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diff --git a/old/55047-0.txt b/old/55047-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 21fe1ad..0000000 --- a/old/55047-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8995 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Gallery of Portraits: with Memoirs. -Volume 1 (of 7), by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Gallery of Portraits: with Memoirs. Volume 1 (of 7) - -Author: Various - -Release Date: July 5, 2017 [EBook #55047] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GALLERY OF PORTRAITS, VOL 1 *** - - - - -Produced by Richard Tonsing, Chris Curnow and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - THE - - GALLERY OF PORTRAITS: - - WITH - - MEMOIRS. - - - VOL. I. - - - - - COMMITTEE. - - - _Chairman_—The Right Hon. the LORD CHANCELLOR. - - _Vice-Chairman_—The Right Hon. LORD JOHN RUSSEL, M.P., Paymaster - General. - - _Treasurer_—WILLIAM TOOKE, Esq., M.P., F.R.S. - - W. Allen, Esq., F.R and R.A.S. - Rt. Hon. Visc. Althorp, M.P. Chancellor of the Exchequer. - Rt. Hon. Lord Auckland, President of the Board of Trade. - W. B. Baring, Esq., M.P. - Capt. F. Beaufort, R.N., F.R. and R.A.S., Hydrographer to the - Admiralty. - Sir C. Bell, F.R.S.L and E. - John Bostock, M.D., F.R.S. - The Rt. Rev. the Bishop of Chichester. - William Coulson, Esq. - R. D. Craig, Esq. - Wm. Crawford, Esq. - J. Frederick Daniell, Esq., F.R.S. - Rt. Hon. Lord Dover, F.R.S., F.S.A. - Lieut. Drummond, R.E., F.R.A.S. - Viscount Ebrington, M.P. - T. F. Ellis, Esq., M.A., F.R.A.S. - John Elliotson, M.D., F.R.S. - Howard Elphinstone, Esq., M.A. - Thomas Falconer, Esq. - I. L. Goldsmid, Esq., F.R. and R.A.S. - B. Gompertz, Esq., F.R. and R.A.S. - G. B. Greenough, Esq., F.R. and L.S. - H. Hallam, Esq., F.R.S., M.A. - M. D. Hill, Esq., M.P. - Rowland Hill, Esq., F.R.A.S. - Edwin Hill, Esq. - Rt. Hon. Sir J. C. Hobhouse, Bart. M.P., Secretary at War. - David Jardine, Esq., M.A. - The Rt. Hon. the Lord Chief Justice of England. - Henry B. Ker, Esq. - Th. Hewitt Key, Esq., M.A. - George C. Lewis, Esq., M.A. - Edward Lloyd, Esq., M.A. - James Loch, Esq., M.P., F.G.S. - George Long, Esq., M.A. - J. W. Lubbock, Esq., F.R., R.A. and L.S.S. - Zachary Macaulay, Esq. - H. Malden, Esq., M.A. - Sir B. H. Malkin, M.A. - A. T. Malkin, Esq., M.A. - James Manning, Esq. - J. Herman Merivale, Esq., F.A.S. - James Mill, Esq. - W. H. Ord, Esq., M.P. - Rt. Hon. Sir H. Parnell, Bt. M.P. - Rt. Hon. T. S. Rice, M.P., F.A.S., Secretary to the Treasury. - Dr. Roget, Sec. R.S., F.R.A.S. - Sir M. A. Shee, P.R.A., F.R.S. - Rev. Richard Sheepshanks, M.A. - J. Smith, Esq., M P. - Wm. Sturch, Esq. - Dr. A. T. Thomson, F.L.S. - N. A. Vigors, Esq., M.P., F.R.S. - John Ward, Esq. - H. Waymouth, Esq. - J. Whishaw, Esq., M.A., F.R.S. - John Wrottesley, Esq., M.A., Sec. R.A.S. - - - LOCAL COMMITTEES. - - _Anglesea_—Rev. E. Williams. - Rev. W. Johnson. - Mr. Miller. - - _Ashburton_—J. F. Kingston, Esq. - - _Bilston_—Rev. W. Leigh. - - _Birmingham_—Reverend J. Corrie, F.R.S. _Chairman_. - Paul Moon James, Esq., _Treasurer_. - Jos. Parkes, Esq. } - W. Redfern, Esq. } _Honorary Secs._ - - _Bonn_—Leonard Horner, Esq., F.R.S.L. & E. - - _Bristol_—J. N. Sanders, Esq., _Chairman_. - J. Reynolds, Esq., _Treasurer_. - J. B. Estlin, Esq., F.L.S., _Secretary_. - - _Bury St. Edmunds_—B. Bevan, Esq. - - _Cambridge_—Rev. James Bowstead, M.A. - Rev. Prof. Henslow, M.A., F.L.S. & G.S. - Rev. Leonard Jenyns, M.A., F.L.S. - Rev. John Lodge, M.A. - Rev. Geo. Peacock, M.A. F.R.S. & G.S. - Rev. Prof. Sedgwick M.A., F.R.S. & G.S. - Professor Smyth, M.A. - Rev. C. Thirlwall, M.A. - B. W. Rothman, Esq., M.A., F.R.A.S. and G.S. - Rev. George Waddington. - - _Canterbury_—Alexander B. Higgins. Esq. - - _Canton_—J. F. Davis, Esq., F.R.S. - - _Carnarvon_—R. A. Poole, Esq. - William Roberts, Esq. - - _Chester_—Hayes Lyon, Esq. - Dr. Cumming. - Dr. Jones. - Henry Potts, Esq. - Dr. Thackery. - Rev. Mr. Thorp. - —— Wardell, Esq. - —— Wedge, Esq. - - _Chichester_—Dr. Forbes, F.R.S., Dr. Sanden, and C. C. Dendy, Esq. - - _Coventry_—Arthur Gregory. - - _Denbigh_—John Maddocks, Esq. - Thomas Evans, Esq. - - _Derby_—Joseph Strutt, Esq. - - _Devonport_—Lt. Col J. Hamilton Smith, F.R. and L.S. - John Coles, Esq. - - _Etruria_—Jos. Wedgwood, Esq. - - _Exeter_—Rev. J. P. Jones. - J. Tyrrell, Esq. - - _Glasgow_—K. Finlay, Esq. - D. Bannatyne, Esq. - Rt. Grahame, Esq. - Professor Mylne. - Alexander McGrigor, Esq. - Mr. T. Atkinson, _Honorary Secretary_. - - _Glamorganshire_—Dr. Malkin, Cowbridge. - Rev. B. R, Paul, Lantwit. - W. Williams, Esq. Aberpergwm. - - _Holywell_—The Rev. J. Blackwall. - - _Keighley, Yorkshire_—Rev. T. Dury, M.A. - - _Launceston_—Rev. J. Barfitt. - - _Leamington Spa_—Dr. Loudon, M.D. - - _Leeds_—J. Marshall, Esq. - Benjamin Gott, Esq. - J. Marshall, Jun., Esq. - - _Lewes_—J. W. Woollgar, Esq. - - _Liverpool Local Association_—Dr. Traill, _Chairman_. - J. Mulleneux, Esq., _Treasurer_. - Rev. W. Sheperd. - J. Ashton Yates, Esq. - - _Ludlow_—T. A. Knight, Esq., P.H.S. - - _Maidenhead_—R. Goolden, Esq., F.L.S. - - _Manchester Local Association_—G. W. Wood, Esq., M.P., _Chairman_. - Benjamin Heywood, Esq., _Treasurer_. - T. W. Winstanley, Esq., _Hon. Sec._ - Sir G. Philips, Bart., M.P. - - _Monmouth_—J. H. Moggridge, Esq. - - _Neath_—John Rowland, Esq. - - _Newcastle_—James Losh, Esq. - Rev. W. Turner. - - _Newport_—Ab. Clarke, Esq. - T. Cooke, Jun., Esq. - R. G. Kirkpatrick, Esq. - - _Newport Pagnell_—J. Millar, Esq. - - _Newton, Montgomeryshire_—W. Pugh, Esq. - - _Norwich_—Rt. Hon. Lord Suffield. - Richard Bacon, Esq. - - _Plymouth_—George Harvey, Esq., F.R.S. - - _Rippon_—Rev. H. P. Hamilton, M.A., F.R.S. and G.S. - Rev. P. Ewart, M.A. - - _Ruthen_—Rev. the Warden of. - Humphreys Jones, Esq. - - _Sheffield_—J. H. Abraham, Esq. - - _Shrewsbury_—R. A. Slaney, Esq., M.P. - - _South Petherton_—John Nicholetts, Esq. - - _St. Asaph_—Rev. George Strong. - - _Stockport_—H. Marsland, Esq., _Treasurer_. - Henry Coppock, Esq., _Secretary_. - - _Tavistock_—Rev. W. Evans. - John Rundle, Esq. - - _Warwick_—Dr. Conolly. - The Rev. William Field, (_Leamington_). - - _Waterford_—Sir John Newport. Bart., M.P. - - _Wolverhampton_—J. Pearson, Esq. - - _Worcester_—Dr. Corbett, M.D. - Dr. Hastings. M.D. - C. H. Hebb, Esq. - - _Wrexham_—Thomas Edgworth, Esq. - J. E. Bowman, Esq., F.L.S., _Treasurer_. - Major William Lloyd. - - _Yarmouth_—C. E. Rumbold, Esq., M.P. - Dawson Turner, Esq. - - _York_—Rev. J. Kenrick, M.A. - John Wood, Esq., M.P. - - THOMAS COATES, _Secretary_, No. 59, Lincoln’s Inn Fields. - - - Printed by WILLIAM CLOWES, Stamford Street. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - UNDER THE SUPERINTENDENCE OF THE SOCIETY FOR THE DIFFUSION OF USEFUL - KNOWLEDGE. - - - - - THE - GALLERY OF PORTRAITS: - WITH - MEMOIRS. - - VOLUME I. - - - LONDON: - - CHARLES KNIGHT, PALL-MALL EAST. - - - 1833. - - - PRICE ONE GUINEA, BOUND IN CLOTH. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - PORTRAITS AND BIOGRAPHIES - CONTAINED IN THIS VOLUME. - - - Page. - 1. Dante 1 - 2. Sir H. Davy 11 - 3. Kosciusko 21 - 4. Flaxman 27 - 5. Copernicus 34 - 6. Milton 43 - 7. Jas. Watt 55 - 8. Turenne 63 - 9. Hon. R. Boyle 72 - 10. Sir I. Newton 79 - 11. Michael Angelo 89 - 12. Moliere 95 - 13. C. J. Fox 103 - 14. Bossuet 113 - 15. Lorenzo de Medici 122 - 16. Geo. Buchanan 129 - 17. Fénélon 137 - 18. Sir C. Wren 144 - 19. Corneille 153 - 20. Halley 161 - 21. Sully 169 - 22. N. Poussin 177 - 23. Harvey 185 - 24. Sir J. Banks 193 - - - - - LONDON: - PRINTED BY W. CLOWES - Stamford Street. - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by C. E. Wagstaff._ - - DANTE ALIGHIERI. - - _From a Print by Raffaelle Morghen, after a Picture by Tofanelli._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - - - - - GALLERY OF PORTRAITS. - - - - -[Illustration] - - DANTE - - -While the more northern nations of modern Europe began to cultivate a -national and peculiar literature in their vernacular tongues, instead of -using Latin as the only vehicle of written thought, it was some time -before the popular language of Italy received that attention which might -have been expected from the prevalence of free institutions, and the -constant intercourse between neighbouring states speaking in similar -dialects. At last the example of other countries prevailed, and a native -poetry sprung up in Italy. If it be allowable to compare the progress of -the national mind to the stages of life, the Italian Muse may be said to -have been born in Sicily with Ciullo d’Alcamo in 1190; to have reached -childhood in Lombardy with Guido Guinicelli, about 1220; and to have -attained youth in Tuscany with Guido Cavalcanti, about 1280. But she -suddenly started into perfect maturity when Dante appeared, surpassing -all his predecessors in lyrical composition, and astounding the world -with that mighty monument of Christian poetry, which after five -centuries of progressive civilization still stands sublime as one of the -most magnificent productions of genius. - -Dante Alighieri, the true founder of Italian literature, was born at -Florence A.D. 1265, of a family of some note. The name of Dante, by -which he is generally known, often mistaken for that of his family, is a -mere contraction of his Christian name Durante. Yet an infant when his -father died, that heavy loss was lightened by the judicious solicitude -with which his mother superintended his education. She intrusted him to -the care of Brunetto Latini, a man of great repute as a poet as well as -a philosopher; and he soon made so rapid a progress, both in science and -literature, as might justify the most sanguine hopes of his future -eminence. - -Early as he developed the extraordinary powers of his understanding, he -was not less precocious in evincing that susceptibility to deep and -tender impressions, to which he afterwards owed his sublimest -inspirations. But his passion was of a very mysterious character. It -arose in his boyhood, for a girl “still in her infancy,” and it never -ceased, or lost its intensity, though she died in the flower of her age, -and he survived her more than thirty years. Whether he was enamoured of -a human being, or of a creature of his own imagination,—one of those -phantoms of heavenly beauty and virtue so common to the dreams and -reveries of youth,—it is extremely difficult to ascertain. Some of his -biographers are of opinion that the lady whom he has celebrated in his -works under the name of Bice, or Beatrice, was the daughter of Folco -Portinari, a noble Florentine; while others contend that she is merely a -personification of wisdom or moral philosophy. But Dante’s own account -of his love is given in terms often so enigmatical and apparently -contradictory, that it is almost impossible to make them agree perfectly -with either of these suppositions. - -Whatever its object, his affection seems to have been most chaste and -spiritual in its nature. Instead of alienating him from literary -pursuits, it increased his thirst after knowledge, and ennobled and -purified his feelings. With the aid of this powerful incentive, he soon -distinguished himself above the youth of his native city, not only by -his acquirements, but also by elegance of manners, and amenity of -temper. Thus occupied by his studies, refined and exalted by his love, -and cherished by his countrymen, the morning of his life was sunned by -the unclouded smiles of fortune, as if to render darker by the contrast -the long and gloomy evening which awaited him. - -His pilgrimage on earth was cast in one of the most stormy periods -recorded in history. The Church and the Empire had been long engaged in -a scandalous contest, and had often involved a great part of Europe in -their quarrels. Italy was especially distracted by two contending -parties, the Guelfs, who adhered to the Pope, and the Ghibelines, who -espoused the cause of the Emperor. In the year 1266, after a long -alternation of ruinous reverses and ferocious triumphs, the Guelfs of -Florence drove the Ghibelines out of their city, and at last permanently -established themselves in power. The family of Dante belonged to the -victorious party; and while he remained in Florence, it would have been -dangerous, perhaps impossible, to avoid mingling in these civil broils. -He accordingly went out against the Ghibelines of Arezzo in 1289; and in -the following year against those of Pisa. In the former campaign he took -part in the battle of Campaldino, in which, after a long and doubtful -conflict, the Aretines were completely defeated. On that memorable day -he fought valiantly in the front line of the Guelf cavalry, manifesting -the same energy in warfare, which he had displayed in his studies and in -his love. - -But soon after the tumults of the camp had interfered with the calm of -his private and meditative life, his adored Beatrice, whether an earthly -mistress, or an abstraction of his moral and literary studies, was torn -from him. This loss, which in his writings he never ceases to lament, -reduced him to extreme despondency. Nevertheless in 1291, but a few -months after it, he married a lady of the noble family of the Donati, by -whom he had numerous offspring; a circumstance which would indicate a -strange inconsistency of character, had his heart been really -preoccupied by another love. This connexion with one of the first -families of the republic may have smoothed his way to civic eminence; -but if Boccaccio, usually a slanderer of the fair sex, be credited, the -lady’s temper proved unfavourable to domestic comfort. - -He now entirely devoted himself to the business of government, and -attained such reputation as a statesman, that hardly any transaction of -importance took place without his advice. It has even been asserted that -he was employed in no less than fourteen embassies to foreign courts. -There may be some exaggeration in this statement; but it is certain that -in 1300, at the early age of five and thirty, he was elected one of the -Priors, or chief magistrates of the republic; a mark of popular favour -which ended in his total ruin. - -About this time, the Guelfs of Florence split into two new divisions -called Bianchi and Neri (whites and blacks), from the denominations of -two factions which had originated at Pistoja, in consequence of a -dispute between two branches of the Cancellieri family. The Bianchi were -chiefly citizens recently risen to importance, who, having received no -personal injury from the Ghibelines, were disposed to treat them with -moderation; while the Neri consisted almost entirely of ancient nobles, -who, having formerly been the leaders of the Guelfs, still retained a -furious animosity against the Ghibelines. All endeavours to bring them -to a reconciliation proved useless: they soon passed from rancour to -contumely, and from contumely to open violence. The city was now in the -utmost confusion, and was very near being turned into a scene of war and -carnage, when the Priors, hardly knowing what course to pursue, invoked -the advice of Dante. His situation was most perplexing and critical. The -relations of his wife were at the head of the Neri; while Guido -Cavalcante, his dearest friend on earth, was one of the foremost leaders -of the Bianchi. Nevertheless, silencing all the claims of private -affection for the good of his country, he proposed to banish the -principal agitators of both parties. By the adoption of this measure, -public tranquillity was for a time restored. But Pope Boniface VIII. -could not suffer independent citizens to govern the republic. He sent -Charles de Valois to Florence under colour of pacifying the contending -parties, but in truth to re-establish in power the men most blindly -devoted to his own interests. The French prince, after having made the -most solemn promises to the Florentine government, that he would act -with rigorous impartiality and adopt only conciliatory measures, -obtained admission into the city, at the beginning of November, 1301. -Making no account of the engagements he had entered into, he now -permitted the Neri to perpetrate the most atrocious outrages on the -families of their opponents, and to close this scene of horror by -pronouncing sentence of exile and confiscation upon six hundred of the -most illustrious citizens. Dante was among the victims. He had made -himself obnoxious, both to the Neri, whom he had caused to be banished, -and to Charles de Valois, whose intrusion in the internal affairs of the -commonwealth he had firmly opposed in council. Accordingly, his house -was pillaged and razed, his property confiscated, and his life saved -only by his absence at Rome, whither he had been sent for the purpose of -propitiating the Pope. Highly disgusted at the treacherous conduct of -Boniface, who had been deluding him all the while with vain hopes and -honeyed words, he suddenly left Rome, and hastened to Siena. On his -arrival he heard that he had been charged with embezzling the public -money, and condemned to be burned, if he should fall into the hands of -his enemies. His indignation now reached its height; and in despair of -ever being restored to his native city except by arms, he repaired to -Arezzo, and united his exertions to those of the other Bianchi, who, -making common cause with the Ghibelines, formed themselves into an army -with the object of entering Florence by force. But their hopes were -disappointed; and after four years of abortive attempts they dispersed, -each in pursuit of his own fortune. - -The noble, opulent citizen, the statesman and minister, the profound -philosopher, accustomed in all and each of these characters to the -respectful homage of his countrymen, was now, to use his own words, -“driven about by the cold wind that springs out of sad poverty,” and -compelled “to taste how bitter is another’s bread, how hard it is to -mount and to descend another’s stairs.” But the change from affluence to -want was not the worst evil that awaited the high-minded patriot in -banishment. For this he found compensation in the consciousness of -having done his duty to his country. But he suffered much more from -being mixed, and sometimes even confounded, with other exiles, whose -perverse actions tended to disgrace the cause for which he had -sacrificed all his private affections and interests. His misery was -carried to the utmost by a continual struggle between his nice sense of -honour and the pressure of want; by an excessive fear that his -intentions might be misunderstood, and a constant readiness to mistake -those of others. This morbid feeling he has pathetically expressed in -several passages, which can scarce be read without profound emotion. - -In this mental torture he wandered throughout Italy, from town to town, -and from the palace of one of his benefactors to that of another, -without ever finding a resting place for his wounded spirit. He stooped -in vain to address letters of supplication to the Florentines; the -rancour of his enemies was not to be softened by prayers. Meanwhile the -hopes of the Ghibelines were again raised, when Henry VII., who had been -elected Emperor in 1308, entered Italy to regain the rights of -sovereignty which his predecessors had lost. Elated by the better -prospects which appeared to open, Dante became a strenuous advocate of -the imperial cause. He composed a treatise on monarchy, in which he -asserted the rights of the empire against the encroachments of the Court -of Rome: he wrote a circular both to the Kings and Princes of Italy, and -to the Senators of Rome, admonishing them to give an honourable -reception to their Sovereign; and he sent a hortatory epistle to the -Emperor himself, urging him to turn his arms against Florence, and to -visit that refractory city with severe punishment. Henry did accordingly -lay siege to Florence in September, 1312, but without success; and the -hopes of the Ghibelines were finally extinguished in the following -August, by his death, under strong suspicion of poison. Thus Dante, in -consequence of his recent conduct, saw himself farther than ever from -restoration to his beloved Florence. The unfortunate exile, now reduced -to despair, resumed his wanderings, often returning to Verona, where the -Scaligeri family always received him at their court with peculiar -kindness. It has been asserted that his thirst for knowledge led him to -Paris and Oxford. His journey to England is still involved in doubt; but -it appears certain, that he visited Paris, where he is said to have -acquired great fame, by holding public disputations on several questions -of theology. - -On his return to Italy, he at length found a permanent refuge at -Ravenna, at the court of Guido da Polenta, the father of that ill-fated -Francesca da Rimini, for whom the celebrated episode of Dante has -engaged the sympathy of succeeding ages. The reception which he -experienced from this Prince, who was a patron of learning and a poet, -was marked by the reverence due to his character, no less than by the -kindness excited by his misfortunes. In order to employ his diplomatic -talents, and give him the pleasing consciousness of being useful to his -host, Guido sent him as ambassador, to negotiate a peace with Venice. -Dante, happy at having an opportunity of evincing his gratitude to his -benefactor, proceeded on his mission with sanguine expectation of -success. But being unable to obtain a public audience from the -Venetians, he returned to Ravenna, so overwhelmed with fatigue and -mortification, that he died shortly afterwards, in the fifty-seventh -year of his age, A. D. 1321, receiving splendid obsequies from his -disconsolate patron, who himself assumed the office of pronouncing a -funeral oration on the dead body. - -The portrait of Dante has been handed down to posterity, both by history -and the arts. He is represented as a man of middle stature, with a -pensive and melancholy expression of countenance. His face was long, his -nose aquiline, his eyes rather prominent, but full of fire, his cheek -bones large, and his under lip projecting beyond the upper one; his -complexion was dark, his hair and beard thick and curled. These features -were so marked, that all his likenesses, whether on medals, or marble, -or canvas, bear a striking resemblance to each other. Boccaccio -describes him as grave and sedate in his manners, courteous and civil in -his address, and extremely temperate in his way of living; whilst -Villani asserts, that he was harsh, reserved, and disdainful in his -deportment. But the latter writer must have painted Dante such as he was -in his exile, when the bitter cup of sorrow had changed the gravity of -his temper into austerity. He spoke seldom, but displayed a remarkable -subtleness in his answers. The consciousness of worth had inspired him -with a noble pride which spurned vice in all its aspects, and disdained -condescending to any thing like flattery or dissimulation. Earnest in -study, and attached to solitude, he was at times liable to fits of -absence. The testimony of his contemporaries, and the still better -evidence of his own works, prove that his hours of seclusion were -heedfully employed. He was intimately conversant with several languages; -extensively read in classical literature, and deeply versed in the -staple learning of the age, scholastic theology, and the Aristotelian -philosophy. He had acquired a considerable knowledge of geography, -astronomy, and mathematics; had made himself thoroughly acquainted with -mythology and history, both sacred and profane; nor had he neglected to -adorn his mind with the more elegant accomplishments of the fine arts. - -The mass of Dante’s writings, considering the unfavourable circumstances -under which he laboured, is almost as wonderful as the extent of his -attainments. The treatise ‘De Monarchia,’ which he composed on the -arrival of Henry VII. in Italy, is one of the most ingenious productions -that ever appeared, in refutation of the temporal pretensions of the -Court of Rome. It was hailed with triumphant joy by the Ghibelines, and -loaded with vituperation by the Guelfs. The succeeding emperor, Lewis of -Bavaria, laid great stress on its arguments as supporting his claims -against John XXII.; and on that account, the Pope had it burnt publicly -by the Cardinal du Pujet, his legate in Lombardy, who would even have -disinterred and burnt Dante’s body, and scattered his ashes to the wind, -if some influential citizens had not interposed. Another Latin work, ‘De -Vulgari Eloquentia,’ treats of the origin, history, and use of the -genuine Italian tongue. It is full of interesting and curious research, -and is still classed among the most judicious and philosophical works -that Italy possesses on the subject. He meant to have comprised it in -four books, but unfortunately only lived to complete two. - -Of his Italian productions, the earliest was, perhaps, the ‘Vita Nuova,’ -a mixture of mysterious poetry and prose, in which he gives a detailed -account of his love for Beatrice. It is pervaded by a spirit of soft -melancholy extremely touching; and it contains several passages having -all the distinctness and individuality of truth; but, on the other hand, -it is interspersed with visions and dreams, and metaphysical conceits, -from which it receives all the appearance of an allegorical invention. -He also composed about thirty sonnets, and nearly as many ‘Canzoni,’ or -songs, both on love and morality. The sonnets, though not destitute of -grace and ingenuity, are not distinguished by any particular excellence. -The songs display a vigour of style, a sublimity of thought, a depth of -feeling, and a richness of imagery not known before: they betoken the -poet and the philosopher. On fourteen of these, he attempted in his old -age to write a minute commentary, to which he gave the title of -‘Convito,’ or Banquet, as being intended “to administer the food of -wisdom to the ignorant;” but he could only extend it to three. Thus he -produced the first specimen of severe Italian prose; and if he indulged -rather too much in fanciful allegories and scholastic subtleties, these -blemishes are amply counterbalanced by a store of erudition, an -elevation of sentiment, and a matchless eloquence, which it is difficult -not to admire. - -These works, omitting several others of inferior value, would have been -more than sufficient to place Dante above all his contemporaries; yet, -they stand at an immeasurable distance from the ‘Divina Commedia,’ the -great poem by which he has recommended his name to the veneration of the -remotest posterity. The Divine Comedy is the narrative of a mysterious -journey through hell, purgatory, and paradise, which he supposes himself -to have performed in the year 1300, during the passion week, having -Virgil as his guide through the two regions of woe, and Beatrice through -that of happiness. No creation of the human mind ever excelled this -mighty vision in originality and vastness of design; nor did any one -ever choose a more appropriate subject for the expression of all his -thoughts and feelings. The mechanical construction of his spiritual -world allowed him room for developing his geographical and astronomical -knowledge: the punishments and rewards allotted to the characters -introduced, gave him an excellent opportunity for a display of his -theological and philosophical learning: the continual succession of -innumerable spirits of different ages, nations, and conditions, enabled -him to expatiate in the fields of ancient and modern history, and to -expose thoroughly the degradation of Italian society in his own times; -while the whole afforded him ample scope for a full exertion of his -poetical endowments, and for the illustration of the moral lesson, -which, whatever his real meaning may have been, is ostensibly the object -of his poem. Neither were his powers of execution inferior to those of -conception. Rising from the deepest abyss of torture and despair, -through every degree of suffering and hope, up to the sublimest -beatitude, he imparts the most vivid and intense dramatic interest to a -wonderful variety of scenes which he brings before the reader. Awful, -vehement, and terrific in hell, in proportion as he advances through -purgatory and paradise, he contrives to modify his style in such a -manner as to become more pleasing in his images, more easy in his -expressions, more delicate in his sentiments, and more regular in his -versification. His characters live and move; the objects which he -depicts are clear and palpable; his similes are generally new and just; -his reflections evince throughout the highest tone of morality; his -energetic language makes a deep and vigorous impression both on the -reason and the imagination; and the graphic force with which, by a few -bold strokes, he throws before the eye of his reader a perfect and -living picture, is wholly unequalled. - -It is true, however, that his constant solicitude for conciseness and -effect led him, sometimes, into a harsh and barbarous phraseology, and -into the most unrestrained innovations; but considering the rudeness of -his age, and the unformed state of his language, he seems hardly open to -the censure of a candid critic on this account. On the other hand, it is -impossible not to wonder how, in spite of such obstacles, he could so -happily express all the wild conceptions of his fancy, the most abstract -theories of philosophy, and the most profound mysteries of religion. The -occasional obscurity and coldness of the Divine Comedy proceeds much -less from defects of style, than from didactic disquisitions and -historical allusions which become every day less intelligible and less -interesting. To be understood and appreciated as a whole, and in its -parts, it requires a store of antiquated knowledge which is now of -little use. Even at the period of its publication, when its geography -and astronomy were not yet exploded, its philosophy and theology still -current, and many of its incidents and personages still fresh in the -memory of thousands, it was considered rather as a treasure of moral -wisdom, than as a book of amusement. The city of Florence, and several -other towns of Italy, soon established professorships for the express -purpose of explaining it to the public. Two sons of Dante wrote -commentaries for its illustration: Boccaccio, Benvenuto da Imola, and -many others followed the example in rapid succession; and even a few -years since Foscolo and Rossetti excited fresh curiosity and interest by -the novelty of their views. Notwithstanding the learning and ingenuity -of all its expositors, the hidden meaning of the ‘Divina Commedia’ is -not yet perfectly made out, though Rossetti, in his ‘Spirito -Antipapale,’ lately published, seems to have shown, that under the -exterior of moral precepts, it contains a most bitter satire against the -court of Rome. But whether time shall remove these obscurities, or -thicken the mist which hangs around this extraordinary production, it -will be ever memorable as the mighty work which gave being and form to -the beautiful language of Italy, impressed a new character on the poetry -of modern Europe, and inspired the genius of Michael Angelo and of -Milton. - -There is no life of Dante which can be recommended as decidedly superior -to the rest. The earliest is that of Boccaccio; but it evidently cannot -be relied on for the facts of his life. There are others by Lionardo, -Aretino, Fabroni, Pelli, Tiraboschi, &c. The English reader will find a -fuller account prefixed to Mr. Carey’s translation of the ‘Divina -Commedia,’ and in Mr. Stebbing’s Lives of the Italian Poets. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by E. Scriven._ - - SIR HUMPHREY DAVY. - - _From the original Picture by_ - Sir Thomas Lawrence - _in the possession of the Royal Society_. - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - DAVY - - -Where the length of the memoir necessarily bears a small proportion to -the quantity of matter which presses on the biographer’s attention, two -courses lie open to his choice; either to select a few remarkable -passages in his subject’s life for full discussion, or to give a general -and popular sketch of his personal history. The latter plan seems here -the more advisable. To many readers a minute analysis of Davy’s physical -researches would be unintelligible, without full explanations of the -very instruments and objects with, and upon which, he worked. We shall -therefore make it our chief object to trace his private history, -interspersing notices of his labours and discoveries, but leaving to -publications of expressly scientific character the task of doing justice -to his scientific fame. Both departments have been fully treated in the -Life published by Dr. Paris. - -Humphry Davy was born near Penzance in Cornwall, December 17, 1778, of a -family in independent, though humble circumstances, which for a century -and a half had possessed and resided upon a small estate situated in -Mount’s Bay. Though no prodigy of precocious intellect, his childhood -gave reasonable promise of future talent; and especially manifested the -dawning of a vivid imagination, united with a strong turn for -experiments in natural philosophy. One of his favourite amusements was -to exhibit to his playfellows the operation of melting in a candle -scraps of tin; or to make and explode detonating balls. Another was the -inventing and repeating to them fairy tales and romances. At times, -however, he would exercise his eloquence upon graver subjects; and, when -no better could be obtained, the future lecturer is said to have found a -staid, if not attentive, audience in a circle of chairs. At an early age -he was placed at school at Penzance, where, in the usual acceptation of -the words, he profited little: his own opinion, however, was different. -“I consider it fortunate,” he wrote to a member of his family, “that I -was left much to myself as a child, and put upon no particular plan of -study, and that I enjoyed much idleness at Mr. Coryton’s school. I -perhaps owe to these circumstances the little talents that I have, and -their peculiar application: what I am, I have made myself. I say this -without vanity, and in pure simplicity of heart.” He was soon removed to -the school at Truro, where he remained two years, undistinguished except -by a love of poetry, which manifested itself in composition at an early -age. This, indeed, continued to be a favourite amusement, until, in -mature life, he became absorbed in scientific pursuits: and it has been -said upon high authority, that if Davy had not been the first chemist, -he would have been the first poet of his age. This opinion must look for -support, not to his metrical productions, which in truth nowise justify -it, but to the vivid imagination and high powers of eloquence, which, in -the vigour and freshness of youth, delighted the fashionable, as much as -his discoveries amazed the scientific world. - -In 1794 his father died, and his mother in consequence removed from -Varfell, the patrimonial estate, to Penzance, where Davy was apprenticed -to Mr. Borlase, a surgeon in that town. For the medical part of his new -profession he showed distaste; but his attention was at once turned to -the study of chemistry, which he pursued thenceforward with undeviating -zeal. Akin to this pursuit, and fostered by the natural features of his -native country, was his early taste for geology. “How often,” said Davy -to his friend and biographer on being shown a drawing of Botallack -mine,—“how often when a boy have I wandered about these rocks in search -of new minerals, and when fatigued, sat down upon the turf, and -exercised my fancy in anticipations of scientific renown.” The notoriety -which, in a small town, he readily acquired as the boy who was “so fond -of chemical experiments,” introduced him to a valuable friend, Mr. -Davies Gilbert, in early life his patron, in mature age his successor in -the chair of the Royal Society. By him the young man was introduced to -Dr. Beddoes, who was at that time seeking an assistant in conducting the -Pneumatic Institution, then newly established at Bristol, for the -purpose of investigating the properties of aeriform fluids, and the -possibility of using them as medical agents. It was not intended that, -in forming this engagement, Davy should give up the line of life marked -out for him; on the contrary, his abode at Bristol was considered part -of his professional education. But his genius led him another way, and -this lucky engagement opened a career of usefulness and fame, which -under other circumstances might have been long delayed. The arrangement -was concluded upon liberal terms, and in October, 1798, before he was -twenty years old, he left his home in high spirits to enter upon -independent life. It is to his honour, that as soon as a competent, -though temporary provision was thus secured, he resigned, in favour of -his mother and sisters, all his claims upon the paternal estate. - -Soon after removing to Bristol, he published, in a work entitled -‘Contributions to Medical and Physical Knowledge,’ edited by Dr. -Beddoes, some essays on heat, light, and respiration. Of these it will -be sufficient to say, that with much promise of future excellence, they -show a most unbridled imagination, and contain many speculations so -unfounded and absurd, that in after-life he bitterly regretted their -publication. During his engagement, his zeal and intrepidity were -signally displayed in attempts to breathe different gases, supposed, or -known, to be highly destructive to life, with a view to ascertain the -nature of their effects. Two of these experiments, the inhaling of -nitrous gas and carburetted hydrogen are remarkable, because in each he -narrowly escaped death. But his attention was especially turned to the -gas called nitrous oxide, which, upon respiration, appeared to transport -the breather into a new and highly pleasurable state of feeling, to -rouse the imagination, and give new vigour to the most sublime emotions -of the soul. The effects produced, exaggerated by the enthusiasm of the -patients, were in fact closely analogous to intoxication; and many -persons still remember the curiosity and amusement, excited by the -freaks of poets and grave philosophers, while under the operation of -this novel stimulus. In 1800 he published ‘Researches Chemical and -Philosophical, respecting Nitrous Oxide and its Respiration.’ The -novelty of the results announced, combined with the ability shown in -their investigation, and the youth of the author, produced a great -sensation in philosophical circles; and through the celebrity thus -acquired, and the favourable opinion of him formed upon personal -acquaintance by several eminent philosophers of the day, he was offered -by the conductors of the Royal Institution, the office of Assistant -Lecturer in Chemistry, with the understanding that ere long he should be -made sole Professor. This negotiation took place in the spring of 1801, -and on May 31, 1802, he was raised to the higher appointment. - -To Davy, the quitting Bristol for London was the epoch of a -transformation—an elevation from the chrysalis to the butterfly state. -In youth his person, voice, and address were alike uncouth; and at first -sight they produced so unfavourable an impression upon Count Rumford, -that he expressed much regret at having sanctioned so unpromising an -engagement. The veteran philosopher soon found reason to change his -opinion. Davy’s first course of lectures, which was not delivered till -the spring of 1802, excited a sensation unequalled before or since. Not -only the philosophical but the literary and fashionable world crowded to -hear him; and his vivid imagination, fired by enthusiastic love for the -science which he professed, gave, to one of the most abstruse of -studies, a charm confessed by persons the least likely to feel its -influence. The strongest possible testimony to his richness of -illustration is supplied by Mr. Coleridge:—“I go,” he said, “to Davy’s -lectures to increase my stock of metaphors.” Had this been all, the -young prodigy would soon have ceased to dazzle; but his fame was -maintained and increased by the success which waited on his -undertakings; and, in a word, Davy became the lion of the day. The -effect of this sudden change was by no means good. Sought and caressed -by the highest circles of the metropolis, he endeavoured to assume the -deportment of a man of fashion; but the strange dress sat awkwardly, and -ill replaced a natural candour and warmth of feeling, which had -singularly won upon the acquaintance of his early life. It is but -justice, however, to add that his regard for his family and early -friends was not cooled by this alteration in his society and prospects. - -Our limits are too narrow to admit even a sketch of the various trains -of original investigation pursued by Davy, during his connection with -the Institution. Of these, the most important is that series of -electrical inquiries pursued from 1800 to 1806, the results of which -were developed in his celebrated first Bakerian Lecture, delivered in -the autumn of the latter year, before the Royal Society, which received -from the French Institute the prize of 3000 francs, established by the -First Consul, for the best experiment in electricity or galvanism. In it -he investigated the nature of electric action, and disclosed a new class -of phenomena illustrative of the power of the Voltaic battery in -decomposing bodies; which, in the following year, led to the most -striking of his discoveries, the resolution of the fixed alkalies, -potash and soda, into metallic bases. This discovery took place in -October, 1807, and was published in his second Bakerian Lecture, -delivered in the following November. The novelty and brilliancy of the -view thus opened, raised public curiosity to the highest pitch: the -laboratory of the Institution was crowded with visitors, and the high -excitement thus produced, acting upon a frame exhausted by fatigue, -produced a violent fever, in which for many days, he lay between life -and death. Not until the following March was he able to resume his -duties as a lecturer. - -During the next four years he was chiefly employed in endeavouring to -decompose other bodies, in prosecuting his inquiries into the nature of -the alkalies and in obtaining similar metallic bases from the earths, in -which he partially succeeded. The resolution of nitrogen was attempted -without success. In tracing the nature of muriatic and oxymuriatic acid, -he was more fortunate; and proved the latter to be an undecompounded -substance, in direct opposition to his own opinion, recorded at an -earlier period. This discovery is the more honourable, for nothing -renders the admission of truth so difficult, as having advocated error. - -On the 8th April, 1812, he received the honour of knighthood from the -Prince Regent, in testimony of his scientific merits. This was the more -welcome, because he was on the eve of exchanging a life of professional -labour for one, not of idleness, for he pursued his course of discovery -with unabated zeal, but of affluence and independence. On the 11th of -the same month, he married Mrs. Apreece, a lady possessed of ample -fortune; previous to which he delivered his farewell lecture to the -Royal Institution. At the same time he appears to have resigned the -office of Secretary to the Royal Society, to which he had been appointed -in 1807. Two months afterwards he published ‘Elements of Chemical -Philosophy,’ which he dedicated to Lady Davy, “as a pledge that he -should continue to pursue science with unabated ardour.” In March, 1813, -appeared the ‘Elements of Agricultural Chemistry,’ containing the -substance of a course of lectures delivered for ten successive seasons -before the Board of Agriculture. - -That part of the Continent which was under French influence, being -strictly closed against the English at this time, it is much to the -credit of Napoleon, that he immediately assented to a wish expressed by -Davy, and seconded by the Imperial Institute, that he might be allowed -to visit the extinct volcanoes in Auvergne, and thence proceed to make -observations on Vesuvius while in a state of action. He reached Paris, -Oct. 27th, 1813. The French philosophers received him with enthusiasm: -it is to be regretted that at the time of his departure their feelings -were much less cordial. There was a coldness, and pride, or what seemed -pride, in his manner, which disgusted a body of men too justly sensible -of their own merit to brook slights; especially when, in spite of -national jealousy, they had done most cordial and unhesitating justice -to the transcendent achievements of the British philosopher. Nor was -this the only ground for dissatisfaction. Iodine had been recently -discovered in Paris, but its nature was still unknown. Davy obtained a -portion, and proceeded to experiment upon it. This was thought by many -an unfair interference with the fame and rights of the original -investigators. Davy himself felt that some explanation at least was due, -in a paper which he transmitted to the Royal Society; and as the passage -in question contained what, though perhaps not meant to be such, might -easily be construed into an insinuation, that but for him, the results -communicated in that paper might not have been obtained, it was not -likely to conciliate. There is probably much truth in the excuse offered -by his biographer, for the superciliousness charged against him upon -this, and other occasions, that it was merely the cloak of a perpetual -and painful timidity. - -It is remarkable that, with a highly poetical temperament, he seems to -have been senseless to the beauties of art. The wonders of the Louvre -extracted no sign of pleasure: he paced the rooms with hurried steps, in -apathy, roused only by the sight of an Antinous sculptured in alabaster, -“Gracious Heaven!” he then exclaimed, “what a beautiful stalactite.” - -From Paris, Dec. 29th, he proceeded without visiting Auvergne, to -Montpellier, Genoa, Florence, Rome, and Naples, which he reached May -8th, 1814. At various places he prosecuted his researches upon iodine; -and at Florence, he availed himself of the great burning lens to -experiment upon the combustion of the diamond, and other forms of -carbon. At Naples and Rome he instituted a minute and laborious inquiry -into the colours used in painting by the ancients; the results of which -appeared in the Philosophical Transactions for 1815. - -The autumn of 1815 is rendered memorable by the discovery of the -safety-lamp, one of the most beneficial applications of science to -economical purposes yet made, by which hundreds, perhaps thousands, of -lives have been preserved. Davy was led to the consideration of this -subject by an application from Dr. Gray, now Bishop of Bristol, the -Chairman of a Society established in 1813, at Bishop-Wearmouth, to -consider and promote the means of preventing accidents by fire in -coal-pits. Being then in Scotland, he visited the mines on his return -southward, and was supplied with specimens of fire-damp, which, on -reaching London, he proceeded to examine. He soon discovered that the -carburetted hydrogen gas, called fire-damp by the miners, would not -explode when mixed with less than six, or more than fourteen times its -volume of air; and further, that the explosive mixture could not be -fired in tubes of small diameters and proportionate lengths. Gradually -diminishing their dimensions, he arrived at the conclusion that a tissue -of wire, in which the meshes do not exceed a certain small diameter, -which may be considered as the ultimate limit of a series of such tubes, -is impervious to the inflamed air; and that a lamp covered with such -tissue, may be used with perfect safety even in an explosive mixture, -which takes fire, and burns within the cage, securely cut off from the -power of doing harm. Thus when the atmosphere is so impure that the -flame of the lamp itself cannot be maintained, the _Davy_ still supplies -light to the miner, and turns his worst enemy into an obedient servant. -This invention, the certain source of large profit, he presented with -characteristic liberality to the public. The words are preserved, in -which when pressed to secure to himself the benefit of it by a patent, -he declined to do so, in conformity with the high-minded resolution -which he formed upon acquiring independent wealth, of never making his -scientific eminence subservient to gain:—“I have enough for all my views -and purposes, more wealth might be troublesome, and distract my -attention from those pursuits in which I delight. More wealth could not -increase my fame or happiness. It might undoubtedly enable me to put -four horses to my carriage, but what would it avail me to have it said, -that Sir Humphry drives his carriage and four?” He who used wealth and -distinction to such good purpose, may be forgiven the weakness if he -estimated them at too high a value. - -The coal-owners of the north presented to him a service of plate, in -testimony of their gratitude. He underwent, however, considerable -vexation from claims to priority of invention, set up by some persons -connected with the collieries, whose attention had been turned with very -imperfect success to the same end. The controversy has long been settled -in his favour, by the decision of the most eminent names in British -science, and the general voice of the owners of the Newcastle -coal-field: and while the pits are worked, the name of Davy, given by -the colliers to the safety-lamp, cannot be forgotten. - -In 1818 he again visited Naples, with a view of applying the resources -of chemistry to facilitate the unrolling of the papyri found in -Herculaneum. These, it is well known, are generally in a state -resembling charcoal, often cemented into a solid mass, and the texture -so entirely destroyed, that it is hardly possible to separate the -layers. Examination of some specimens transmitted to England satisfied -him that they had not been subjected to heat, and that instead of being -a true charcoal, they were analogous to peat or to the lignite called -Bovey coal. He concluded, therefore, that the rolls were cemented into -one mass by a substance produced by fermentation in their vegetable -substance, and hoped to be able so far to destroy this, as to facilitate -the detaching one layer from another, without obliterating the writing. -With this view he submitted fragments to the operation of chlorine and -iodine, with such fair hope of success, that he was encouraged to -proceed to Naples; the Government furnishing him with every -recommendation, and defraying the expenses of such assistants as he -thought it necessary to take out. His success, however, fell short of -his hopes; and partly from disappointment, partly from a belief that -unfair obstacles were thrown in his way by interested persons, he -abandoned the undertaking at the end of two months, having partially -unrolled twenty-three MSS. and examined about one hundred and twenty, -which offered no prospect of success. His visit to Naples led, however, -to one conclusion of interest to geologists, that the strata which cover -Herculaneum are not lava, but a tufa consolidated by moisture, and -resembling that at Pompeii except in its hardness. - -In October, 1818, Sir Humphry Davy was created a baronet, as a reward -for his scientific services. Soon after his return to England in 1820, -died Sir Joseph Banks, the venerable President of the Royal Society. -Davy succeeded to the chair, which he retained till forced to quit it by -ill health, zealous in fulfilling its duties, without relaxing in his -private labours. It would have been better had he not obtained this -honour. His scientific pride disgusted some; his aristocratic airs, -unpardonable in one so humbly born, excited the ridicule of others. Much -of this weakness may be traced to the pernicious effects of early -flattery. Had he been content with chemical fame, he would have spared -some mortifications and heart-burnings both to himself and others. His -demeanour changed, immediately after the delivery of his first lecture. -On the following day he dined with his early friend and patron, Sir -Henry Englefield, who, speaking of his behaviour on that day after -eighteen years had elapsed, said, “It was the last effort of expiring -nature.” Such frailties, though just grounds of censure and regret to -his contemporaries, will be lost in the splendour of his discoveries. -Yet is the observation of them not useless as a warning to others: for -the higher the station, the more closely will the actions of him who -fills it be scrutinised, especially if his elevation be the work of his -own hands. - -In 1823 he undertook, in consequence of an application from Government -to the Royal Society, an inquiry into the possibility of preventing the -rapid decay of the copper sheathing of ships. His former Voltaic -discoveries at once explained the cause and suggested a remedy. When two -metals in contact with each other are exposed to moisture, the more -oxidable rapidly decays, while on the less oxidable no effect is -produced. Thus a very small piece of iron or zinc was found effectually -to stop the solution of a very large surface of copper. Several ships -were accordingly fitted with _protectors_, as they were called, which -succeeded perfectly in preserving the copper; but their use was found to -be attended by an evil greater than that which they remedied. The ships’ -bottoms grew foul with unexampled rapidity; and the protectors were -finally abandoned by the Admiralty in 1828. This failure was a source of -much ill-natured remark to the many whom Davy had offended, or who were -jealous of his reputation, and of deep mortification to himself. Indeed -he displayed an impatience of censure, and irritability of temper, far -from dignified: the spoilt child of fortune, he could not bear the -feeling of defeat, still less the triumph of his enemies. This weakness -may perhaps be partly ascribed to declining health, which must always -more or less overcloud the mind, especially of one whose amusements as -well as his employments were of an active and stirring kind. To the -sports of fly-fishing and shooting he was devotedly attached; and -jealous, even to a ludicrous degree, of his reputation and success, -which it is said not always to have been so great as he would willingly -have had it believed. But his failing health gradually curtailed his -enjoyment of these pleasures, and towards the end of 1825, the -indisposition which his friends had long seen stealing on him reached -its crisis in the form of an apoplectic attack. All immediate cause of -alarm was soon removed; but the traces of his illness remained in a -slight degree of paralysis, which impaired, though without materially -affecting, his muscular powers. By the advice of his physicians he -hastened abroad, and passed the rest of the winter, and the spring, at -Ravenna. In the summer he visited the Tyrol and Illyria, and finding his -health still precarious, resigned the chair of the Royal Society. In the -autumn he returned to England, having gained little strength. The early -winter he spent in Somersetshire, at the house of an old and valued -friend, too weak for severe mental exertion, or to pursue successfully -his favourite sports. Yet the ruling passion was still shown in the -amusement of his sick hours, which were chiefly devoted to the -preparation of ‘Salmonia.’ Of the merits of this book as a manual for -the fly-fisher, we presume not to speak. To the general reader it may be -safely recommended, as containing many eloquent and poetical passages, -with much amusing information respecting the varieties and habits of the -trout and salmon species, and of the insect tribes on which they feed. - -In the spring of 1828, Davy once more sought the Continent in search of -health. His steps were turned to that favourite district, of which he -speaks as the “most glorious country in Europe, Illyria and Styria;” -where he solaced the weary hours of sickness, by such field-sports as -his failing health enabled him to pursue, in the revision of an improved -edition of ‘Salmonia,’ and in the composition of the ‘Last Days of a -Philosopher.’ Of this he says, in a letter dated Rome, February 6, 1829, -“I write and philosophise a good deal, and have nearly finished a work -with a higher aim than ‘Salmonia.’ It contains the essence of my -philosophical opinions, and some of my poetical reveries.” Under this -sanction, the reader will peruse with pleasure the sketch contained in -the third dialogue of a geological history of the earth, and the other -questions of natural philosophy which are discussed. A large portion of -the work is occupied by metaphysical and religious disquisitions. As a -moral philosopher, his opinions do not seem entitled to peculiar weight. -Of his visionary excursion to the limits of the solar system, it is not -fair to speak but as the play of an exuberant imagination, mastering the -sober faculties of the mind. The work contains many passages, reflective -and descriptive, of unusual beauty; and is a remarkable production to -have been composed under the wasting influence of that disease, which, -of all others, usually exerts the most benumbing influence. - -The winter of 1828–9 he spent at Rome; with returning spring he -expressed a wish to visit Geneva, but his hours were numbered. He -reached that city on May 28, unusually cheerful; dined heartily on fish, -and desired to be daily supplied with every variety which the lake -afforded: a trifling circumstance, yet interesting from its connection -with his love of sport. In the course of the night he was seized with a -fresh attack, and expired early in the morning without a struggle. His -remains were honoured by the magistrates with a public funeral, and -repose in the cemetery of Plain Palais. He died without issue, and the -baronetcy is in consequence extinct. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by W. Holl._ - - KOSCIUSZKO. - - _From a Print engraved in 1829 by A. Pleszczynski, a Pole._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - KOSCIUSKO - - -Among the remarkable men of modern times, there is perhaps none, whose -fame is purer from reproach, than that of Thaddeus Kosciusko. His name -is enshrined in the ruins of his unhappy country, which, with heroic -bravery and devotion, he sought to defend against foreign oppression, -and foreign domination. Kosciusko was born at Warsaw, about the year -1755. He was educated at the school of Cadets, in that city, where he -distinguished himself so much in scientific studies as well as in -drawing, that he was selected as one of four students of that -institution, who were sent to travel at the expense of the state, with a -view of perfecting their talents. In this capacity he visited France, -where he remained for several years, devoting himself to studies of -various kinds. On his return to his own country he entered the army, and -obtained the command of a company. But he was soon obliged to expatriate -himself again, in order to fly from a violent but unrequited passion, -for the daughter of the Marshal of Lithuania, one of the first officers -of state of the Polish court. - -He bent his step to that part of North America, which was then waging -its war of independence against England. Here he entered the army, and -served with distinction, as one of the adjutants of General Washington. -While thus employed, he became acquainted with La Fayette, Lameth, and -other distinguished Frenchmen, serving in the same cause; and was -honoured by receiving the most flattering praises from Franklin, as well -as the public thanks of the Congress of the United Provinces. He was -also decorated with the new American order of Cincinnatus, being the -only European, except La Fayette, to whom it was given. - -At the termination of the war he returned to his own country, where he -lived in retirement till the year 1789, at which period he was promoted -by the Diet to the rank of Major-General. That body was at this time -endeavouring to place its military force upon a respectable footing, in -the vain hope of restraining and diminishing the domineering influence -of foreign powers, in what still remained of Poland. It also occupied -itself in changing the vicious constitution of that unfortunate and -ill-governed country—in rendering the monarchy hereditary—in declaring -universal toleration—and in preserving the privileges of the nobility, -while at the same time it ameliorated the condition of the lower orders. -In all these improvements, Stanislas Poniatowski, the reigning king, -readily concurred; though the avowed intention of the Diet was, to -render the crown hereditary in the Saxon family. The King of Prussia -(Frederic William II.), who, from the time of the Treaty of Cherson in -1787, between Russia and Austria, had become hostile to the former -power, also encouraged the Poles in their proceedings; and even gave -them the most positive assurances of assisting them, in case the changes -they were effecting occasioned any attacks from other sovereigns. - -Russia at length, having made peace with the Turks, prepared to throw -her sword into the scale. A formidable opposition to the measures of the -Diet had arisen, even among the Poles themselves, and occasioned what -was called the confederation of Targowicz, to which the Empress of -Russia promised her assistance. The feeble Stanislas, who had proclaimed -the new constitution, in 1791, bound himself in 1792 to sanction the -Diet of Grodno, which restored the ancient constitution, with all its -vices and all its abuses. In the meanwhile, Frederic William, King of -Prussia, who had so mainly contributed to excite the Poles to their -enterprises, basely deserted them, and refused to give them any -assistance. On the contrary, he stood aloof from the contest, waiting -for that share of the spoil, which the haughty Empress of the north -might think proper to allot to him, as the reward of his -non-interference. - -But though thus betrayed on all sides, the Poles were not disposed to -submit without a struggle. They flew to arms, and found in the nephew of -their king, the Prince Joseph Poniatowski, a general worthy to conduct -so glorious a cause. Under his command Kosciusko first became known in -European warfare. He distinguished himself in the battle of Zielenec, -and still more in that of Dubienska, which took place on the 18th of -June, 1792. Upon this latter occasion, he defended for six hours, with -only four thousand men, against fifteen thousand Russians, a post which -had been slightly fortified in twenty-four hours, and at last retired -with inconsiderable loss. - -But the contest was too unequal to last; the patriots were overwhelmed -by enemies from without, and betrayed by traitors within, at the head of -whom was their own sovereign. The Russians took possession of the -country, and proceeded to appropriate those portions of Lithuania and -Volhynia, which suited their convenience; while Prussia, the friendly -Prussia, invaded another part of the kingdom. - -Under these circumstances, the most distinguished officers in the Polish -army retired from the service, and of this number was Kosciusko. -Miserable at the fate of his unhappy country, and at the same time an -object of suspicion to the ruling powers, he left his native land, and -retired to Leipsic; where he received intelligence of the honour which -had been conferred upon him by the Legislative Assembly of France, who -had invested him with the quality of a French citizen. - -But his fellow-countrymen were still anxious to make another struggle -for independence; and they unanimously selected Kosciusko as their chief -and generalissimo. He obeyed the call, and found the patriots eager to -combat under his orders. Even the noble Joseph Poniatowski, who had -previously commanded in chief, returned from France, whither he had -retired, and received from the hands of Kosciusko the charge of a -portion of his army. - -The patriots had risen in the north of Poland, to which part Kosciusko -first directed his steps. Anxious to begin his campaign with an action -of vigour, he marched rapidly towards Cracow, which town he entered -triumphantly on the 24th of March, 1794. He forthwith published a -manifesto against the Russians; and then, at the head of only five -thousand men, he marched to meet their army. He encountered, on the 4th -of April, ten thousand Russians at a place called Wraclawic; and -entirely defeated them, after a combat of four hours. He returned in -triumph to Cracow, and shortly afterwards marched along the left bank of -the Vistula to Polaniec, where he established his head quarters. - -Meanwhile the inhabitants of Warsaw, animated by the recital of the -heroic deeds of their countrymen, had also raised the standard of -independence, and were successful in driving the Russians from the city, -after a murderous conflict of three days. In Lithuania and Samogitia an -equally successful revolution was effected, before the end of April; -while the Polish troops stationed in Volhynia and Podolia, marched to -the reinforcement of Kosciusko. - -Thus far fortune seemed to smile upon the cause of Polish freedom—the -scene was, however, about to change. The undaunted Kosciusko, having -first organised a national council to conduct the affairs of government, -again advanced against the Russians. On his march, he met a new enemy, -in the person of the faithless Frederic William of Prussia; who, without -having even gone through the preliminary of declaring war, had advanced -into Poland, at the head of forty thousand men. - -Kosciusko, with but thirteen thousand men, attacked the Prussian army on -the 8th of June, at Szcekociny. The battle was long and bloody; at -length, overwhelmed with numbers, he was obliged to retreat towards -Warsaw. This he effected in so able a manner, that his enemies did not -dare to harass him in his march; and he effectually covered the capital, -and maintained his position for two months against vigorous and -continued attacks. Immediately after this reverse the Polish General -Zaionczeck lost the battle of Chelm, and the Governor of Cracow had the -baseness to deliver the town to the Prussians, without attempting a -defence. - -These disasters occasioned disturbances among the disaffected at Warsaw, -which, however, were put down by the vigour and firmness of Kosciusko. -On the 13th of July, the forces of the Prussians and Russians, amounting -to fifty thousand men, assembled under the walls of Warsaw, and -commenced the siege of that city. After six weeks spent before the -place, and a succession of bloody conflicts, the confederates were -obliged to raise the siege; but this respite to the Poles was but of -short duration. - -Their enemies increased fearfully in number, while their own resources -diminished. Austria now determined to assist in the annihilation of -Poland, and caused a body of her troops to enter that kingdom. Nearly at -the same moment, the Russians ravaged Lithuania; and the two corps of -the Russian army, commanded by Suwarof and Fersen, effected their -junction in spite of the battle of Krupezyce, which the Poles had -ventured upon with doubtful issue, against the first of these -commanders, on the 16th of September. - -Upon receiving intelligence of these events, Kosciusko left Warsaw and -placed himself at the head of the Polish army. He was attacked by the -very superior forces of the confederates on the 10th of October, 1794, -at a place called Macieiowice; and for many hours supported the combat -against overwhelming odds. At length he was severely wounded, and as he -fell, he uttered the prophetic words, “_Finis Poloniæ_.” It is asserted, -that he had exacted from his followers an oath, not to suffer him to -fall alive into the hands of the Russians, and that in consequence the -Polish cavalry, being unable to carry him off, inflicted some severe -sabre wounds on him, and left him for dead on the field; a savage -fidelity, which we half admire even in condemning it. Be this as it may, -he was recognised and delivered from the plunderers by some Cossack -chiefs; and thus was saved from death to meet a scarcely less harsh -fate—imprisonment in a Russian dungeon. - -Thomas Wawrzecki became the successor of Kosciusko in the command of the -army; but with the loss of their heroic leader, all hope had deserted -the breasts of the Poles. They still, however, fought with all the -obstinacy of despair, and defended the suburb of Warsaw, called Praga, -with great gallantry. At length this post was wrested from them. Warsaw -itself capitulated on the 9th of November, 1794; and this calamity was -followed by the entire dissolution of the Polish army on the 18th of the -same month. - -During this time, Kosciusko remained in prison at Petersburgh; but, at -the end of two years, the death of his persecutress the Empress -Catherine released him. One of the first acts of the Emperor Paul was to -restore him to liberty, and to load him with various marks of his -favour. Among other gifts of the autocrat was a pension, by which, -however, the high-spirited patriot would never consent to profit. No -sooner was he beyond the reach of Russian influence than he returned to -the donor the instrument, by which this humiliating favour was -conferred. From this period the life of Kosciusko was passed in -retirement. He went first to England, and then to the United States of -America. He returned to the Old World in 1798, and took up his abode in -France, where he divided his time between Paris, and a country-house he -had bought near Fontainbleau. While here he received the appropriate -present of the sword of John Sobieski, which was sent to him by some of -his countrymen serving in the French armies in Italy, who had found it -in the shrine at Loretto. - -Napoleon, when about to invade Poland in 1807, wished to use the name of -Kosciusko, in order to rally the people of the country round his -standard. The patriot, aware that no real freedom was to be hoped for -under such auspices, at once refused to lend himself to his wishes. Upon -this the Emperor forged Kosciusko’s signature to an address to the -Poles, which was distributed throughout the country. Nor would he permit -the injured person to deny the authenticity of this act in any public -manner. The real state of the case was, however, made known to many -through the private representations of Kosciusko; but he was never able -to publish a formal denial of the transaction till after the fall of -Napoleon. - -When the Russians in 1814 had penetrated into Champagne, and were -advancing towards Paris, they were astonished to hear that their former -adversary was living in retirement in that part of the country. The -circumstances of this discovery were striking. The commune in which -Kosciusko lived was subjected to plunder, and among the troops thus -engaged he observed a Polish regiment. Transported with anger he rushed -among them, and thus addressed the officers: “When I commanded brave -soldiers they never pillaged; and I should have punished severely -subalterns who allowed of disorders such as those which we see around. -Still more severely should I have punished older officers, who -authorized such conduct by their culpable neglect.”—“And who are you,” -was the general cry, “that you dare to speak with such boldness to -us?”—“I am Kosciusko.” The effect was electric: the soldiery cast down -their arms, prostrated themselves at his feet, and cast dust upon their -heads according to a national usage, supplicating his forgiveness for -the fault which they had committed. For twenty years the name of -Kosciusko had not been heard in Poland save as that of an exile; yet it -still retained its ancient power over Polish hearts; a power never used -but for some good and generous end. - -The Emperor Alexander honoured him with a long interview, and offered -him an asylum in his own country. But nothing could induce Kosciusko -again to see his unfortunate native land. In 1815, he retired to -Soleure, in Switzerland; where he died, October 16th, 1817, in -consequence of an injury received by a fall from his horse. Not long -before he had abolished slavery upon his Polish estate, and declared all -his serfs entirely free, by a deed registered and executed with every -formality that could ensure the full performance of his intention. The -mortal remains of Kosciusko were removed to Poland at the expense of -Alexander, and have found a fitting place of rest in the cathedral of -Cracow, between those of his companions in arms, Joseph Poniatowski, and -the greatest of Polish warriors, John Sobieski. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by R. Woodman._ - - JOHN FLAXMAN. - - _From the original Picture by_ - John Jackson, - _in the possession of the Right Hon. Lord Dover_. - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - FLAXMAN - - -It was not till the time of Banks and Flaxman, that the English school -had produced any notable specimens of the lofty and heroic style in -sculpture. Wilton, Bacon, and Nollekens, were respectable in their line, -which was nearly confined to allegorical monuments and busts. -Roubilliac, though eminently unclassical, possessed a superior style of -art, and has executed some works which for strength and liveliness of -expression may challenge competition in this or any other country. But -the attainments and genius of the two first-mentioned artists were of a -different, and a loftier class. Those, however, who trace the history of -the lives of Flaxman and Banks, will find, that whatever they achieved -in the higher departments of sculpture was due solely to their ardent -pursuit of excellence, almost unaided by that patronage, which, in this -country, has been so liberally bestowed on other branches of the fine -arts. - -The heroic beauty and noble proportions of the Mourning Achilles, fully -establish the claim of Banks to a high rank as a poetic sculptor; this -fine work of art, however, remained for years in plaster during his -life, and after his death was presented to the British Gallery, where it -now stands in the hall, “as a warning,” observes Mr. Allan Cunningham, -“to all sculptors who enter, that works of classic fancy find slender -encouragement here!” With respect to Flaxman, in an early period of his -professional career, he executed the outline illustrations of Homer, -Æschylus, and Dante, which at once established his fame; and yet, during -a long life, no single patron called upon him to embody in marble any -one of these lofty conceptions, the very existence of which forms the -chief glory of the English school of poetic design. - -The progress of sculpture in this country has been very recently traced -by Mr. Allan Cunningham, in his amusing ‘Memoirs of British Sculptors.’ -Of these, the last, and most interesting, is that of Flaxman, from the -spirited and amusing pages of which, together with the memoir prefixed -to the Lectures on Sculpture, this short account has been chiefly -extracted. - -John Flaxman, the second son of a moulder of figures, who kept a shop in -the Strand for the sale of plaster casts, was born in 1755. Like most -who have been eminent as artists, he early manifested a taste for -drawing. As soon as he could hold a pencil, he took delight in copying -whatever he saw, and at an age when most children are engrossed with -childish sports, he had read many books, and had begun to trace upon -paper the lineaments and actions of those heroes who had engaged his -fancy. Numerous stories are told of his fondness for that art to which -his mature energies were devoted; and, allowing somewhat for the fond -recollections of parents and friends, it is fully established that young -Flaxman early showed proofs both of application and genius. To this -development of his talents, his bodily constitution may have lent some -aid, for his health from infancy was delicate, and a weak, and somewhat -deformed frame, indisposed him from joining in the usual games of -children. - -His station in life did not enable him to profit by the common means of -education; he gathered his knowledge from various sources, and mastered -what he wanted by some of those ready methods which form part of the -inspirations of genius. The introduction, through the means of an early -patron, Mr. Mathew, to Mrs. Barbauld, contributed to improve his -education and form his taste. - -In his fifteenth year he became a student in the Royal Academy. Here he -formed an intimacy with Blake and Stothard, both artists of original -talent; but, like their more eminent companion, less favoured by fortune -than many not so deserving of patronage and applause. - -At the Academy, Flaxman obtained the silver medal, but in the contest -for the gold one, he was worsted by Engleheart, a name now entirely -forgotten. Flaxman, however, though humbled and mortified, was only -stimulated by this defeat to greater exertions and more unwearied -application. - -The narrow circumstances of his father did not allow him to devote his -whole time to unproductive study. His first employment was for the -Wedgewoods; and to this fortunate combination of genius in the artist, -and enterprise, skill, and taste in the manufacturers, the sudden and -rapid improvement of the porcelain of this country is mainly to be -ascribed. “The subjects executed by Flaxman were chiefly small groups in -very low relief, from subjects of ancient verse and history; many of -which,” observes Mr. A. Cunningham, “are equal in beauty and simplicity -to his designs for marble: the Etruscan vases and the architectural -ornaments of Greece supplied him with the finest shapes; these he -embellished with his own inventions, and a taste for forms of elegance -began to be diffused over the land. Flaxman loved to allude, even when -his name was established, to these humble labours; and since his death, -the original models have been eagerly sought after.” A set of chessmen, -also executed for the Wedgewoods, are exceedingly beautiful. - -Whilst earning by his labour a decent subsistence, he continued his -devotion to the pursuit of his art, making designs from the Greek poets, -the Pilgrim’s Progress, and the Bible. He exhibited various works at the -Academy; but it does not appear that he was enabled by patronage to -execute any of these in marble, and it is, perhaps, owing to the little -practice that he had in early life in this mode of working, that his -admitted want of excellence in this branch of the art of sculpture is to -be attributed. - -In 1782 he left his father’s home, and married an amiable and -accomplished woman, whose society and affection formed the chief -happiness of his after life. All those who knew them, describe in -glowing terms the harmony and mutual affection in which they lived. In -1787 he determined to visit Rome. Two monuments which he executed before -his departure deserve notice. One is in memory of Collins. It represents -the poet seated, reading what he told Dr. Johnson was his only book, -‘THE BIBLE,’ whilst his lyre and poetical compositions lie neglected on -the ground. The second is erected in Gloucester cathedral, to Mrs. -Morley, who perished with her child at sea, and is represented as rising -with the infant from the waves, at the summons of angels. The simple and -serene beauty of this work is admirably suited for monumental sculpture. - -How he profited whilst at Rome by the study of those noble specimens of -ancient art, to which modern artists resort as the best school of -excellence, is shown in the outline illustrations of Homer, Æschylus, -and Dante; works which spread his fame throughout Europe, and at once -stamped the character of the English School of Design. These -compositions, which have been the admiration of every nation where art -is cultivated, which have been repeatedly published in Germany and -Italy, as well as in England, and which have been commented on with -unlimited praise by Schlegel, and almost every other modern writer on -the fine arts, were made, the Homeric series for fifteen shillings; -those taken from Æschylus and Dante, for one guinea each. It is not -creditable to English taste that this country does not possess a single -group, or even bas-relief, executed from them, although the author lived -for more than thirty years after their publication. - -Of the illustrations of the Iliad, there are in all thirty-nine; of the -Odyssey, thirty-four. Of the designs from Dante, thirty-eight are taken -from the Hell, thirty-eight from the Purgatory, and thirty-three from -the Paradise. The Homeric series was made for Mrs. Hare. The -illustrations of Æschylus were undertaken at the desire of the Countess -Spencer; and those of the Divina Commedia were executed for Mr. Thomas -Hope, one of Flaxman’s early patrons, for whom, whilst at Rome, he -executed in marble a very beautiful small-sized group of Cephalus and -Aurora. - -Of these three series, the Homeric is the most popular. This preference -may, perhaps, be accounted for by the Grecian poem being more generally -familiar than that of Dante: yet the subject of the Divina Commedia in -many respects appears to have been more congenial to the talents of the -artist; and perhaps an impartial judgment will pronounce, that of all -the works of Flaxman, the designs from Dante best exhibit his peculiar -genius. During his stay at Rome he executed for Frederick, Earl of -Bristol and Bishop of Derry, a group in marble, which consisted of four -figures larger than life, representing the fury of Athamas, from Ovid’s -Metamorphoses: by this he lost money, the price agreed on being only six -hundred guineas; a sum insufficient to cover the expenses of the work. -The recollection of this piece of patronage was so disgusting, to use -the word by which he himself once characterized it, that in after life -he could not bear to talk on the subject. - -Whilst in Italy he made numerous drawings and memoranda upon ancient -art, which afterwards formed the groundwork of his lectures on -sculpture. After an absence of seven years he returned to England, and -engaged a house in Buckingham-street, in which he continued to reside -till his death. - -His first great work after his return was a monument to the Earl of -Mansfield. In 1797 he was elected an associate, and in 1800, a member of -the Royal Academy, to which he presented, on his admission, a marble -group of Apollo and Marpessa. He visited for a short time, in 1802, the -splendid collections of the Louvre, in order to revive his early -recollection of the works of art which had been brought from Rome. In -1810, a professorship of sculpture having been established by the -Academy, he was elected to fill the chair, and his lectures were -commenced in 1811. Those who had formed high expectations of eloquence, -and of felicity of diction and illustration, were disappointed. The -sedate gravity of his manner, his unimpassioned tone, and the somewhat -dull catalogue of statues and works of art which he occasionally -introduced, conduced to tire a general audience. But the ten lectures, -which have been published since his death, must always furnish an -important manual to every student in sculpture. The lectures on Beauty, -and the contrast of Ancient and Modern Sculpture, are peculiarly -interesting, and embody nearly all which can be said on the leading -principles of art. In addition to these lectures he wrote several -anonymous articles, which are enumerated by Mr. Cunningham. These were -the ‘Character of the Works of Romney,’ for Hayley’s life of that -artist, and either the whole or part of the articles, Armour, -Basso-relievo, Beauty, Bronze, Bust, Composition, Cast, Ceres, in Rees’s -Cyclopædia. Many of the opinions put forth in these different essays he -has embodied in his lectures. - -Besides the designs already noticed, he executed numerous illustrations -of the Pilgrim’s Progress, forty designs for Sotheby’s translation of -Oberon, and thirty-six designs from Hesiod, illustrating the story of -Pandora, and exhibiting the effects of her descent on earth. The -subjects from Hesiod were those in which his poetic fancy appeared most -to delight. - -In 1820, Flaxman lost his wife, with whom he had lived in uninterrupted -happiness for thirty-eight years, and from the effects of this -bereavement he seemed never entirely to recover. A beloved sister, and -the sister of her whom he most loved, remained to him, and continued his -companions till his death. - -At the time of this domestic misfortune the artist was in the zenith of -his fame. Commissions poured in, and among them, one order especially -worthy of his talents, for a group of the Archangel Michael vanquishing -Satan, given by the Earl of Egremont, a nobleman who has omitted no -opportunity of patronising the fine arts in this country. This group -exhibits more grandeur of conception than any work of art of modern -times. Unfortunately the marble of which it was cut was much -discoloured, and the work was not entirely finished at his death. -Amongst the finest of Flaxman’s later productions, Mr. Cunningham -enumerates his Pysche, the pastoral Apollo (also in the possession of -Lord Egremont), and two small statues of Michael Angelo and Raphael. But -the most remarkable of them is the shield of Achilles, designed and -modelled for Messrs. Rundell and Bridge, the silversmiths. The diameter -is three feet, and the description of Homer has been strictly followed. -In the centre is the chariot of the sun, in bold relief, almost starting -from the surface, surrounded by the most remarkable of the heavenly -bodies: around the rim is rolled the ever flowing ocean. The -intermediate space is occupied by twelve scenes, beautifully designed in -conformity with the words of the poet. For this the artist was paid -£620. Four casts of it in silver were taken, the first for the late -King, another for the Duke of York, the third for Lord Lonsdale, the -fourth for the Duke of Northumberland. - -Flaxman died on the 7th of December, 1826, of an inflammation of the -lungs, the result of a cold. In person he was small, and slightly -deformed, but his countenance was peculiarly placid and benign, and -greatly expressive of genius. His dress, manners, and mode of life were -simple in the extreme: he was never found at the parties of the rich and -great, and mixed little even with his professional brethren. His life -was spent in a small circle of affectionate friends, in his studio, and -in his workshops, where those whom he employed looked up to him as a -father. - -Amongst the different classes of his works, the religious and the poetic -were those in which he chiefly excelled. The number of pure and exalted -conceptions, which he has left sketched in plaster or outlined in -pencil, is quite extraordinary. “His solitude,” observes Sir Thomas -Lawrence, “was made enjoyment to him by a fancy teeming with images of -tenderness, purity, or grandeur. His genius, in the strictest sense of -the word, was original and inventive.” Among the most important of his -works not before noticed, is his monument to the memory of Sir Francis -Baring, in Mitcheldever Church, Hants, a work of exquisite beauty, both -in design and expression, embodying the words, “Thy kingdom come—thy -will be done—deliver us from evil.” He also executed, among others, -monuments to the memory of Mary Lushington, of Lewisham, in Kent, to the -Countess Spencer, to the Rev. Mr. Clowes, of St. John’s Church, -Manchester, and to the Yarborough family at Street Thorpe, near York. -This last, and one to Edward Bulmer, representing an aged man -instructing a youthful pair, Flaxman considered the best of his -compositions. - -He executed several historical monuments to naval and military -commanders. These deal too largely in emblems and allegories, -Britannias, lions, victories, and wreaths of laurel, to add much to the -reputation of the artist: especially as his forte lay in the exquisite -feeling and grace of his conceptions, not in manual dexterity of -execution; the chief merit to which such cold and uninteresting -productions can lay claim. He executed statues of Sir Joshua Reynolds; -of Sir John Moore, in bronze, of colossal size, for Glasgow; of Pitt, -for the Town-Hall of the same city; of Burns; and of Kemble, in the -character of Coriolanus. That of Sir Joshua Reynolds (one of his -earliest) is perhaps the best. Many of his works were sent abroad: for -India he executed a statue of the Rajah of Tanjore, and a monument to -the celebrated Schwartz; two monuments in memory of Lord Cornwallis, a -figure of Warren Hastings, and a statue of the Marquess of Hastings. - -Since the death of Flaxman, six plates have been published by his -sister, from his designs. The subjects are religious; the engravings are -admirable fac-similes of the original drawings, which were made in his -best time; and perhaps there is no published work of his more -illustrative of the peculiar taste and genius of the artist. - -Our Portrait has been engraved from a fine picture by Jackson, in the -possession of Lord Dover. There is also an excellent portrait painted by -Howard, and a good bust of Flaxman was executed by Baily some few years -before our artist’s death. - -[Illustration: [“Feed the hungry,” from a bas-relief of Flaxman.]] - - - - -[Illustration] - - COPERNICUS - - -The illustrious discoverer of the true planetary motions, whose features -are represented on the accompanying plate, lived during the latter part -of the fifteenth century, and the first half of the following one. -Notwithstanding the success and celebrity of the theory which still -bears his name, the materials are very scanty for personal details -regarding his life and character. This ignorance is not the result of -recent neglect. A century had scarcely elapsed from the time of his -death, when Gassendi, who, at the request of the poet Chapelain, -undertook to compile an account of him, was forced to preface it by a -similar declaration. - -Whilst Europe rang from one end to the other with the fierce dispute to -which the new views of the relation and motions of the heavenly bodies -gave rise, the character, the situation and manner of life, almost the -country, of the great author of the controversy, remained unknown to the -greater number of his admirers and opponents. Even the name of the -discoverer of the Copernican system now appears strange, except in the -Latinised form of Copernicus, in which alone it occurs in his own -writings and in those of his commentators. - -Nicolas Cöpernik[1], to use his genuine appellation, was a native of -Thorn, a city of Polish Prussia, situated on the river Weichsel or -Vistula. He was born in the year 1473. Little is known of his parents, -except that his father, whose name also was Nicolas, was a surgeon, and, -as it is believed, of German extraction. The elder Cöpernik was -undoubtedly a stranger at Thorn, where he was naturalized in 1462: he -married Barbara, of the noble Polish family of Watzelrode. Luke, one of -her brothers, attained the high dignity of Bishop of Ermeland in the -year 1489, and the prospects of advancement which this connection held -out to young Cöpernik, probably induced his father to destine him to the -ecclesiastical profession. He acquired at home the first elements of a -liberal education, and afterwards graduated at Cracow, where he remained -till he received the diploma of Doctor in Arts and Medicine from that -university. He is said to have made considerable proficiency in the -latter branch of study; and possessed, even in more advanced life, so -high a reputation for skill and knowledge, as to produce an erroneous -belief that he had once followed medicine. - -Footnote 1: - - The authority for this manner of spelling the name is Hartknoch, Alt - und Neues Preussen. The inscription, Nicolao Copernico, which appears - on the plate, is a literal copy of the inscription on the original - picture. - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by E. Scriven._ - - NICOLAO COPERNICO. - - _From a Picture in the possession of the Royal Society, presented by - D^r. Wolf, of Dantzic, June 6, 1770._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - -He also exhibited at an early age a very decided taste for mathematical -studies, especially for astronomy; and attended the lectures, both -public and private, of Albert Brudzewski, then mathematical professor at -Cracow. Under his tuition, Copernicus, as we shall hereafter call him, -became acquainted with the works of the astronomer, John Müller, (now -more commonly known by his assumed appellation of Regiomontanus,) and -the reputation of this celebrated man is said to have exercised a marked -influence in deciding the bent of his future studies. Müller died at -Rome a few years after the birth of Copernicus, and when the latter had -reached an age capable of appreciating excellence and nourishing -emulation, he found Müller’s works disseminated through every civilized -country of Europe, his genius and acquirements the subject of universal -admiration, and his premature death still regretted as a public -calamity. The feelings to which the contemplation of Müller’s success -gave rise, were still more excited by a journey into Italy, which -Copernicus undertook about the year 1495. One of his brothers and his -maternal uncle were already settled in Rome, which was therefore the -point to which his steps eventually tended. He quitted home in his -twenty-third year; when his diligence in cultivating the practical part -of astronomy had already procured for him some reputation as a skilful -observer. It seems to have been in contemplation of this journey that he -began to study painting, in which he afterwards became a tolerable -proficient. - -Bologna was the first place at which he made any stay, being drawn -thither by the reputation of the astronomical professor, Dominic Maria -Novarra. Copernicus was not more delighted with this able instructor -than Novarra with his intelligent pupil. He soon became an assistant and -companion of Novarra in his observations, and in this capacity acquired -considerable distinction, so that on his departure from Bologna and -arrival at Rome, he found that his reputation had preceded him. He was -appointed to a professorship in that city, where he continued to teach -mathematics for some years with considerable success. - -It does not appear at what time Copernicus entered into holy orders: -probably it may have been during his residence at Rome; for on his -return home he was named to the superintendence of the principal church -in his native city Thorn. Not long afterwards his uncle Luke, who, in -1489, succeeded Nicolas von Thungen in the bishopric of Ermeland, -enrolled him as one of the canons of his chapter. The cathedral church -of the diocese of Ermeland is situated at Frauenburg, a small town built -near one of the mouths of the Vistula, on the shore of the lake called -Frische Haff, separated only by a narrow strip of land from the Gulf of -Dantzig. In this situation, rendered unfavourable to astronomical -observations by the frequent marshy exhalations rising from the river -and lake, Copernicus took up his future abode, and made it the principal -place of his residence during the remainder of his life. Here those -astronomical speculations were renewed and perfected, the results of -which have for ever consigned to oblivion the subtle contrivances -invented by his predecessors to account for the anomalies of their own -complicated theories. - -But we should form a very erroneous opinion of the life and character of -Copernicus, if we considered him, as it is probable that by most he is -considered, the quiet inhabitant of a cloister, immersed solely in -speculative inquiries. His disposition did not unfit him for taking an -active share in the stirring events which were occurring around him, and -it was not left entirely to his choice whether he would remain a mere -spectator of them. - -The chapter of Ermeland, at the time when he became a member of it, was -the centre of a violent political struggle, in the decision of which -Copernicus himself was called on to act a considerable part. In the -latter half of the fifteenth century, a bitter war was carried on -between the King of Poland and a military religious fraternity, called -the Teutonic or German Knights of St. Mary of Jerusalem, who were -incorporated towards the end of the twelfth century. Having been called -into Prussia, they established themselves permanently in the country, -built Thorn and several other cities, and gradually acquired a -considerable share of independent power. On the death of Paul von -Segendorf, bishop of Ermeland, Casimir, king of Poland, in pursuance of -a design which he was then prosecuting, to get into his own hands the -nomination to all the bishoprics in his dominions, appointed his -secretary, Stanislas Opporowski, to the vacant see. The chapter of -Ermeland proceeded notwithstanding to a separate nomination, and elected -Nicolas von Thungen. Opporowski, backed by Casimir, entered Ermeland at -the head of a powerful army. From this period the new Bishop of Ermeland -necessarily made common cause with the German Knights; they renounced -their allegiance to the crown of Poland, and threw themselves on the -protection of Matthias king of Hungary. At length, Casimir finding -himself unable to master the confederacy, separated Nicolas von Thungen -from it, by agreeing to recognise him as Prince-Bishop of Ermeland, on -the usual condition of homage. Nicolas thus became confirmed in his -dignity, but his unhappy subjects did not fare better on that account, -the country being now exposed to the fury of the German Knights, as it -had suffered before from the violence of the Polish soldiery. These -disturbances were continued during the life of Luke Watzelrode, and the -city of Frauenburg, as well as its neighbour Braunsburg, frequently -became the theatre of warlike operations. - -The management of the see was often committed to the care of Copernicus -during the absence of his uncle, who on political grounds resided for -the most part at the Court; and his activity in maintaining the rights -of the chapter rendered him especially obnoxious to the Teutonic Order. -In one of the short intervals of tranquillity, they took occasion to -cite him before the meeting of the States at Posen, on account of some -of his reports to his uncle concerning their encroachments. Gassendi, -who mentions this circumstance, merely adds that at length his own and -his uncle’s merit secured the latter in the possession of his dignity. -In 1512 Watzelrode died, and Copernicus was chosen as administrator of -the see until the appointment of the new bishop, Fabian von Losingen. In -1518 the knights under their grand master, Albert of Brandenburg, took -possession of Frauenburg and burnt it to the ground. - -During the following year hostilities continued in the immediate -neighbourhood of Frauenburg, but in the course of that summer, -negotiations for peace between the Teutonic Order and the King of Poland -were begun, through the mediation of the bishop. At last a truce was -agreed upon for four years, during which Fabian von Losingen died, and -Copernicus was again chosen administrator of the bishopric. In 1525 -peace was concluded with the Teutonic Knights, Albert having consented -to receive Prussia as a temporal fief from the King of Poland. It was -probably on this occasion that Copernicus was selected to represent the -chapter of Ermeland at the Diet at Graudenz, where the terms of peace -were finally settled; and by his firmness the chapter recovered great -part of the possessions which had been endangered during the war. This -service to his chapter was followed by another of more widely extended -importance. During the struggle, which had continued with little -interruption for more than half a century, the currency had become -greatly debased and depreciated; and one of the most important subjects -of deliberation at the meeting at Graudenz related to the best method of -restoring it. There was a great difference of opinion whether the -intended new coinage should be struck according to the old value of the -currency, or according to that to which it had fallen in consequence of -its adulteration. To assist in the settlement of this important -question, Copernicus drew up a table of the relative value of the coins, -then in circulation throughout the country. He presented this to the -States, accompanied by a memoir on the same subject, an extract from -which may be seen in Hartknoch’s History of Prussia. Throughout the -troublesome period of which we have just given an outline, Copernicus -seems to have displayed much political courage and talent. When -tranquillity was at length restored, he resumed the astronomical studies -which had been thus interrupted by more active duties. - -There appears to be little doubt that the philosopher began to meditate -on the ideas which led him to the true knowledge of the constitution of -the solar system, at least as early as 1507. Every one, who has heard -the name of Copernicus mentioned, is aware that before him the general -belief was, that the earth occupies the centre of the universe; that the -changes of day and night are produced by the rapid revolution of the -heavens, such as our senses erroneously lead us to believe, until more -accurate and complicated observation teaches us the contrary; that the -change of seasons and apparent motions of the planetary bodies are -caused by the revolution of the sun and planets from west to east round -the earth, in orbits of various complexity, subject to the common daily -motion of all from east to west. - -Instead of the daily motion of the heavens from east to west, Copernicus -substituted the revolution of the earth itself from west to east. He -explained the other phenomena of the planetary motions by supposing the -sun to be fixed, and the earth and other planets to revolve about him; -not, however, in simple circular orbits, according to the popular view -of the Copernican theory. It was absolutely necessary to retain much of -the old machinery of deferent and epicycle so long as the prejudice -existed, from which Copernicus himself was not free, that nothing but -circular motion is to be found in the heavens. Another step was made by -the following generation, and astronomers were taught by Kepler to -believe that the circular motion which they were so anxious to preserve -in their theories, has no real existence in the planetary orbits. The -advantage of the new system above the old, was, that by not denying to -the earth the motion which it really possesses, the author had to invent -epicycles to explain only the real irregularities of the motions of the -other planets, and not those apparent ones which arise out of the motion -of the orb from which they are viewed. - -It is commonly said that besides the two motions already mentioned, -Copernicus attributed to the earth a third annual revolution on its -axis. This was necessary from the idea which he had formed of its motion -in its orbit. He conceived the earth to be carried round as if resting -on a lever centred in the sun, which would cause the poles of the daily -motion to point successively to different parts of the heavens; the -third motion was added to restore these poles to their true position in -every part of the orbit. It was afterwards seen that these two annual -motions might be considered as resulting from one of a different kind, -and in this simpler form they are now always considered by astronomical -writers. - -It would be an interesting inquiry to follow Copernicus through the -train of reasoning which induced him to venture upon these changes; but -it is impossible to attempt this, or to explain his system, within the -limits to which this sketch is necessarily confined. In one point of -view, his peculiar merit appears not to be in general sufficiently -insisted upon. If he had merely suggested the principles of his new -theory, he would doubtless have acquired, as now, the glory of lighting -upon the true order of the solar system, and of founding thereupon a new -school of astronomy: but his peculiar and characteristic merit, that by -which he really earned his reputation, and which entitles him to take -rank by the side of Newton in the history of astronomy, was the result -of his conviction, that if his principles were indeed true, they would -be verified by the examination of details, and the persevering -resolution with which he thereupon set himself to rebuild an -astronomical theory from the foundation. This was the reason, at least -as much as the fear of incurring censure, why he delayed the publication -of his system for thirty-six years. During the greater part of that time -he was employed in collecting, by careful observation, the materials of -which it is constructed: the opinions on which it is based, comprising -the whole of what was afterwards declared to be heretical and impious, -were widely known to be entertained by him long before the work itself -appeared. He delayed to announce them formally, until he was able at the -same time to show that they were not random guesses, taken up from a -mere affectation of novelty; but that with their assistance he had -compiled tables of the planetary motions, which were immediately -acknowledged even by those whose minds revolted most against the means -by which they were obtained, to be far more correct than any which till -then had appeared. - -Copernicus’s book seems to have been nearly completed in 1536, which is -the date of a letter addressed to him by Cardinal Schonberg, prefixed to -the work. So far at this time was the church of Rome from having decided -on the line of stubborn opposition to the new opinions, which, in the -following century, so much to her own disgrace, she adopted, that -Copernicus was chiefly moved to complete and publish his work by the -solicitations of this cardinal, and of Tindemann Giese, the bishop of -Culm; and the book itself was dedicated to Pope Paul III. It is -entitled, ‘De Revolutionibus Orbium Cœlestium, Libri VI.’ The dedication -is written in a very different strain from that to which his followers -were soon afterwards restricted. He there boldly avows his expectation -that his theory would be attacked as contrary to the Scriptures, and his -contempt of such ill-considered judgment. A more timid preface, in which -the new theory is spoken of as a mere mathematical hypothesis, was added -to this dedication by Osiander, to whom Copernicus had entrusted the -care of preparing the book for publication. It has been said that the -author was far from approving this, and if his death had not followed -closely upon its publication, it is not improbable that he would have -suppressed it. - -The revolution of opinion that has followed the publication of this -memorable work was not immediately perceptible: even to the end of the -sixteenth century, as Montucla observes, the number of converts to its -doctrines might be easily reckoned. The majority contented themselves -with a disdainful sneer at the folly of introducing such ridiculous -notions among the grave doctrines of astronomy: but although -impertinent, it was as yet considered harmless; and all those who were -at the pains to examine the reasoning on which the new theory was -grounded, were allowed, unmolested, to own themselves convinced by it. -It was not until the spirit of philosophical inquiry was fully awakened, -that the church of Rome became sensible how much danger lurked in the -new doctrines; and when the struggle began in earnest between the -partisans of truth and falsehood, the censures pronounced upon the -advocates of the earth’s motion, were in fact aimed through them at all -who presumed, even in natural phenomena, to see with other eyes than -those of their spiritual advisers. - -Copernicus did not live to witness any part of the effect produced by -his book. A sudden attack of dysentery and paralysis put an end to his -life, within a few hours after the first printed copy had been shown to -him, in his seventy-second year, on the 24th May, 1543, one century -before the birth of Newton. The house at Thorn, in which he is said to -have been born, is still shown, as well as that at Frauenburg, in which -he passed the greater part of his life. An hydraulic machine, of which -only the remains now exist, for supplying the houses of the canons with -water, and another of similar construction at Graudenz, which is still -in use, are said to have been constructed by him. An account of them may -be seen in Nanke’s Travels. From the little that is known of -Copernicus’s private character, his morals appear to have been -unexceptionable; his temper good, his disposition kind, but inclining to -seriousness. He was so highly esteemed in his own neighbourhood, that -the attempt of a dramatic author to satirise him, by introducing his -doctrine of the earth’s motion upon the stage at Elbing, was received by -the audience with the greatest indignation. He was buried in the -cemetery of the chapter of Ermeland, and only a plain marble slab, -inscribed with his name, marked the place of his interment. Until this -was rediscovered in the latter half of the last century, an opinion -prevailed that his remains had been transported to Thorn, and buried in -the church of St. John, where the portrait of him is preserved, from -which most of the prints in circulation have been taken. It is engraved -in Hartknoch’s Prussia, and, according to that author, copies of it were -frequently made. The portrait prefixed to Gassendi’s life, is a copy of -that given in Boissard, with the addition of a furred robe. There is a -good engraving of the same likeness, by Falck, a Polish artist, who -lived about a century later than Copernicus. In the year 1584, Tycho -Brahe commissioned Elia Olai to visit Frauenburg, for the purpose of -more accurately determining the latitude of Copernicus’s observatory, -and, on that occasion, received as a present from the chapter the -Ptolemaic scales, made by the astronomer himself, which he used in his -observatory, and also a portrait of him said to have been painted by his -own hand. Tycho placed these memorials, with great honour, in his own -observatory, but it is not known what became of them after his death, -and the dispersion of his instruments. The portrait, from which the -engraving prefixed to this account is taken, belongs to the Royal -Society, to which it was sent by Dr. Wolff, from Dantzig, in 1776. It -was copied by Lormann, a Prussian artist, from one which had been long -preserved and recognised as an original in the collection of the Dukes -of Saxe Gotha. In 1735, Prince Grabowski, bishop of Ermeland, exchanged -for it the portrait of an ancestor of the reigning duke, who had been -formerly bishop of that see. Grabowski left it to his chamberlain, M. -Hussarzewski, in whose possession it remained when the copy was made. -Dr. Wolff, in the letter accompanying his present, (inserted in the -Phil. Trans. vol. lxvii.) declares that this original had been compared -with the Thorn portrait, and that the resemblance of the two is perfect. -It does not appear very striking in the engravings. A colossal statue of -Copernicus, executed by Thorwaldsen, was erected at Warsaw in 1830, with -all the demonstrations of honour due to the memory of a man who holds so -distinguished a place in the history of human discoveries. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by T. Woolnoth._ - - JOHN MILTON. - - _From a Miniature of the same size by Faithorne. Anno 1667, in the - possession of William Falconer Esq._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - MILTON - - -That sanctity which settles on the memory of a great man, ought upon a -double motive to be vigilantly sustained by his countrymen; first, out -of gratitude to him, as one column of the national grandeur; secondly, -with a practical purpose of transmitting unimpaired to posterity the -benefit of ennobling models. High standards of excellence are among the -happiest distinctions by which the modern ages of the world have an -advantage over earlier, and we are all interested by duty as well as -policy in preserving them inviolate. To the benefit of this principle, -none amongst the great men of England is better entitled than Milton, -whether as respects his transcendent merit, or the harshness with which -his memory has been treated. - -John Milton was born in London on the 9th day of December, 1608. His -father, in early life, had suffered for conscience’ sake, having been -disinherited upon his abjuring the popish faith. He pursued the -laborious profession of a scrivener, and having realised an ample -fortune, retired into the country to enjoy it. Educated at Oxford, he -gave his son the best education that the age afforded. At first, young -Milton had the benefit of a private tutor: from him he was removed to -St. Paul’s School; next he proceeded to Christ’s College, Cambridge, and -finally, after several years’ preparation by extensive reading, he -pursued a course of continental travel. It is to be observed, that his -tutor, Thomas Young, was a Puritan, and there is reason to believe that -Puritan politics prevailed among the fellows of his college. This must -not be forgotten in speculating on Milton’s public life, and his -inexorable hostility to the established government in church and state; -for it will thus appear probable, that he was at no time withdrawn from -the influence of Puritan connections. - -In 1632, having taken the degree of M.A., Milton finally quitted the -University, leaving behind him a very brilliant reputation, and a -general good will in his own college. His father had now retired from -London, and lived upon his own estate at Horton, in Buckinghamshire. In -this rural solitude, Milton passed the next five years, resorting to -London only at rare intervals, for the purchase of books or music. His -time was chiefly occupied with the study of Greek and Roman, and, no -doubt, also of Italian literature. But that he was not negligent of -composition, and that he applied himself with great zeal to the culture -of his native literature, we have a splendid record in his ‘Comus,’ -which, upon the strongest presumptions, is ascribed to this period of -his life. In the same neighbourhood, and within the same five years, it -is believed that he produced also the Arcades, and the Lycidas, together -with L’Allegro, and Il Penseroso. - -In 1637 Milton’s mother died, and in the following year he commenced his -travels. The state of Europe confined his choice of ground to France and -Italy. The former excited in him but little interest. After a short stay -at Paris he pursued the direct route to Nice, where he embarked for -Genoa, and thence proceeded to Pisa, Florence, Rome, and Naples. He -originally meant to extend his tour to Sicily and Greece; but the news -of the first Scotch war, having now reached him, agitated his mind with -too much patriotic sympathy to allow of his embarking on a scheme of -such uncertain duration. Yet his homeward movements were not remarkable -for expedition. He had already spent two months in Florence, and as many -in Rome, yet he devoted the same space of time to each of them on his -return. From Florence he proceeded to Lucca, and thence, by Bologna and -Ferrara, to Venice; where he remained one month, and then pursued his -homeward route through Verona, Milan, and Geneva. - -Sir Henry Wotton had recommended, as the rule of his conduct, a -celebrated Italian proverb, inculcating the policy of reserve and -dissimulation. From a practised diplomatist, this advice was -characteristic; but it did not suit the frankness of Milton’s manners, -nor the nobleness of his mind. He has himself stated to us his own rule -of conduct, which was to move no questions of controversy, yet not to -evade them when pressed upon him by others. Upon this principle he -acted, not without some offence to his associates, nor wholly without -danger to himself. But the offence, doubtless, was blended with respect; -the danger was passed; and he returned home with all his purposes -fulfilled. He had conversed with Galileo; he had seen whatever was most -interesting in the monuments of Roman grandeur, or the triumphs of -Italian art; and he could report with truth, that in spite of his -religion, every where undissembled, he had been honoured by the -attentions of the great, and by the compliments of the learned. - -After fifteen months of absence, Milton found himself again in London at -a crisis of unusual interest. The king was on the eve of his second -expedition against the Scotch; and we may suppose Milton to have been -watching the course of events with profound anxiety, not without some -anticipation of the patriotic labour which awaited him. Meantime he -occupied himself with the education of his sister’s two sons, and soon -after, by way of obtaining an honourable maintenance, increased the -number of his pupils. - -Dr. Johnson, himself at one period of his life a schoolmaster, on this -occasion indulges in a sneer which is too injurious to be neglected. -“Let not our veneration for Milton,” says he, “forbid us to look with -some degree of merriment on great promises and small performance: on the -man who hastens home because his countrymen are contending for their -liberty; and when he reaches the scene of action, vapours away his -patriotism in a private boarding-school.” It is not true that Milton had -made “great promises,” or any promises at all. But if he had made the -greatest, his exertions for the next sixteen years nobly redeemed them. -In what way did Dr. Johnson expect that his patriotism should be -expressed? As a soldier? Milton has himself urged his bodily weakness -and intellectual strength, as reasons for following a line of duty for -which he was better fitted. Was he influenced in his choice by fear of -military dangers or hardships? Far from it: “for I did not,” he says, -“shun those evils, without engaging to render to my fellow-citizens -services much more useful, and attended with no less of danger.” What -services were those? We shall state them in his own words, anticipated -from an after period. “When I observed that there are in all three modes -of liberty—first, ecclesiastical liberty; secondly, civil liberty; -thirdly, domestic: having myself already treated of the first, and -noticing that the magistrate was taking steps in behalf of the second, I -concluded that the third, that is to say, domestic, or household -liberty, remained to me as my peculiar province. And whereas this again -is capable of a threefold division, accordingly as it regards the -interests of conjugal life in the first place, or those of education in -the second, or finally the freedom of speech, and the right of giving -full publication to sound opinions,—I took it upon myself to defend all -three, the first, by my Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce, the second, -by my Tractate upon Education, the third, by my Areopagitica.” - -In 1641 he conducted his defence of ecclesiastical liberty, in a series -of attacks upon episcopacy. These are written in a bitter spirit of -abusive hostility, for which we seek an insufficient apology in his -exclusive converse with a party which held bishops in abhorrence, and in -the low personal respectability of a large portion of the episcopal -bench. - -At Whitsuntide, in the year 1645, having reached his 35th year, he -married Mary Powel, a young lady of good extraction in the county of -Oxford. One month after, he allowed his wife to visit her family. This -permission, in itself somewhat singular, the lady abused; for when -summoned back to her home, she refused to return. Upon this provocation, -Milton set himself seriously to consider the extent of the obligations -imposed by the nuptial vow; and soon came to the conclusion, that in -point of conscience it was not less dissoluble for hopeless -incompatibility of temper than for positive adultery, and that human -laws, in as far as they opposed this principle, called for reformation. -These views he laid before the public in his Doctrine and Discipline of -Divorce. In treating this question, he had relied entirely upon the -force of argument, not aware that he had the countenance of any great -authorities; but finding soon afterwards that some of the early -reformers, Bucer and P. Martyr, had taken the same view as himself, he -drew up an account of their comments on this subject. Hence arose the -second of his tracts on Divorce. Meantime, as it was certain that many -would abide by what they supposed to be the positive language of -Scripture, in opposition to all authority whatsoever, he thought it -advisable to write a third tract on the proper interpretation of the -chief passages in Scripture, which refer to this point. A fourth tract, -by way of answer to the different writers who had opposed his opinions, -terminated the series. - -Meantime the lady, whose rash conduct had provoked her husband into -these speculations, saw reason to repent of her indiscretion, and -finding that Milton held her desertion to have cancelled all claims upon -his justice, wisely resolved upon making her appeal to his generosity. -This appeal was not made in vain: in a single interview at the house of -a common friend, where she had contrived to surprise him, and suddenly -to throw herself at his feet, he granted her a full forgiveness: and so -little did he allow himself to remember her misconduct, or that of her -family, in having countenanced her desertion, that soon afterwards, when -they were involved in the general ruin of the royal cause, he received -the whole of them into his house, and exerted his political influence -very freely in their behalf. Fully to appreciate this behaviour, we must -recollect that Milton was not rich, and that no part of his wife’s -marriage portion (£1000) was ever paid to him. - -His thoughts now settled upon the subject of education, which it must -not be forgotten that he connected systematically with domestic liberty. -In 1644 he published his essay on this great theme, in the form of a -letter to his friend Hartlib, himself a person of no slight -consideration. In the same year he wrote his ‘Areopagitica, a speech for -the liberty of unlicensed printing.’ This we are to consider in the -light of an oral pleading, or regular oration, for he tells us expressly -[Def. 2.] that he wrote it “ad justæ orationis modum.” It is the finest -specimen extant of generous scorn. And very remarkable it is, that -Milton, who broke the ground on this great theme, has exhausted the -arguments which bear upon it. He opened the subject: he closed it. And -were there no other monument of his patriotism and his genius, for this -alone he would deserve to be held in perpetual veneration. In the -following year, 1645, was published the first collection of his early -poems: with his sanction, undoubtedly, but probably not upon his -suggestion. The times were too full of anxiety to allow of much -encouragement to polite literature: at no period were there fewer -readers of poetry. And for himself in particular, with the exception of -a few sonnets, it is probable that he composed as little as others read, -for the next ten years: so great were his political exertions. - -Early in 1649 the king was put to death. For a full view of the state of -parties which led to this memorable event, we must refer the reader to -the history of the times. That act was done by the Independent party, to -which Milton belonged, and was precipitated by the intrigues of the -Presbyterians, who were making common cause with the king, to ensure the -overthrow of the Independents. The lamentations and outcries of the -Presbyterians were long and loud. Under colour of a generous sympathy -with the unhappy prince, they mourned for their own political -extinction, and the triumph of their enemies. This Milton well knew, and -to expose the selfishness of their clamours, as well as to disarm their -appeals to the popular feeling, he now published his ‘Tenure of Kings -and Magistrates.’ In the first part of this, he addresses himself to the -general question of tyrannicide, justifying it, first, by arguments of -general reason, and secondly, by the authority of the reformers. But in -the latter part he argues the case personally, contending that the -Presbyterians at least were not entitled to condemn the king’s death, -who, in levying war, and doing battle against the king’s person, had -done so much that tended to no other result. “If then,” is his argument, -“in these proceedings against their king, they may not finish, by the -usual course of justice, what they have begun, they could not lawfully -begin at all.” The argument seems inconclusive, even as addressed _ad -hominem_: the struggle bore the character of a war between independent -parties, rather than a judicial inquiry, and in war the life of a -prisoner becomes sacred. - -At this time the Council of State had resolved no longer to employ the -language of a rival people in their international concerns, but to use -the Latin tongue as a neutral and indifferent instrument. The office of -Latin Secretary, therefore, was created, and bestowed upon Milton. His -hours from henceforth must have been pretty well occupied by official -labours. Yet at this time he undertook a service to the state, more -invidious, and perhaps more perilous, than any in which his politics -ever involved him. On the very day of the king’s execution, and even -below the scaffold, had been sold the earliest copies of a work, -admirably fitted to shake the new government, and for the sensation -which it produced at the time, and the lasting controversy which it has -engendered, one of the most remarkable known in literary history. This -was the ‘Eikon Basilike, or Royal Image,’ professing to be a series of -meditations drawn up by the late king, on the leading events from the -very beginning of the national troubles. Appearing at this critical -moment, and co-operating with the strong reaction of the public mind, -already effected in the king’s favour by his violent death, this book -produced an impression absolutely unparalleled in any age. Fifty -thousand copies, it is asserted, were sold within one year; and a -posthumous power was thus given to the king’s name by one little book, -which exceeded, in alarm to his enemies, all that his armies could -accomplish in his lifetime. No remedy could meet the evil in degree. As -the only one that seemed fitted to it in kind, Milton drew up a running -commentary upon each separate head of the original: and as that had been -entitled the king’s image, he gave to his own the title of -‘Eikonoclastes, or Image-breaker,’ “the famous surname of many Greek -emperors, who broke all superstitious images in pieces.” - -This work was drawn up with the usual polemic ability of Milton; but by -its very plan and purpose, it threw him upon difficulties which no -ability could meet. It had that inevitable disadvantage which belongs to -all ministerial and secondary works: the order and choice of topics -being all determined by the Eikon, Milton, for the first time, wore an -air of constraint and servility, following a leader and obeying his -motions, as an engraver is controlled by the designer, or a translator -by his original. It is plain, from the pains he took to exonerate -himself from such a reproach, that he felt his task to be an invidious -one. The majesty of grief, expressing itself with Christian meekness, -and appealing, as it were from the grave, to the consciences of men, -could not be violated without a recoil of angry feeling, ruinous to the -effect of any logic, or rhetoric the most persuasive. The affliction of -a great prince, his solitude, his rigorous imprisonment, his constancy -to some purposes which were not selfish, his dignity of demeanour in the -midst of his heavy trials, and his truly Christian fortitude in his -final sufferings—these formed a rhetoric which made its way to all -hearts. Against such influences the eloquence of Greece would have been -vain. The nation was spell-bound; and a majority of its population -neither could or would be disenchanted. - -Milton was ere long called to plead the same great cause of liberty upon -an ampler stage, and before a more equitable audience; to plead not on -behalf of his party against the Presbyterians and Royalists, but on -behalf of his country against the insults of a hired Frenchman, and at -the bar of the whole Christian world. Charles II. had resolved to state -his father’s case to all Europe. This was natural, for very few people -on the continent knew what cause had brought his father to the block, or -why he himself was a vagrant exile from his throne. For his advocate he -selected Claudius Salmasius, and that was most injudicious. This man, -eminent among the scholars of the day, had some brilliant -accomplishments, which were useless in such a service, while in those -which were really indispensable, he was singularly deficient. He was -ignorant of the world, wanting in temper and self-command, conspicuously -unfurnished with eloquence, or the accomplishments of a good writer, and -not so much as master of a pure Latin style. Even as a scholar, he was -very unequal; he had committed more important blunders than any man of -his age, and being generally hated, had been more frequently exposed -than others to the harsh chastisements of men inferior to himself in -learning. Yet the most remarkable deficiency of all which Salmasius -betrayed, was in his entire ignorance, whether historical or -constitutional, of every thing which belonged to the case. - -Having such an antagonist, inferior to him in all possible -qualifications, whether of nature, of art, of situation, it may be -supposed that Milton’s triumph was absolute. He was now thoroughly -indemnified for the poor success of his ‘Eikonoclastes.’ In that -instance he had the mortification of knowing that all England read and -wept over the king’s book, whilst his own reply was scarcely heard of. -But here the tables were turned: the very friends of Salmasius -complained, that while his defence was rarely inquired after, the answer -to it, ‘Defensio pro Populo Anglicano,’ was the subject of conversation -from one end of Europe to the other. It was burnt publicly at Paris and -Toulouse: and by way of special annoyance to Salmasius, who lived in -Holland, was translated into Dutch. - -Salmasius died in 1653, before he could accomplish an answer that -satisfied himself: and the fragment which he left behind him was not -published, until it was no longer safe for Milton to rejoin. Meantime -others pressed forward against Milton in the same controversy, of whom -some were neglected, one was resigned to the pen of his nephew, Philips, -and one answered diffusely by himself. This was Du Moulin, or, as Milton -persisted in believing, Morus, a reformed minister then resident in -Holland, and at one time a friend of Salmasius. For two years after the -publication of this man’s book (Regii Sanguinis Clamor) Milton received -multiplied assurances from Holland that Morus was its true author. This -was not wonderful. Morus had corrected the press, had adopted the -principles and passions of the book, and perhaps at first had not been -displeased to find himself reputed the author. In reply, Milton -published his ‘Defensio Secunda pro Populo Anglicano,’ seasoned in every -page with some stinging allusions to Morus. All the circumstances of his -early life are recalled, and some were such as the grave divine would -willingly have concealed from the public eye. He endeavoured to avert -too late the storm of wit and satire about to burst on him, by denying -the work, and even revealing the author’s real name: but Milton -resolutely refused to make the slightest alteration. The true reason of -this probably was that the work was written so exclusively against -Morus, full of personal scandal, and puns and gibes upon his name, which -in Greek signifies foolish, that it would have been useless as an answer -to any other person. In Milton’s conduct on this occasion, there is a -want both of charity and candour. Personally, however, Morus had little -ground for complaint: he had bearded the lion by submitting to be -reputed the author of a work not his own. Morus replied, and Milton -closed the controversy by a defence of himself, in 1655. - -He had, indeed, about this time some domestic afflictions, which -reminded him of the frail tenure on which all human blessings were held, -and the necessity that he should now begin to concentrate his mind upon -the great works which he meditated. In 1651 his first wife died, after -she had given him three daughters. In that year he had already lost the -use of one eye, and was warned by the physicians that if he persisted in -his task of replying to Salmasius, he would probably lose the other. The -warning was soon accomplished, according to the common account, in 1654; -but upon collating his letter to Philaras the Athenian, with his own -pathetic statement in the Defensio Secunda, we are disposed to date it -from 1652. In 1655 he resigned his office of secretary, in which he had -latterly been obliged to use an assistant. - -Some time before this period, he had married his second wife, Catherine -Woodcock, to whom it is supposed that he was very tenderly attached. In -1657 she died in child-birth, together with her child, an event which he -has recorded in a very beautiful sonnet. This loss, added to his -blindness, must have made his home, for some years, desolate and -comfortless. Distress, indeed, was now gathering rapidly upon him. The -death of Cromwell in the following year, and the imbecile character of -his eldest son, held out an invitation to the aspiring intriguers of the -day, which they were not slow to improve. It soon became too evident to -Milton’s discernment, that all things were hurrying forward to -restoration of the ejected family. Sensible of the risk, therefore, and -without much hope, but obeying the summons of his conscience, he wrote a -short tract on the ready and easy way to establish a free commonwealth, -concluding with these noble words, “Thus much I should perhaps have -said, though I were sure I should have spoken only to trees and stones, -and had none to cry to, but with the Prophet, Oh earth! earth! earth! to -tell the very soil itself what her perverse inhabitants are deaf to. -Nay, though what I have spoken should happen [which Thou suffer not, who -didst create free, nor Thou next, who didst redeem us from being -servants of men] to be the last words of our expiring liberty.” A -slighter pamphlet on the same subject, ‘Brief Notes’ upon a sermon by -one Dr. Griffiths, must be supposed to be written rather with a -religious purpose of correcting a false application of sacred texts, -than with any great expectation of benefiting his party. Dr. Johnson, -with unseemly violence, says, that he kicked when he could strike no -longer: more justly it might be said that he held up a solitary hand of -protestation on behalf of that cause now in its expiring struggles, -which he had maintained when prosperous; and that he continued to the -last one uniform language, though he now believed resistance to be -hopeless, and knew it to be full of peril. - -That peril was soon realised. In the spring of 1660, the Restoration was -accomplished amidst the tumultuous rejoicings of the people. It was -certain that the vengeance of government would lose no time in marking -its victims; for some of them in anticipation had already fled. Milton -wisely withdrew from the first fury of the persecution, which now -descended on his party. He secreted himself in London, and when he -returned into the public eye in the winter, found himself no farther -punished, than by a general disqualification for the public service, and -the disgrace of a public burning inflicted on his Eikonoclastes, and his -Defensio pro Populo Anglicano. - -Apparently it was not long after this time that he married his third -wife, Elizabeth Minshul, a lady of good family in Cheshire. In what year -he began the composition of his ‘Paradise Lost,’ is not certainly known: -some have supposed in 1658. There is better ground for fixing the period -of its close. During the plague of 1665 he retired to Chalfont, and at -that time Elwood the quaker read the poem in a finished state. The -general interruption of business in London occasioned by the plague, and -prolonged by the great fire in 1666, explain why the publication was -delayed for nearly two years. The contract with the publisher is dated -April 26, 1667, and in the course of that year the Paradise Lost was -published. Originally it was printed in ten books: in the second, and -subsequent editions, the seventh and tenth books were each divided into -two. Milton received only five pounds in the first instance on the -publication of the book. His farther profits were regulated by the sale -of the three first editions. Each was to consist of fifteen hundred -copies, and on the second and third respectively reaching a sale of -thirteen hundred, he was to receive a farther sum of five pounds for -each; making a total of fifteen pounds. The receipt for the second sum -of five pounds is dated April 26, 1669. - -In 1670 Milton published his History of Britain, from the fabulous -period to the Norman conquest. And in the same year he published in one -volume Paradise Regained and Samson Agonistes. The Paradise Regained, it -has been currently asserted that Milton preferred to Paradise Lost. This -is not true; but he may have been justly offended by the false -principles on which some of his friends maintained a reasonable opinion. -The Paradise Regained is inferior by the necessity of its subject and -design. In the Paradise Lost Milton had a field properly adapted to a -poet’s purposes: a few hints in Scripture were expanded. Nothing was -altered, nothing absolutely added: but that, which was told in the -Scriptures in sum, or in its last results, was developed into its whole -succession of parts. Thus, for instance, “There was war in Heaven,” -furnished the matter for a whole book. Now for the latter poem, which -part of our Saviour’s life was it best to select as that in which -Paradise was Regained? He might have taken the Crucifixion, and here he -had a much wider field than in the Temptation; but then he was subject -to this dilemma. If he modified, or in any way altered, the full details -of the four Evangelists, he shocked the religious sense of all -Christians; yet, the purposes of a poet would often require that he -should so modify them. With a fine sense of this difficulty, he chose -the narrow basis of the Temptation in the Wilderness, because there the -whole had been wrapt up in Scripture in a few brief abstractions. Thus, -“He showed him all the kingdoms of the earth,” is expanded, without -offence to the nicest religious scruple, into that matchless succession -of pictures, which bring before us the learned glories of Athens, Rome -in her civil grandeur, and the barbaric splendour of Parthia. The actors -being only two, the action of Paradise Regained is unavoidably limited. -But in respect of composition, it is perhaps more elaborately finished -than Paradise Lost. - -In 1672 he published in Latin, a new scheme of Logic, on the method of -Ramus, in which Dr. Johnson suspects him to have meditated the very -eccentric crime of rebellion against the universities. Be that as it -may, this little book is in one view not without interest: all -scholastic systems of logic confound logic and metaphysics; and some of -Milton’s metaphysical doctrines, as the present Bishop of Winchester has -noticed, have a reference to the doctrines brought forward in his -posthumous Theology. The history of the last-named work is remarkable. -That such a treatise had existed, was well known, but it had -disappeared, and was supposed to be irrecoverably lost. But in the year -1823, a Latin manuscript was discovered in the State-Paper Office, under -circumstances which left little doubt of its being the identical work -which Milton was known to have composed; and this belief was -corroborated by internal evidence. By the King’s command, it was edited -by Mr. Sumner, the present Bishop of Winchester, and separately -published in a translation. The title is ‘De Doctrina Christiana, libri -duo posthumi’—A Treatise on Christian Doctrine, compiled from the Holy -Scriptures alone. In elegance of style, and sublimity of occasional -passages, it is decidedly inferior to other of his prose works. As a -system of theology, probably no denomination of Christians would be -inclined to bestow other than a very sparing praise upon it. Still it is -well worth the notice of those students, who are qualified to weigh the -opinions, and profit by the errors of such a writer, as being composed -with Milton’s usual originality of thought and inquiry, and as being -remarkable for the boldness with which he follows up his arguments to -their legitimate conclusion, however startling those conclusions may be. - -What he published after the scheme of logic, is not important enough to -merit a separate notice. His end was now approaching. In the summer of -1674 he was still cheerful, and in the possession of his intellectual -faculties. But the vigour of his bodily constitution had been silently -giving way, through a long course of years, to the ravages of gout. It -was at length thoroughly undermined: and about the tenth of November, -1674, he died with tranquillity so profound, that his attendants were -unable to determine the exact moment of his decease. He was buried, with -unusual marks of honour, in the chancel of St. Giles’ at Cripplegate. - -The published lives of Milton are very numerous. Among the best and most -copious are those prefixed to the editions of Milton’s works by Bishop -Newton, Todd, and Symmons. An article of considerable length, founded -upon the latter, will be found in Rees’s Cyclopædia. But the most -remarkable is that written by Dr. Johnson in his ‘Lives of the British -Poets;’ production grievously disfigured by prejudice, yet well -deserving the student’s attentions for its intrinsic merits, as well as -for the celebrity which it has attained. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by C. E. Wagstaff._ - - JAMES WATT. - - _From a Picture by Sir W. Beechey in the possession of J. Watt Esq. of - Aston Hall._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - WATT - - -Those who by cultivating the arts of peace have risen from obscurity to -fame and wealth, seldom leave to the biographer such ample memorials of -their private lives as he could wish to work upon. The details of a life -spent in the laboratory or in the workshop rarely present much variety; -or possess much interest, except when treated scientifically for the -benefit of the scientific reader. Such is the case with James Watt: the -history of his long and prosperous life is little more than the history -of his scientific pursuits; and this must plead our excuse if it chance -that the reader should here find less personal information about him -than he may desire. Fortunately his character has been sketched before -it was too late, by the masterly hand of one who knew him well. Most of -the accounts of him already published are said, by those best qualified -to judge, to be inaccurate. The same authority is pledged to the general -correctness of the article Watt, in the supplement to the Encyclopædia -Britannica, and from that article the facts of this short memoir are -taken. - -Both the grandfather and uncle of James Watt were men of some repute in -the West of Scotland, as mathematical teachers and surveyors. His father -was a merchant at Greenock, where Watt was born, June 19, 1736, and -where he received the rudiments of his education. Our knowledge of the -first twenty years of his life may be comprised in a few short -sentences. At an early age he manifested a partiality for the practical -part of mechanics, which he retained through life, taking pleasure in -the manual exercise of his early trade, even when hundreds of hands were -ready to do his bidding. In his eighteenth year he went to London, to -obtain instruction in the profession of a mathematical instrument-maker; -but he remained there little more than a year, being compelled to return -home by the precariousness of his health. - -In 1757, shortly after his return home, he was appointed -instrument-maker to the University of Glasgow, and accommodated with -premises within the precincts of that learned body. Robert Simpson, Adam -Smith, and Dr. Black, were then some of the professors; and from -communication with such men, Watt could not fail to derive the most -valuable mental discipline. With Dr. Black, and with John Robison, then -a student, afterwards eminent as a mathematician and natural -philosopher, he formed a friendship which was continued through life. In -1763 he removed into the town of Glasgow, intending to practise as a -civil engineer, and in the following year was married to his cousin Miss -Miller. - -In the winter of 1763–4, his mind was directed to the earnest -prosecution of those inventions which have made his name celebrated over -the world, by having to repair a working model of a steam-engine on -Newcomen’s construction, for the lectures of the Professor of Natural -Philosophy. In treating this subject, we must presume that the reader -possesses a competent acquaintance with the history and construction of -the steam-engine. Those who do not possess the requisite knowledge, will -find it briefly and clearly stated in a short treatise written by Mr. -Farey, and in many works of easy access. Newcomen’s engine, at the time -of which we speak, was of the last and most approved construction. The -moving power was the weight of the air pressing on the upper side of a -piston working in a cylinder; steam being employed at the termination of -each downward stroke to raise the piston with its load of air up again, -and then to form a vacuum by its condensation when cooled by a jet of -cold water, which was thrown into the cylinder when the admission of -steam was stopped. Upon repairing the model, Watt was struck by the -incapability of the boiler to produce a sufficient supply of steam, -though it was larger in proportion to the cylinder than was usual in -working engines. This arose from the nature of the cylinder, which being -made of brass, a better conductor of heat than cast-iron, and -presenting, in consequence of its small size, a much larger surface in -proportion to its solid content than the cylinders of working engines, -necessarily cooled faster between the strokes, and therefore at every -fresh admission consumed a greater proportionate quantity of steam. But -being made aware of a much greater consumption of steam than he had -imagined, he was not satisfied without a thorough inquiry into the -cause. With this view he made experiments upon the merits of boilers of -different constructions; on the effect of substituting a less perfect -conductor, as wood, for the material of the cylinder; on the quantity of -coal required to evaporate a given quantity of water; on the degree of -expansion of water in the shape of steam: and he constructed a boiler -which showed the quantity of water evaporated in a given time, and thus -enabled him to calculate the quantity of steam consumed at each stroke -of the engine. This proved to be several times the content of the -cylinder. He soon discovered that, whatever the size and construction of -the cylinder, an admission of hot steam into it must necessarily be -attended with very great waste, if, in condensing the steam previously -admitted, that vessel had been cooled down sufficiently to produce a -vacuum at all approaching to a perfect one. If, on the other hand, to -prevent this waste, he cooled it less thoroughly, a considerable -quantity of steam remained uncondensed within, and by its resistance -weakened the power of the descending stroke. These considerations -pointed out a vital defect in Newcomen’s construction: involving either -a loss of steam, and consequent waste of fuel, or a loss of power from -the piston’s descending at every stroke through a very imperfect vacuum. - -It soon occurred to Watt, that if the condensation were performed in a -separate vessel, one great evil, the cooling of the cylinder, and the -consequent waste of steam, would be avoided. The idea once started, he -soon verified it by experiment. By means of an arrangement of cocks, a -communication was opened between the cylinder, and a distinct vessel -exhausted of its air, at the moment when the former was filled with -steam. The vapour of course rushed to fill up the vacuum, and was there -condensed by the application of external cold, or by a jet of water: so -that fresh steam being continually drawn off from the cylinder to supply -the vacuum continually created, the density of that which remained might -be reduced within any assignable limits. This was the great and -fundamental improvement. - -Still, however, there was a radical defect in the atmospheric engine, -inasmuch as the air being admitted into the cylinder at every stroke, a -great deal of heat was abstracted, and a proportionate quantity of steam -wasted. To remedy this, Watt excluded the air from the cylinder -altogether; and recurred to the original plan of making steam the moving -power of the engine, not a mere agent to produce a vacuum. In removing -the difficulties of construction which beset this new plan, he displayed -great ingenuity and powers of resource. On the old plan, if the cylinder -was not bored quite true, or the piston not accurately fitted, a little -water poured upon the top rendered it perfectly air-tight, and the -leakage into the cylinder was of little consequence, so long as the -injection water was thrown into that vessel. But on the new plan, no -water could possibly be admitted within the cylinder; and it was -necessary, not merely that the piston should be air-tight, but that it -should work through an air-tight collar, that no portion of the steam -admitted above it might escape. This he accomplished by packing the -piston and the stuffing-box, as it is called, through which the -piston-rod works, with hemp. A farther improvement consisted in -equalizing the motion of the engine by admitting the steam alternately -above and below the piston, by which the power is doubled in the same -space, and with the same strength of material. The vacuum of the -condenser was perfected by adding a powerful pump, which at once drew -off the condensed, and injection water, and with it any portion of air -which might find admission; as this would interfere with the action of -the engine, if allowed to accumulate. His last great change was to cut -off the communication between the cylinder and the boiler, when a -portion only, as one-third or one-half, of the stroke was performed; -leaving it to the expansive power of the steam to complete it. By this, -economy of steam was obtained; together with the power of varying the -effort of the engine according to the work which it has to do, by -admitting the steam through a greater or smaller portion of the stroke. - -These are the chief improvements which Watt effected at different -periods of his life. Of the patient ingenuity by which they were -rendered complete, and the many beautiful contrivances by which he gave -to senseless matter an almost instinctive power of self-adjustment, with -precision of action more than belongs to any animated being, we cannot -speak; nor would it be easy to render description intelligible without -the help of diagrams. His first patent bears date June 5, 1769, so that -some time elapsed between the invention and publication of his -improvements. The delay arose partly from his own want of funds, and the -difficulty of finding a person possessed of capital, who could -appreciate the merit of his invention; partly from his own increasing -occupation as a civil engineer. In that capacity he soon acquired -reputation, and was employed in various works of importance. In 1767 he -made a survey for a canal, projected, but not executed, between the -Clyde and Forth. He also made the original survey for the Crinan Canal, -since carried into effect by Mr. Rennie; and was employed extensively in -forming harbours, deepening rivers, constructing bridges, and all the -most important labours of his profession. The last and greatest work of -this kind on which he was employed, was a survey for a canal between -Fort William and Inverness, where the Caledonian Canal now runs. - -At last Dr. Roebuck, the establisher of the Carron iron-works, became -Watt’s partner in the patent, upon condition that he should supply the -necessary funds for bringing out the invention, and receive in return -two-thirds of the profit. That gentleman, however, was unable to fulfil -his share of the contract, and in 1774 resigned his interest to Mr. -Boulton, the proprietor of the Soho works, near Birmingham. Watt then -determined to remove his residence to England; a step to which he -probably was rendered more favourable by the death of his wife in 1773. -In 1775, Parliament, in consideration of the national importance of Mr. -Watt’s inventions, and the difficulty and expense of introducing them to -public notice, prolonged the duration of his patent for twenty-five -years. - -The partners now erected engines for pumping water upon a large scale, -and it was found by comparative trials that the saving of fuel amounted -to three-fourths of the whole quantity consumed by the engines formerly -in use. This fact once established, the new machine was soon introduced -into the deep mines of Cornwall, where, of all places, its merits could -best be tried. The patentees were paid by receiving one-third of the -savings of fuel. From the time that the new value of their invention was -fully proved, Messrs. Boulton and Watt had to maintain a harassing -contest with numerous invaders of their patent rights; and it was not -until near the expiration of the patent in 1800, that the question was -definitively settled in their favour. These attacks, however, did not -prevent Watt from realizing an ample fortune, the well-earned reward of -his industry and ability, with which he established himself at -Heathfield, in the county of Stafford. - -At one period Watt devoted much attention to the construction of a -rotary engine, in which the power of the steam should be applied -directly to produce circular motion. Like all who have yet attempted to -solve this problem, he failed to obtain a satisfactory result; and -turned his attention in consequence to discover the best means of -converting reciprocal into rotary motion. For this purpose he originally -intended to use the crank; but having been forestalled by a neighbouring -manufacturer, who took out a patent for it, having obtained his -knowledge, as it is said, surreptitiously from one of Watt’s workmen, he -invented the combination called the sun and planet wheels. Afterwards he -recurred to the crank, without a shadow of opposition from the patentee. -He was also the author of that elegant contrivance, the parallel motion, -which superseded the old-fashioned beam and chain, and rendered possible -the introduction of the double engine, in which an upward, as well as a -downward force is applied. - -His attention, however, was not confined to the subject of steam. He -invented a copying machine, for which he took out a patent, in 1780. In -the winter of 1784–5, he erected an apparatus, the first of its kind, -for warming his apartments by steam. He also introduced into England the -method of bleaching with oxymuriatic acid, or chlorine, invented and -communicated to him for publication by his friend Berthollet. Towards -the conclusion of life, he constructed a machine for making fac-similes -of busts and other carved work; and also busied himself in forming a -composition for casts, possessing much of the transparency and hardness -of marble. - -With chemistry Watt was well acquainted. In 1782 he published a paper in -the Philosophical Transactions, entitled, ‘Thoughts on the constituent -parts of Water, and of Dephlogisticated Air.’ His only other literary -undertaking was the revision of Professor Robison’s articles on Steam -and Steam Engines, in the Encyclopædia Britannica, to which he added -notes containing an account of his own experiments on steam, and a -history of his improvements in the engine. - -About the year 1775 he married his second wife, Miss Macgregor. Though -his health had been delicate through life, yet he reached the advanced -age of eighty-four. He died at his house at Heathfield, August 25, 1819. -Chantrey made a bust of him some years before his death; from which the -same distinguished artist has since executed two marble statues, one for -his tomb, the other for the Hunterian Museum at Glasgow; and a third in -bronze, also for Glasgow, which has recently been erected there. It -represents Watt seated in deep thought, a pair of compasses in his hand, -and a scroll, on which is the draught of a steam-engine, open on his -knee. - -We cannot better close this account, than with a short extract from the -sketch of his character, to which we have alluded in a former page. -After speaking of the lasting celebrity which Watt has acquired by his -mechanical inventions, the author continues, that “to those to whom he -more immediately belonged, who lived in his society and enjoyed his -conversation, this is not, perhaps, the character in which he will be -most frequently recalled,—most deeply lamented,—or even most highly -admired. Independently of his great attainments in mechanics, Mr. Watt -was an extraordinary and in many respects a wonderful man. Perhaps no -individual in his age possessed so much and such varied and exact -information, had read so much, or remembered what he had read so -accurately and well. He had infinite quickness of apprehension, a -prodigious memory, and a certain rectifying and methodising power of -understanding, which extracted something precious out of all that was -presented to it. His stores of miscellaneous knowledge were immense, and -yet less astonishing than the command he had at all times over them. It -seemed as if every subject that was casually started in conversation -with him, had been that which he had been last occupied in studying and -exhausting; such was the copiousness, the precision, and the admirable -clearness of the information which he poured out upon it without effort -or hesitation. Nor was this promptitude and compass of knowledge -confined, in any degree, to the studies connected with his ordinary -pursuits. That he should have been minutely and extensively skilled in -chemistry and the arts, and in most of the branches of physical science, -might, perhaps, have been conjectured; but it could not have been -inferred from his usual occupations, and probably is not generally -known, that he was curiously learned in many branches of antiquity, -metaphysics, medicine, and etymology; and perfectly at home in all the -details of architecture, music, and law. He was well acquainted, too, -with most of the modern languages, and familiar with their most recent -literature. Nor was it at all extraordinary to hear the great -mechanician and engineer detailing and expounding, for hours together, -the metaphysical theories of the German logicians, or criticising the -measures or the matter of the German poetry. * * * - -“It is needless to say, that with those vast resources, his conversation -was at all times rich and instructive in no ordinary degree. But it was, -if possible, still more pleasing than wise, and had all the charms of -familiarity, with all the substantial treasures of knowledge. No man -could be more social in his spirit, less assuming or fastidious in his -manners, or more kind and indulgent towards all who approached him. -* * * His talk, too, though overflowing with information, had no -resemblance to lecturing, or solemn discoursing; but, on the contrary, -was full of colloquial spirit and pleasantry. He had a certain quiet and -grave humour, which ran through most of his conversation, and a vein of -temperate jocularity, which gave infinite zest and effect to the -condensed and inexhaustible information which formed its main staple and -characteristic. There was a little air of affected testiness, and a tone -of pretended rebuke and contradiction, which he used towards his younger -friends, that was always felt by them as an endearing mark of his -kindness and familiarity, and prized accordingly, far beyond all the -solemn compliments that ever proceeded from the lips of authority. His -voice was deep and powerful; though he commonly spoke in a low and -somewhat monotonous tone, which harmonized admirably with the weight and -brevity of his observations, and set off to the greatest advantage the -pleasant anecdotes which he delivered with the same grave tone, and the -same calm smile playing soberly on his lips. There was nothing of -effort, indeed, or of impatience, any more than of pride or levity, in -his demeanour; and there was a finer expression of reposing strength, -and mild self-possession in his manner, than we ever recollect to have -met with in any other person. He had in his character the utmost -abhorrence for all sorts of forwardness, parade, and pretension; and -indeed never failed to put all such impostors out of countenance, by the -manly plainness and honest intrepidity of his language and deportment. - -“He was twice married, but has left no issue but one son, long -associated with him in his business and studies, and two grandchildren -by a daughter who predeceased him. He was fellow of the Royal Societies -both of London and Edinburgh, and one of the few Englishmen who were -elected members of the National Institute of France. All men of learning -and of science were his cordial friends; and such was the influence of -his mild character, and perfect fairness and liberality, even upon the -pretender to these accomplishments, that he lived to disarm even envy -itself, and died, we verily believe, without a single enemy.” - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: - - Engraved by W. Holl. - - MARSHAL TURENNE. - - _From the original Picture by Latour, - in the collection of the Musée Royale, Paris._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - TURENNE - - -Henri de la Tour d’Auvergne, Vicomte de Turenne, born September 16th, -1611, was the second son of the Duc de Bouillon, prince of Sedan, and of -Elizabeth of Nassau, daughter of the celebrated William of Orange, to -whose courage and talents the Netherlands mainly owed their deliverance -from Spain. Both parents being zealous Calvinists, Turenne was of course -brought up in the same faith. Soon after his father’s death, the Duchess -sent him, when he was not yet thirteen years old, into the Low -Countries, to learn the art of war under his uncle, Maurice of Nassau, -who commanded the troops of Holland in the protracted struggle between -that country and Spain. Maurice held that there was no royal road to -military skill, and placed his young relation in the ranks, as a -volunteer, where for some time he served, enduring all hardships to -which the common soldiers were exposed. In his second campaign he was -promoted to the command of a company, which he retained for four years, -distinguished by the admirable discipline of his men, by unceasing -attention to the due performance of his own duty, and by his eagerness -to witness, and become thoroughly acquainted with, every branch of -service. In the year 1630, family circumstances rendered it expedient -that he should return to France, where the court received him with -distinction, and invested him with the command of a regiment. - -Four years elapsed before Turenne had an opportunity of distinguishing -himself in the service of his native country. His first laurels were -reaped in 1634, at the siege of the strong fortress of La Motte, in -Lorraine, where he headed the assault, and, by his skill and bravery, -mainly contributed to its success. For this exploit he was raised at the -early age of twenty-three to the rank of Marechal de Camp, the second -grade of military rank in France. In the following year, the breaking -out of war between France and Austria opened a wider field of action. -Turenne held a subordinate command in the army, which, under the -Cardinal de la Valette, marched into Germany to support the Swedes, -commanded by the Duke of Weimar. At first fortune smiled on the allies; -but, ere long, scarcity of provisions compelled them to a disastrous -retreat over a ruined country, in the face of the enemy. On this -occasion the young soldier’s ability and disinterestedness were equally -conspicuous. He sold his plate and equipage for the use of the army; -threw away his baggage to load the waggons with those stragglers who -must otherwise have been abandoned; and marched on foot, while he gave -up his own horse to the relief of one who had fallen, exhausted by -hunger and fatigue. These are the acts which win the attachment of -soldiers, and Turenne was idolized by his. - -Our limits will not allow of the relation of those campaigns in which -the subject of this memoir filled a subordinate part. In 1637–8 he again -served under La Valette, in Flanders and Germany, after which he was -made Lieutenant-General, a rank not previously existing in France. The -three following years he was employed in Italy and Savoy, and in 1642 -made a campaign in Roussillon, under the eye of Louis XIII. In the -spring of 1643, the King died; and in the autumn of the same year, -Turenne received from the Queen Mother and Regent, Anne of Austria, a -Marshal’s baton, the appropriate reward of his long and brilliant -services. Four years a captain, four a colonel, three Marechal de Camp, -five lieutenant-general, he had served in all stations from the ranks -upwards, and distinguished himself in them not only by military talent, -but by strict honour and trustworthiness, rare virtues in those -turbulent times when men were familiar with civil war, and the great -nobility were too powerful to be peaceful subjects. - -Soon after his promotion, he was sent to Germany, to collect and -reorganise the French army, which had been roughly handled at -Duttlingen. It wanted rest, men, and money, and he settled it in good -quarters, raised recruits, and pledged his own credit for the necessary -sums. The effects of his exertions were soon seen. He arrived in Alsace, -December, 1643, and in the following May was at the head of 10,000 men, -well armed and equipped, with whom he felt strong enough to attack the -Imperial army, and raise the siege of Fribourg. At that moment the glory -which he hoped and was entitled to obtain, as the reward of five months’ -labour, was snatched from him by the arrival of the celebrated Prince de -Condè, at that time Duc d’Enghien, to assume the command. The vexation -which Turenne must have felt was increased by the difference of age, for -the Prince was ten years his junior, and of personal character. Condè -was ardent and impetuous, and flushed by his brilliant victory at Rocroi -the year before; Turenne cool, calculating, and cautious, unwearied in -preparing a certainty of success beforehand, yet prompt in striking when -the decisive moment was come. The difference of their characters was -exemplified upon this occasion. Merci, the Austrian commander, had taken -up a strong position, which Turenne said could not be forced; but at the -same time pointed out the means of turning it. Condè differed from him, -and the second in command was obliged to submit. On two successive days -two bloody and unsuccessful assaults were made: on the third Turenne’s -advice was taken, and on the first demonstration of this change of plan -Merci retreated. In the following year, ill supplied with every thing, -and forced to separate his troops widely to obtain subsistence, he was -attacked at Mariendal, and worsted by his old antagonist Merci. This, -his first defeat, he felt severely: still he retained his position, and -was again ready to meet the enemy, when he received positive orders from -Mazarin to undertake nothing before the arrival of Condè. Zealous for -his country and careless of personal slights, he marched without -complaint under the command of his rival: and his magnanimity was -rewarded at the battle of Nordlingen, in 1645, where the centre and -right wing having failed in their attack, Turenne with the left wing -broke the enemy’s right, and falling on his centre in flank, threw it -into utter confusion. For this service he received the most cordial and -ample acknowledgments from Condè, both on the field, and in his -despatches to the Queen Regent. Soon after, Condè, who was wounded in -the battle, resigned his command into the hands of Turenne. The -following campaigns of 1646–7–8 exhibited a series of successes, by -means of which he drove the Duke of Bavaria from his dominions, and -reduced the Emperor to seek for peace. This was concluded at Munster in -1648, and to Turenne’s exertions the termination of the thirty years’ -war is mainly to be ascribed. - -The repose of France was soon broken by civil war. Mazarin’s -administration, oppressive in all respects, but especially in fiscal -matters, had produced no small discontent throughout the country, and -especially in Paris; where the parliament openly espoused the cause of -the people against the minister, and were joined by several of the -highest nobility, urged by various motives of private interest or -personal pique. Among these were the Prince of Conti, the Duc de -Longueville, and the Duc de Bouillon. Mazarin, in alarm, endeavoured to -enlist the ambition of Turenne in his favour, by offering the government -of Alsace, and the hand of his own niece, as the price of his adherence -to the court. The Viscount, pressed by both parties, avoided to declare -his adhesion to either: but he unequivocally expressed his -disapprobation of the Cardinal’s proceedings, and, being superseded in -his command, retired peaceably to Holland. There he remained till the -convention of Ruel effected a hollow and insincere reconciliation -between the court and one of the jarring parties of which the Fronde was -composed. That reconciliation was soon broken by the sudden arrest of -Condè, Conti, and the Duc de Longueville. Turenne then threw himself -into the arms of the Fronde; urged partly by indignation at this act of -violence, partly by a sympathy with the interests of his brother, the -Duc de Bouillon; but more, it is said, by a devoted attachment to the -Duchesse de Longueville, who turned the great soldier to her purposes, -and laughed at his passion. He sold his plate; the Duchess sold her -jewels: they concluded an alliance with Spain, and the Viscount was soon -at the head of an army. But the heterogeneous mass of Frenchmen, -Spaniards, and Germans, melted away during the first campaign; and -Turenne, at the head of eight thousand men, found himself obliged to -encounter the royal army, twenty thousand strong. In the battle which -ensued, he distinguished his personal bravery in several desperate -charges: but the disparity was too great; and this defeat of Rhetel was -of serious consequence to the Fronde party. Convinced at last that his -true interest lay rather on the side of the court, then managed by a -woman and a priest, where he might be supreme in military matters, than -in supporting the cause of an impetuous and self-willed leader, such as -Condè, Turenne gladly listened to overtures of accommodation, and passed -over to the support of the regency. His conduct in this war appears to -be the most objectionable part of a long and, for that age, singularly -honest life. The fault, however, seems to have been rather in espousing, -than in abandoning, the cause of the Fronde. Many of that party were -doubtless actuated by sincerely patriotic motives. Such, however, were -not the motives of Turenne, nor of the nobility to whom he attached -himself: and if, in returning to his allegiance, he followed the call of -interest as decidedly as he had followed the call of passion in -revolting, it was at least a recurrence to his former principle of -loyalty, from which, in after-life, he never swerved. - -The value of his services was soon made evident. Twice, at the head of -very inferior troops, he checked Condè in the career of victory: and -again compelled him to fight under the walls of Paris; where, in the -celebrated battle of the Faubourg St. Antoine, the Prince and his army -narrowly escaped destruction. Finally, he re-established the court at -Paris, and compelled Condè to quit the realm. These important events -took place in one campaign of six months, in 1652. - -In 1654 he again took the field against his former friend and commander, -Condè, who had taken refuge in Spain, and now led a foreign army against -his country. The most remarkable operation of the campaign was the -raising the siege of Arras; which the Spaniards had invested, according -to the most approved fashion of the day, with a strong double line of -circumvallation, within which the besieging army was supposed to be -securely sheltered against the sallies of the garrison cooped up within, -and the efforts of their friends from without. Turenne marched to the -relief of the place. This could only be effected by forcing the enemy’s -entrenchments; which were accordingly attacked, contrary to the opinion -of his own officers, and carried at all points, despite the personal -exertions of Condè. The Spaniards were forced to retreat. It is -remarkable that Turenne, not long after, was himself defeated in -precisely similar circumstances, under the walls of Valenciennes, round -which he had drawn lines of circumvallation. Once more he found himself -in the same position at Dunkirk. On this occasion he marched out of his -lines to meet the enemy, rather than wait, and suffer them to choose -their point of attack: and the celebrated battle of the Dunes or -Sandhills ensued, in which he gained a brilliant victory over the best -Spanish troops, with Condè at their head. This took place in 1657. -Dunkirk and the greater part of Flanders fell into the hands of the -French in consequence; and these successes led to the treaty of the -Pyrenees, which terminated the war in 1658. - -Turenne’s signal services were appreciated and rewarded by the entire -confidence both of the regency, and of Louis himself, after he attained -his majority and took the reins of state into his own hands. At the -King’s marriage, in 1660, he was created Marshal-General of the French -armies, with the significant words, “Il ne tient qu’a vous que ce soit -davantage.” The monarch is supposed to have meditated the revival of the -high dignity of Constable of France, which could not be held by a -Protestant. If this were so, it was a tempting bribe; but it failed. -Covetousness was no part of Turenne’s character; and for ambition, his -calm and strong mind could not but see that a dignity won by such -unworthy means would not elevate him in men’s eyes. We would willingly -attribute his conduct to a higher principle; but there is reason to -believe that henceforth he rather sought to be converted from the strict -tenets of Calvinism in which he had been brought up. It is at least -certain, from his correspondence, that about this time he applied -himself to theological studies, with which an imperfect education, and a -life spent in camps, had little familiarized him; and that in the year -1668 he solemnly renounced the Protestant church. However, he asked and -received nothing for himself, and was refused one trifling favour which -he requested for his nephew: and perhaps the most fair and probable -explanation of his conversion is, that his profession of Calvinism had -been habitual and nominal, not founded upon inquiry and conviction; and -that in becoming a convert to Catholicism, he had little to give up, -while his mind was strongly biassed in favour of the fashionable and -established creed. - -When war broke out afresh between France and Spain, in 1667, Louis XIV. -made his first campaign under Turenne’s guidance, and gained possession -of nearly the whole of Flanders. In 1672, when Louis resolved to -undertake in person the conquest of Holland, he again placed the -command, under himself, in Turenne’s hands, and disgraced several -marshals who refused to receive orders from the Viscount, considering -themselves his equals in military rank. How Le Grand Monarque forced the -passage of the Rhine when there was no army to oppose him, and conquered -city after city, till he was stopped by inundations, under the walls of -Amsterdam, has been said and sung by his flatterers; and need not be -repeated here. But after the King had left the army, when the Princes of -Germany came to the assistance of Holland, and her affairs took a more -favourable turn under the able guidance of the Prince of Orange, a wider -field was offered for the display of Turenne’s talents. In the campaign -of 1673 he drove the Elector of Brandenburg, who had come to the -assistance of the Dutch, back to Berlin, and compelled him to negotiate -for peace. In the same year he was opposed, for the first time, to the -Imperial General Montecuculi, celebrated for his military writings, as -well as for his exploits in the field. The meeting of these two great -generals produced no decisive results. - -Turenne returned to Paris in the winter, and was received with the most -flattering marks of favour. On the approach of spring, he was sent back -to take command of the French army in Alsace, which, amounting to no -more than ten thousand men, was pressed by a powerful confederation of -the troops of the empire, and those of Brandenburg, once again in the -field. Turenne set himself to beat the allies in detail, before they -could form a junction. He passed the Rhine, marched forty French leagues -in four days, and came up with the Imperialists, under the Duke of -Lorraine, at Sintzheim. They occupied a strong position, their wings -resting on mountains; their centre protected by a river and a fortified -town. Turenne hesitated: it seemed rash to attack; but a victory was -needful before the combination of the two armies should render their -force irresistible, and he commanded the best troops of France. The -event justified his confidence. Every post was carried sword in hand. -The Marshal had his horse killed under him, and was slightly wounded. To -the officers, who crowded round him with congratulations, he replied, -with one of those short and happy speeches which tell upon an army more -than the most laboured harangues, “With troops like you, gentlemen, a -man ought to attack boldly, for he is sure to conquer.” The beaten army -fell back behind the Neckar, where they effected a junction with the -troops of Brandenburg: but they dared attempt nothing further, and left -the Palatinate in the quiet possession of Turenne. Under his eye, and, -as it appears from his own letters, at his express recommendation, as a -matter of policy, that wretched country was laid waste to a deplorable -extent. This transaction went far beyond the ordinary license of war, -and excited general indignation even in that unscrupulous age. It will -ever be remembered as a foul stain upon the character of the general who -executed, and of the king and minister who ordered or consented to it. - -Having carried fire and sword through that part of the Palatinate which -lay upon the right or German bank of the Rhine, he crossed that river. -But the Imperial troops, reinforced by the Saxons and Hessians to the -amount of sixty thousand men, pressed him hard: and it seemed impossible -to keep the field against so great a disparity of force; his own troops -not amounting to more than twenty thousand. He retreated into Lorraine, -abandoning the fertile plains of Alsace to the enemy, led his army -behind the Vosges mountains, and crossing them by unfrequented routes, -surprised the enemy at Colmar, beat him at Mulhausen and Turkheim, and -forced him to recross the Rhine. This is esteemed the most brilliant of -Turenne’s campaigns, and it was conceived and conducted with the greater -boldness, being in opposition to the orders of Louvois. “I know,” he -wrote to that minister, in remonstrating, and indeed refusing to follow -his directions, “I know the strength of the Imperialists, their -generals, and the country in which we are. I take all upon myself, and -charge myself with whatever may occur.” - -Returning to Paris at the end of the campaign, his journey through -France resembled a triumphal progress; such was the popular enthusiasm -in his favour. Not less flattering was his reception by the King, whose -undeviating regard and confidence, undimmed by jealousy or envy, is -creditable alike to the monarch and to his faithful subject. At this -time Turenne, it is said, had serious thoughts of retiring to a convent, -and was induced only by the earnest remonstrances of the King, and his -representations of the critical state of France, to resume his command. -Returning to the Upper Rhine, he was again opposed to Montecuculi. For -two months the resources and well-matched skill of the rival captains -were displayed in a series of marches and counter-marches, in which -every movement was so well foreseen and guarded against, that no -opportunity occurred for coming to action with advantage to either side. -At last the art of Turenne appeared to prevail; when, not many minutes -after he had expressed the full belief that victory was in his grasp, a -cannon-ball struck him while engaged in reconnoitring the enemy’s -position, previous to giving battle, and he fell dead from his horse, -July 27th, 1675. The same shot carried off the arm of St. Hilaire, -commander-in-chief of the artillery. “Weep not for me,” said the brave -soldier to his son, “it is for that great man that we ought to weep.” - -His subordinates possessed neither the talents requisite to follow up -his plans, nor the confidence of the troops, who perceived their -hesitation, and were eager to avenge the death of their beloved general. -“Loose the piebald,” so they named Turenne’s horse, was the cry; “he -will lead us on.” But those on whom the command devolved thought of -nothing less than of attacking the enemy; and after holding a hurried -council of war, retreated in all haste across the Rhine. - -The Swabian peasants let the spot where he fell lie fallow for many -years, and carefully preserved a tree under which he had been sitting -just before. Strange that the people who had suffered so much at his -hands, should regard his memory with such respect. - -The character of Turenne was more remarkable for solidity than for -brilliancy. Many generals may have been better qualified to complete a -campaign by one decisive blow; few probably have laid the scheme of a -campaign with more judgment, or shown more skill and patience in -carrying their plans into effect. And it is remarkable that, contrary to -general experience, he became much more enterprising in advanced years -than he had been in youth. Of that impetuous spirit, which sometimes -carries men to success where caution would have hesitated and failed, he -possessed little. In his earlier years he seldom ventured to give -battle, except where victory was nearly certain: but a course of victory -inspired confidence, and trained by long practice to distinguish the -difficult from the impossible, he adopted in his later campaigns a -bolder style of tactics than had seemed congenial to his original -temper. In this respect he offered a remarkable contrast to his rival in -fame, Condè, who, celebrated in early life for the headlong valour, even -to rashness, of his enterprises, became in old age prudent almost to -timidity. Equally calm in success or in defeat, Turenne was always ready -to prosecute the one, or to repair the other. And he carried the same -temper into private life, where he was distinguished for the dignity -with which he avoided quarrels, under circumstances in which lesser men -would have found it hard to do so, without incurring the reproach of -cowardice. Nor must we pass over his thorough honesty and -disinterestedness in pecuniary matters; a quality more rare in a great -man then than it is now. - -In 1653 he married the daughter of the Duc de la Force. She died in -1666, without leaving children. - -Turenne composed memoirs of his own life, which are published in the -Life of him by the Chevalier Ramsay. There is also a collection of his -Military Maxims, by Captain Williamson. In 1782 Grimoard published his -‘Collection des Memoirs du Marechal de Turenne.’ Deschamps, an officer -who served under him, wrote a full account of his two last campaigns; -and the history of his four last campaigns has been published under the -name of Beaurain. We may also refer the reader for the history of these -times to Voltaire, Siècle de Louis XIV. - -[Illustration: French Cavalier of the seventeenth century.] - - - - -[Illustration] - - BOYLE - - -This excellent and accomplished person was one of those who do honour to -high birth and ample fortune, by employing them, not as the means of -selfish gratification or personal aggrandisement, but in the furtherance -of every useful pursuit, and every benevolent purpose. By the lover of -science he is honoured as one of the first and most successful -cultivators of experimental philosophy; to the Christian his memory is -endeared, as that of one, who, in the most licentious period of English -history, showed a rare example of religion and virtue in exalted -station, and was an early and zealous promoter of the diffusion of the -Scriptures in foreign lands. - -Robert Boyle was the youngest son but one of a statesman eminent in the -successive reigns of Elizabeth, and the first James and Charles; and -well known in Ireland by the honourable title of the Great Earl of Cork. -He has left an unfinished sketch of his own early life, in which he -assumes the name of Philaretus, a lover of virtue; and speaks of his -childhood as characterized by two things, a more than usual inclination -to study, and a rigid observance of truth in all things. He was born in -Ireland, January 25, 1626–7. In his ninth year he was sent, with his -elder brother Francis, to Eton, where he spent between three and four -years: in the early part of which, under the guidance of an able and -judicious tutor, he made great progress both in the acquisition of -knowledge, and in forming habits of accurate and diligent inquiry. But -his studies were interrupted by a severe ague; and while recovering from -that disorder he contracted a habit of desultory reading, which it -afterwards cost him some pains to conquer by a laborious course of -mathematical calculations. During his abode at Eton several remarkable -escapes from imminent peril occurred to him, upon which, in after-life, -he looked back with reverential gratitude, and with the full conviction -that the direct hand of an overruling providence was to be traced in -them. - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by R. Woodman._ - - ROBERT BOYLE. - - _From an original Picture, in the possession of Lord Dover._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - -Towards the close of 1637, as it should seem, his father, who had -purchased the manor of Stalbridge, in Dorsetshire, took him home. In -October, 1638, he was sent abroad, under the charge of a governor, with -his brother Francis. They visited France, Switzerland, and Italy; and -Philaretus’s narrative of his travels is not without interest. The only -incident which we shall mention as occurring during this period, is one -which may be thought by many scarcely worthy of notice. Boyle himself -used to speak of it as the most considerable accident of his whole life; -and for its influence upon his life it ought not to be omitted. While -staying at Geneva, he was waked in the night by a thunder-storm of -remarkable violence. Taken unprepared and startled, it struck him that -the day of judgment was at hand; “whereupon,” to use his own words, “the -consideration of his unpreparedness to welcome it, and the hideousness -of being surprised by it in an unfit condition, made him resolve and -vow, that if his fears that night were disappointed, all further -additions to his life should be more religiously and watchfully -employed.” He has been spoken of as being a sceptic before this sudden -conversion. This does not appear from his own account, farther than as -any boy of fourteen may be so called, who has never taken the trouble -fully to convince himself of those truths which he professes to believe. -On the breaking out of the rebellion in 1642, the troubled state of -England, and the death of the Earl of Cork, involved the brothers in -considerable pecuniary difficulties. They returned to England in 1644, -and Robert, after a short delay, took possession of the manor of -Stalbridge, which, with a considerable property in Ireland, had been -bequeathed to him by his father. By the interest of his brother and -sister, Lord Broghill and Lady Ranelagh, who were on good terms with the -ruling party, he obtained protections for his property, and for the next -six years made Stalbridge his principal abode. This portion of his life -was chiefly spent in the study of ethical and natural philosophy; and -his name began already to be respected among the men of science of the -day. - -In 1652 he went to Ireland to look after his property, and spent the -greater part of the next two years there. Returning to England in 1654, -he settled at Oxford. That which especially directed him to this place, -besides its being generally suited to the prosecution of all his -literary and philosophical pursuits, was the presence of that knot of -learned men, from whom the Royal Society took its rise. It consisted of -a few only, but those eminent; Bishop Wilkins, Wallis, Ward, Wren, and -others, who used to meet for the purpose of conferring upon -philosophical subjects, and mutually communicating and reasoning on -their respective experiments and discoveries. - -At the restoration, Boyle was treated with great respect by the King; -and was strongly pressed to enter the church by Lord Clarendon, who -thought that his high birth, eminent learning, and exemplary character -might be of material service to the revived establishment. After serious -consideration he declined the proposal, upon two accounts, as he told -Burnet; first, because he thought that while he performed no -ecclesiastical duties, and received no pay, his testimony in favour of -religion would carry more weight; secondly, because he felt no especial -vocation to take holy orders, which he considered indispensable to the -proper entering into that service. - -From this time forwards, Boyle’s life is not much more than the history -of his works. It passed in an even current of tranquil happiness, and -diligent employment, little broken, except by illness, from which he was -a great sufferer. At an early age, he was attacked by the stone, and -continued through life subject to paroxysms of that dreadful disease: -and in 1670, he was afflicted with a severe paralytic complaint, from -which he fortunately recovered without sustaining any mental injury. On -the incorporation of the Royal Society in 1663, he was named as one of -the council, in the charter; and as he had been one of the original -members, so through his life he continued to publish his shorter -treatises in their Transactions. In 1662 he was appointed by the King, -Governor of the Corporation for propagating the Gospel in New England. -The diffusion of Christianity was a favourite subject of exertion with -him through life. For the sole purpose of exerting a more effectual -influence in introducing it into India, he became a Director of the East -India Company; and, at his own expense, caused the Gospels and Acts to -be translated into Malay, and five hundred copies to be printed and sent -abroad. He also caused a translation of the Bible into Irish to be made -and published, at an expense of £700; and bore great part of the expense -of a similar undertaking in the Welsh language. To other works of the -same sort he was a liberal contributor: and as in speech and writing he -was a zealous, yet temperate advocate of religion, so he showed his -sincerity by a ready extension of his ample funds to all objects which -tended to promote the religious welfare of his fellow-creatures. - -In the year 1666 he took up his abode in London, where he continued -for the remainder of his life. We have little more to state of his -personal history. He was elected President of the Royal Society in -1680, but declined that well-earned honour, as having, in his own -words, “a great (and perhaps peculiar) tenderness in point of oaths.” -In the course of 1688 he began to feel his strength decline, and set -himself seriously to complete those of his undertakings which he -judged most important, and to arrange such of his papers as required -to be prepared for publication. It gives us rather a curious notion of -the scientific morality of the day, to learn that he had been a great -sufferer by the stealing of his papers. Such at least was his own -belief, hinted in a public advertisement, and expressed more fully in -his private communications. His manuscript books disappeared in an -incomprehensible way, insomuch that he resolved to write upon loose -sheets of paper, “that the ignorance of the coherence might keep men -from thinking them worth stealing.” Notwithstanding he complains of -numerous losses, and expresses a determination to secure the -“remaining part of his writings, especially those that contain most -matters of fact, by sending them maimed and unfinished, as they come -to hand, to the press.” A still more serious loss occurred to him -through the carelessness of a servant, who broke a bottle of vitriol -over a box of manuscripts prepared for publication, by which a large -part of them were utterly ruined. To these misfortunes, the -non-appearance of many promised works, and the imperfect state of -others, is to be ascribed. During the years 1689–90, he gradually -withdrew himself more and more from his other employments, and from -the claims of society, to devote himself entirely to the preparation -of his papers. He died, unmarried, December 31, 1691, aged sixty-five -years, and was buried in the chancel of St. Martin’s-in-the-fields. - -To give merely the dates and titles of Boyle’s several publications, -would occupy several pages. They are collected in five volumes folio, by -Dr. Birch, and amount in number to ninety-seven. The philosophical works -have been abridged in three volumes quarto by Dr. Shaw, who has prefixed -to his edition a character of the author, and of his works. From 1660 to -the end of his life, every year brought fresh evidence of his close -application to science, and the versatility of his talents, and the -extent of his knowledge. His attention was directed to chemistry, -mathematics, mechanics, medicine, anatomy; but more especially to the -former, in its many branches: and though he is not altogether free from -the reproach of credulity, and appears not to have entirely freed -himself from the delusions of the alchymists, still he did more towards -overthrowing their mischievous doctrines, and establishing his favourite -science on a firm foundation, than any man; and his indefatigable -diligence in inquiry, and unquestioned honesty of relation, entitle him -to a very high place among the fathers of modern chemistry. On this -point we may quote the testimony of the celebrated Boerhaave, -(Chemistry, vol. i. p. 55,) who says, that among the writers who have -treated of Chemistry with a view to natural philosophy and medicine, we -may reckon among the chief, the Hon. Robert Boyle. Redi also, in his -‘Experimenta Naturalia,’ affirms that in experimental philosophy there -never was any man so distinguished, and that perhaps there never will be -his equal in discovering natural causes. - -It is, however, as the father of pneumatic philosophy that his -scientific fame is most securely based. To the invention of the air-pump -he possesses no claim, an instrument of that sort having been exhibited -in 1654 by Otto Guericke of Magdeburg: but his improvements, and his -well-combined and ingenious experiments first made that instrument of -value, and proved the elasticity of the air. These were given to the -world in his first published, and perhaps his most important work, -entitled, ‘New Experiments upon the Spring of the Air.’ - -A considerable portion of Boyle’s works is occupied by religious -treatises. Two of these, ‘Seraphic Love,’ and a ‘Free Discourse against -Swearing,’ were written before he had reached the age of twenty; though -not published for many years after. He established by his will an annual -lecture, “in proof of the Christian religion against notorious -infidels.” Bentley was the first preacher on this foundation. - -Boyle’s funeral sermon was preached by Bishop Burnet, who had been under -some obligation to him for assistance in publishing his History of the -Reformation. The sermon has been considered one of Burnet’s best; and it -has this advantage, that funeral panegyric has seldom been more -sincerely and honestly bestowed. We conclude by quoting one or two -passages, which illustrate the beauty of Boyle’s private character. “He -had brought his mind to such a freedom that he was not apt to be imposed -on; and his modesty was such that he did not dictate to others; but -proposed his own sense with a due and decent distrust, and was ever very -ready to hearken to what was suggested to him by others. When he -differed from any, he expressed himself in so humble and obliging a way -that he never treated things or persons with neglect, and I never heard -that he offended any one person in his whole life by any part of his -demeanour. For if at any time he saw cause to speak roundly to any, it -was never in passion, or with any reproachful or indecent expressions. -And as he was careful to give those who conversed with him no cause or -colour for displeasure, he was yet more careful of those who were -absent, never to speak ill of any, in which he was the exactest man I -ever knew. If the discourse turned to be hard on any, he was presently -silent; and if the subject was too long dwelt on, he would at last -interpose, and, between reproof and raillery, divert it. - -“He was exactly civil, even to ceremony, and though he felt his easiness -of access, and the desires of many, all strangers in particular, to be -much with him, made great waste of his time; yet, as he was severe in -that, not to be denied when he was at home, so he said he knew the heart -of a stranger, and how much eased his own had been, while travelling, if -admitted to the conversation of those he desired to see; therefore he -thought his obligation to strangers was more than bare civility; it was -a piece of religious charity in him. - -“He had, for almost forty years, laboured under such a feebleness of -body, and such lowness of strength and spirits, that it will appear a -surprising thing to imagine how it was possible for him to read, to -meditate, to try experiments, and write as he did. He bore all his -infirmities, and some sharp pains, with the decency and submission that -became a Christian and philosopher. He had about him all that unaffected -neglect of pomp in clothes, lodging, furniture, and equipage, which -agreed with his grave and serious course of life. He was advised to a -very ungrateful simplicity of diet, which, by all appearance, was that -which preserved him so long beyond all men’s expectation. This he -observed so strictly, that in the course of above thirty years he -neither ate nor drank to gratify the varieties of appetite, but merely -to support nature; and was so regular in it, that he never once -transgressed the rule, measure and kind that were prescribed him. * * * - -“His knowledge was of so vast an extent, that were it not for the -variety of vouchers in their several sort, I should be afraid to say all -I know. He carried the study of Hebrew very far into the Rabbinical -writings and the other Oriental languages. He had read so much out of -the Fathers, that he had formed out of it a clear judgment of all the -eminent ones. He had read a vast deal on the Scriptures, and had gone -very nicely through the whole controversies on religion, and was a true -master of the whole body of divinity. He read the whole compass of the -mathematical sciences; and though he did not set himself to spring any -new game, yet he knew even the abstrusest parts of geometry. Geography, -in the several parts of it that related to navigation or travelling, -history, and books of travels, were his diversions. He went very nicely -through all the parts of physic; only the tenderness of his nature made -him less able to endure the exactness of anatomical dissections, -especially of living animals, though he knew them to be most -instructive. But for the history of nature, ancient or modern, of the -productions of all countries, of the virtues and improvements of plants, -of ores and minerals, and all the varieties that are in them in -different climates, he was by much, by very much, the readiest and -perfectest I ever knew, in the greatest compass, and with the truest -exactness. This put him in the way of making that vast variety of -experiments, beyond any man, as far as we know, that ever lived. And in -these, as he made a great progress in new discoveries, so he used so -nice a strictness, and delivered them with so scrupulous a truth, that -all who have examined them, may find how safely the world may depend -upon them. But his peculiar and favourite study was chemistry, in which -he engaged with none of those ravenous and ambitious designs that draw -many into them. His design was only to find out Nature, to see into what -principles things might be resolved, and of what they were compounded, -and to prepare good medicaments for the bodies of men. He spent neither -his time nor his fortune upon the vain pursuits of high promises and -pretensions. He always kept himself within the compass that his estate -might well bear. And as he made chemistry much the better for his -dealing with it, so he never made himself either the worse, or the -poorer for it.” - -It would be easy to multiply testimonies of the high reputation in which -Boyle was held: indeed the reader will find numerous instances collected -in the article Boyle, in Dr. Kippis’s Biographia Britannica, the perusal -of which will amply gratify the reader’s curiosity. Still more detailed -accounts of Boyle’s life and character will be found in other works to -which we have already referred, especially in Dr. Birch’s Life. - -[Illustration: Air-Pump.] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by E. Scriven._ - - SIR ISAAC NEWTON. - - _From the original Picture by Vanderbank in the possession of the - Royal Society._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - NEWTON - - -Isaac Newton was born on Christmas-day, 1642 (O. S.), at Woolsthorpe, a -hamlet in the parish of Colsterworth, in Lincolnshire. In that spot his -family had possessed a small estate for more than a hundred years; and -his father died there a few months after his marriage to Harriet -Ayscough, and before the birth of his son. The widow soon married again, -and removed to North Witham, the rectory of her second husband, Mr. -Smith, leaving her son, a weakly child who had not been expected to live -through the earliest infancy, under the charge of her mother. - -Newton’s education was commenced at the parish school, and at the age of -twelve he was sent to Grantham for classical instruction. At first he -was idle, but soon rose to the head of the school. The peculiar bent of -his mind soon showed itself in his recreations. He was fond of drawing, -and sometimes wrote verses; but he chiefly amused himself with -mechanical contrivances. Among these was a model of a wind-mill, turned -either by the wind, or by a mouse enclosed in it, which he called the -miller; a mechanical carriage moved by the person who sat in it; and a -water-clock, which was long used in the family of Mr. Clarke, an -apothecary, with whom he boarded at Grantham. This was not his only -method of measuring time: the house at Woolsthorpe, whither he returned -at the age of fifteen, still contains dials made by him during his -residence there. - -Mr. Smith died in 1656, and his widow then returned to Woolsthorpe with -her three children by her second marriage. She brought Newton himself -also thither, in the hope that he might be useful in the management of -the farm. This expectation was fortunately disappointed. When sent to -Grantham on business, he used to leave its execution to the servant who -accompanied him, and passed his time in reading, sometimes by the -way-side, sometimes at the house of Mr. Clark. His mother no longer -opposed the evident tendency of his disposition. He returned to school -at Grantham, and was removed thence in his eighteenth year to Trinity -College, Cambridge. - -The 5th of June, 1660, was the day of his admission as a sizer into that -distinguished society. He applied himself eagerly to the study of -mathematics, and mastered its difficulties with an ease and rapidity -which he was afterwards inclined almost to regret, from an opinion that -a closer attention to its elementary parts would have improved the -elegance of his own methods of demonstration. In 1664 he became a -scholar of his college, and in 1667 was elected to a fellowship, which -he retained beyond the regular time of its expiration in 1675, by a -special dispensation authorizing him to hold it without taking orders. - -It is necessary to return to an earlier date, to trace the series of -Newton’s discoveries. This is not the occasion for a minute enumeration -of them, or for any elaborate discussion of their value or explanation -of their principles; but their history and succession require some -notice. The earliest appear to have related to pure mathematics. The -study of Dr. Wallis’s works led him to investigate certain properties of -series, and this course of research soon conducted him to the celebrated -Binomial Theorem. The exact date of his invention of the method of -Fluxions is not known; but it was anterior to 1666, when the breaking -out of the plague obliged him for a time to quit Cambridge, and -consequently when he was only about twenty-three years old. - -This change of residence interrupted his optical researches, in which he -had already laid the foundation of his great discoveries. He had -decomposed light into the coloured rays of which it is compounded, and -having thus ascertained the principal cause of the confusion of the -images formed by refraction, he had turned his attention to the -construction of telescopes which should act by reflection, and be free -from this evil. He had not, however, overcome the practical difficulties -of his undertaking, when his retreat from Cambridge for a time stopped -this train of experiment and invention. - -On quitting Cambridge Newton retired to Woolsthorpe, where his mind was -principally employed upon the system of the world. The theory of -Copernicus and the discoveries of Galileo and Kepler had at length -furnished the materials from which the true system was to be deduced. It -was indeed all involved in Kepler’s celebrated laws. The equable -description of areas proved the existence of a central force; the -elliptical form of the planetary orbits, and the relation between their -magnitude and the time occupied in describing them, ascertained the law -of its variation. But no one had arisen to demonstrate these necessary -consequences, or even to conjecture the universal principle from which -they were derived. The existence of a central force had been surmised, -and the law of its action guessed at; but no proof had been given of -either, and little attention had been awakened by the conjecture. - -Newton’s discovery appears to have been quite independent of any -speculations of his predecessors. The circumstances attending it are -well known: the very spot in which it first dawned upon him is -ascertained. He was sitting in the garden at Woolsthorpe, when the fall -of an apple called his attention to the force which caused its descent, -to the probable limits of its action and law of its operation. Its power -was not sensibly diminished at any distance at which experiments had -been made: might it not then extend to the moon and guide that luminary -in her orbit? It was certain that her motion was regulated in the same -manner as that of the planets round the sun: if, therefore, the law of -the sun’s action could be ascertained, that by which the earth acted -would also be found by analogy. Newton, therefore, proceeded to -ascertain by calculation from the known elements of the planetary -orbits, the law of the sun’s action. The great experiment remained: the -trial whether the moon’s motions showed the force acting upon her to -correspond with the theoretical amount of terrestrial gravity at her -distance. The result was disappointment. The trial was to be made by -ascertaining the exact space by which the earth’s action turned the moon -aside from her course in a given time. This depended on her actual -distance from the earth, which was only known by comparison with the -earth’s diameter. The received estimate of that quantity was very -erroneous; it proceeded on the supposition that a degree of latitude was -only sixty English miles, nearly a seventh part less than its actual -length. The calculation of the moon’s distance and of the space -described by her, gave results involved in the same proportion of error; -and thus the space actually described appeared to be a seventh part less -than that which corresponded to the theory. It was not Newton’s habit to -force the results of experiments into conformity with hypothesis. He -could not, indeed, abandon his leading idea, which rested, in the case -of the planetary motions, on something very nearly amounting to -demonstration. But it seemed that some modification was required before -it could be applied to the moon’s motion, and no satisfactory solution -of the difficulty occurred. The scheme therefore was incomplete, and, in -conformity with his constant habit of producing nothing till it was -fully matured, Newton kept it undivulged for many years. - -On his return to Cambridge Newton again applied himself to the -construction of reflecting telescopes, and succeeded in effecting it in -1668. In the following year Dr. Barrow resigned in his favour the -Lucasian professorship of mathematics, which Newton continued to hold -till the year 1703, when Whiston, who had been his deputy from 1699, -succeeded him in the chair. On January 11, 1672, Newton was elected a -Fellow of the Royal Society. He was then best known by the invention of -the reflecting telescope; but immediately on his election he -communicated to the Society the particulars of his theory of light, on -which he had already delivered three courses of lectures at Cambridge, -and they were shortly afterwards published in the Philosophical -Transactions. - -It is impossible here to state the various phenomena of light and -colours which were first detected and explained by Newton. They entirely -changed the science of optics, and every advance which has since been -made in it has only added to the importance and confirmed the value of -his observations. The success of the new theory was complete. Newton, -however, was much vexed and harassed by the discussions which it -occasioned. The annoyance which he thus experienced made him even think -of abandoning the pursuit of science, and although it failed to withdraw -him from the studies to which he was devoted, it confirmed him in his -unwillingness to publish their results. - -The next few years of Newton’s life were not marked by any remarkable -events. They were passed almost entirely at Cambridge, in the -prosecution of the researches in which he was engaged. The most -important incident was the communication to Oldenburgh, and, through -him, to Leibnitz, that he possessed a method of determining maxima and -minima, of drawing tangents, and performing other difficult mathematical -operations. This was the method of fluxions, but he did not announce its -name or its processes. Leibnitz, in return, explained to him the -principles and processes of the Differential Calculus. This -correspondence took place in the years 1676 and 1677: but the method of -fluxions had been communicated to Barrow and Collins as early as 1669, -in a tract, first printed in 1711, under the title ‘Analysis per -equationes numero terminorum infinitas.’ Newton had indeed intended to -publish his discovery as an introduction to an edition of Kinckhuysen’s -Algebra, which he undertook to prepare in 1672; but the fear of -controversy prevented him, and the method of fluxions was not publicly -announced till the appearance of the Principia in 1687. The edition of -Kinckhuysen’s treatise did not appear; but the same year, 1672, was -marked by Newton’s editing the Geography of Varenius. - -In 1679 Newton’s attention was again called to the theory of -gravitation, and by a fuller investigation of the conditions of -elliptical motion, he was confirmed in the opinion that the phenomena of -the planets were referable to an attractive force in the sun, of which -the intensity varied in the inverse proportion of the square of the -distance. The difficulty about the amount of the moon’s motion remained, -but it was shortly to be removed. In 1679 Picard effected a new -measurement of a degree of the earth’s surface, and Newton heard of the -result at a meeting of the Royal Society in June, 1682. He immediately -returned home to repeat his former calculation with these new data. -Every step of the process made it more probable that the discrepance -which had so long perplexed him would wholly disappear: and so great was -his excitement at the prospect of entire success that he was unable to -proceed with the calculation, and intrusted its completion to a friend. -The triumph was perfect, and he found the theory of his youth sufficient -to explain all the great phenomena of nature. - -From this time Newton devoted unremitting attention to the development -of his system, and a period of nearly two years was entirely absorbed by -it. In 1684 the outline of the mighty work was finished; yet it is -likely that it would still have remained unknown, had not Halley, who -was himself on the track of some part of the discovery, gone to -Cambridge in August of that year to consult Newton about some -difficulties he had met with. Newton communicated to him a treatise De -Motu Corporum, which afterwards, with some additions, formed the first -two books of the Principia. Even then Halley found it difficult to -persuade him to communicate the treatise to the Royal Society, but he -finally did so in April, 1686, with a desire that it should not -immediately be published, as there were yet many things to complete. -Hooke, whose unwearied ingenuity had guessed at the true law of gravity, -immediately claimed to himself the honour of the discovery; how unjustly -it is needless to say, for the merit consisted not in the conjecture but -the demonstration. Newton was inclined in consequence to prevent the -publication of the work, or at least of the third part, De Mundi -Systemate, in which the mathematical conclusions of the former books -were applied to the system of the universe. Happily his reluctance was -overcome, and the whole work was published in May, 1687. Its doctrines -were too novel and surprising to meet with immediate assent; but the -illustrious author at once received the tribute of admiration for the -boldness which had formed, and the skill which had developed his theory, -and he lived to see it become the common philosophical creed of all -nations. - -We next find Newton acting in a very different character. James II. had -insulted the University of Cambridge by a requisition to admit a -Benedictine monk to the degree of Master of Arts without taking the -oaths enjoined by the constitution of the University. The mandate was -disobeyed; and the Vice-Chancellor was summoned before the -Ecclesiastical Commission to answer for the contempt. Nine delegates, of -whom Newton was one, were appointed by the University to defend their -proceedings; and their exertions were successful. He was soon after -elected to the Convention Parliament as member for the University of -Cambridge. That parliament was dissolved in February, 1690, and Newton, -who was not a candidate for a seat in the one which succeeded it, -returned to Cambridge, where he continued to reside for some years, -notwithstanding the efforts of Locke, and some other distinguished -persons with whom he had become acquainted in London, to fix him -permanently in the metropolis. - -During this time he continued to be occupied with philosophical -research, and with scientific and literary correspondence. Chemical -investigations appear to have engaged much of his time; but the -principal results of his studies were lost to the world by a fire in his -chambers about the year 1692. The consequences of this accident have -been very differently related. According to one version, a favourite -dog, called Diamond, caused the mischief, and the story has been often -told, that Newton was only provoked, by the loss of the labour of years, -to the exclamation, “Oh, Diamond! Diamond! thou little knowest the -mischief thou hast done.” Another, and probably a better authenticated -account, represents the disappointment as preying deeply on his spirits -for at least a month from the occurrence. - -We have more means of tracing Newton’s other pursuits about this time. -History, chronology, and divinity were his favourite relaxations from -science, and his reputation stood high as a proficient in these studies. -In 1690 he communicated to Locke his ‘Historical account of two notable -corruptions of the Scriptures,’ which was first published long after his -death. About the same time he was engaged in those researches which were -afterwards embodied in his Observations on the Prophecies: and in -December, 1692, he was in correspondence with Bentley on the application -of his own system to the support of natural theology. - -During the latter part of 1692 and the beginning of 1693 Newton’s health -was considerably impaired, and he laboured in the summer under some -epidemic disorder. It is not likely that the precise character or amount -of his indisposition will ever be discovered; but it seems, though the -opinion has been much controverted, that for a short time it affected -his understanding, and that in September, 1693, he was not in the full -possession of his mental faculties. The disease was soon removed, and -there is no reason to suppose that it ever recurred. But the course of -his life was changed; and from this time forward he devoted himself -chiefly to the completion of his former works, and abstained from any -new career of continued research. - -His time indeed was less at his own disposal than it had been. In 1696, -Mr. Montague, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, an early friend of -Newton, appointed him to the Wardenship of the Mint, and in 1699 he was -raised to the office of Master. He removed to London, and was much -occupied, especially during the new coinage in 1696 and 1697, with the -duties of his office. Still he found time to superintend the editions of -his earlier works, which successively appeared with very material -additions and improvements. The great work on Optics appeared for the -first time in a complete form in 1704, after the death of Hooke had -freed Newton from the fear of new controversies. It was accompanied by -some of his earlier mathematical treatises; and contained also, in -addition to the principal subject of the work, suggestions on a variety -of subjects of the highest philosophical interest, embodied in the shape -of queries. Among these is to be found the first suggestion of the -polarity of light; and we may mention at the same time, although they -occur in a different part of the work, the remarkable conjectures, since -verified, of the combustible nature of the diamond, and the existence of -an inflammable principle in water. The second edition of the Principia -appeared under the care of Cotes in 1713, after having been the subject -of correspondence between Newton and his editor for nearly four years. -Dr. Pemberton published a third edition in 1725, and he frequently -communicated about the work with Newton who was then eighty-two years -old. - -These were the chief scientific employments of Newton’s latter life: and -it is not necessary to particularize all its minor details. In 1712 he -made some improvements in his Arithmetica Universalis, a work containing -his algebraical discoveries, of which Whiston had surreptitiously -published an edition in 1707. It is also worthy of remark that at the -beginning of the year 1697, John Bernouilli addressed two problems as a -challenge to the mathematicians of Europe, and that Leibnitz in 1716 -made a similar appeal to the English analysts; and that Newton in each -case undertook and succeeded in the investigation. - -This enumeration of Newton’s philosophical employments has far outrun -the order of time. After his return to London, compliments and honours -flowed in rapidly upon him. In 1699 he was elected one of the first -foreign associates of the Académie des Sciences at Paris; and in 1701 he -was a second time returned to Parliament by the University of Cambridge. -He did not, however, long retain his seat. At the election in 1705 he -was at the bottom of the poll, and he does not appear again to have been -a candidate. In 1703 he was chosen President of the Royal Society, and -held that office till his death. In 1705 he was knighted by Queen Anne -upon her visit to Cambridge. - -Newton’s life in London was one of much dignity and comfort. He was -courted by the distinguished of all ranks, and particularly by the -Princess of Wales, who derived much pleasure from her intercourse both -with him and Leibnitz. His domestic establishment was liberal, and was -superintended during great part of his time by his niece, Mrs. Barton, a -woman of much beauty and talent, who married Mr. Conduitt, his assistant -and successor at the Mint. Newton’s liberality was almost boundless, yet -he died rich. - -The only material drawback to Newton’s enjoyment during this portion of -his life, seems to have arisen from controversies as to the history and -originality of his discoveries; a molestation to which his slowness to -publish them very naturally exposed him. There was a long and angry -dispute with Leibnitz about the priority of fluxions or the differential -calculus; and, after the fashion of most disputes, it diverged widely -from the original ground, and it became necessary for Newton to -vindicate the religious and metaphysical tendencies of his greatest -works. His success was complete on all points. Leibnitz does not appear -to have been acquainted with the method of fluxions at the time of his -own discovery, but there is now no doubt of Newton’s having preceded him -by some years; and the attacks made on the tendency of Newton’s -discoveries have long been remembered only as disgracing their author. -But such discussions had always been distasteful to Newton, and this -controversy, which was conducted with great rancour by his opponents and -some of his supporters, embittered his later years. - -The same fate awaited him in another instance. His system of Chronology -had been long conceived, but he had not communicated it to any one until -he explained it to the Princess of Wales. At her desire, he afterwards, -in 1718, drew up a short abstract of it for her use, and sent it to her -on condition that no one else should see it. She afterwards requested -that the Abbé Conti might have a copy of it, and Newton complied, but -still on the terms that it should not be farther divulged. Conti, -however, showed the manuscript at Paris to Freret, who, without the -author’s permission, translated and published it with observations in -opposition to its doctrines. Newton drew up a reply which was printed in -the Philosophical Transactions for 1725, and this was the signal for a -new attack by Souciet. Newton was then roused to his last great -exertion, that of fully digesting his system; which as yet existed only -in confused papers, and preparing it for the press. He did not live to -complete his task, but the work was left in a state of great -forwardness, and was published in 1728 by Mr. Conduitt. Its value is -well known. As a refutation of the systems of chronology then received, -it is almost demonstrative; and the affirmative conclusions, if not -always minutely correct, or even generally satisfactory, are yet among -the most valuable contributions which science has made to history. - -With the exception of the attack of 1693, Newton’s health had usually -been very good. But he suffered much from stone during the last few -years of his life. His mental faculties remained in general unaffected, -but his memory was much impaired. From the year 1725 he lived at -Kensington, but was still fond of going occasionally to London, and -visited it on February 28th, 1727, to preside at a meeting of the Royal -Society. The fatigue appears to have been too great: for the disease -attacked him violently on the 4th of March, and he lingered till the -20th, when he died. His sufferings were severe, but his temper was never -soured, nor the benevolence of his nature obscured. Indeed his moral was -not less admirable than his intellectual character, and it was guided -and supported by that religion, which he had studied not from -speculative curiosity, but with the serious application of a mind -habitually occupied with its duties, and earnestly desirous of its -advancement. - -Newton died without a will, and his property descended to Mrs. Conduitt -and his other relations in the same degree. He was buried with great -pomp in Westminster Abbey, where there is a monument to his memory, -erected by his relations. His Chronology appeared, as has been already -mentioned, almost immediately after his death; and the Lectiones Opticæ, -the substance of his lectures at Cambridge in the years 1669, 1670, and -1671, were published from his manuscripts in 1729. In 1733, Mr. Benjamin -Smith, one of the descendants of his mother’s second marriage, published -the Observations on the Prophecies. These, in addition to the works -already mentioned, are Newton’s principal writings; there are, however, -several smaller tracts, some of which appeared during his lifetime, and -some after his death, which it is not necessary here to specify. They -would have conferred much honour on most philosophers;—they are hardly -remembered in reckoning up Newton’s titles to fame. - -[Illustration: Roubiliac’s Statue from the Chapel of Trinity College.] - -Many portraits of Newton are in existence. The Royal Society possesses -two; and Lord Egremont is the owner of one, which is engraved as the -frontispiece to Dr. Brewster’s Life of Newton. Trinity College, -Cambridge, abounds in memorials of its greatest ornament. Almost every -room dedicated to public purposes possesses a picture of him, and the -chapel is adorned by Roubiliac’s noble statue. The library also has a -bust by the same artist, of perhaps even superior excellence. As works -of art these are far superior to any of the paintings extant: but they -have not the claim to authenticity possessed by the contemporary -portraits. It is remarkable, that until the recent publication of Dr. -Brewster’s life, no one had thought it worth while to devote an entire -work to the history of so remarkable a man as Newton. There is, however, -an elaborate memoir of him, written by M. Biot, in the Biographie -Universelle, which has been republished in the Library of Useful -Knowledge. - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by R. Woodman._ - - MICHAEL ANGELO BUONAROTI. - - _From a Picture by V. Campil, in the possession of the Right Hon. Lord - Dover._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - MICHAEL ANGELO - - -Michael Angelo Buonaroti was born at the castle of Caprese in Tuscany, -on March 6, 1474–5. He was descended from a noble, though not a wealthy -family; and his father endeavoured to check the fondness for drawing -which he showed at an early age, lest he should disgrace his parentage -by following what was then deemed little better than a mechanical -employment. Fortunately for the arts, the bent of the son’s genius was -too decided to be foiled by the parent’s pride; and in April, 1488, -young Buonaroti was placed under the tuition of Ghirlandaio, then the -most eminent painter in Italy. - -He soon distinguished himself above his fellow pupils, and was fortunate -in attracting the notice of Lorenzo de Medici; but the early death of -his patron, and the troubles which ensued in Florence, clouded the -brilliant prospects which seemed open to him. He first visited Rome when -about twenty-two years old, at the invitation of Cardinal St. Giorgio; -and resided in that city for a year, without being employed to execute -anything for his pretended patron. He obtained three commissions, -however, from other quarters; one for a Cupid, a second for a statue of -Bacchus, a third for a Virgin and dead Christ, which forms the -altar-piece of a chapel in St. Peter’s. The latter work was the most -important, and established his character as one of the first sculptors -of the day. - -Returning to Florence soon after the appointment of Sodarini to be -perpetual Gonfaloniere, or standard-bearer, an office equivalent to that -of president of the republic, he found ampler room for the development -of his talents in the favour of the chief magistrate; for whom he -executed the celebrated statue of David, in marble, placed in front of -the Palazzo Vecchio; and another statue of David, and a group of David -and Goliath, both in bronze. To this period we are also to refer an oil -picture of a Holy Family, painted for Angelo Doni, and now in the -Florence gallery; the only oil painting which can be authenticated as -proceeding from his hand. - -The accounts of Michael Angelo’s early life relate so exclusively to his -skill and practice as a sculptor, that some wonder may be felt as to the -means by which he acquired the technical science and dexterity necessary -to the painter. But it was in composition, and as a draughtsman that he -excelled, not as a colourist; and the same intimate knowledge of the -human figure, and freedom and boldness of hand, which guided his chisel, -often, it is said, without a model, will account for the anatomical -excellence and energy of his drawings. Nevertheless it is surprising to -find him at this early age rivalling, and indeed by general suffrage -excelling in his own art Leonardo da Vinci, not only the first painter -of his generation, but one of the most accomplished persons of his age. -The work to which we allude, the celebrated Cartoon of Pisa, painted as -a companion to a battle-piece of Leonardo, has long disappeared; and is -generally supposed to have been destroyed clandestinely by Baccio -Bandinelli, a rival artist, of whose envious and cowardly temper some -amusing anecdotes are related in Benvenuto Cellini’s autobiography. It -represented a party of Florentine soldiers, disturbed, while bathing in -the Arno, by a sudden call to arms. Only one copy of it is said to -exist, which is preserved in Mr. Coke’s collection at Holkham. - -When Julius II. ascended the papal chair, he invited Michael Angelo to -Rome, and commissioned him to erect a splendid tomb. The original -design, a sketch of which may be seen in Bottari’s edition of Vasari, -was for an insulated building, thirty-four feet six inches by -twenty-three feet, ornamented with forty statues, many of colossal size, -and a vast number of bronze and marble columns, basso-relievos, and -every species of architectural decoration of the richest sort. This -commission, upon the due execution of which Michael Angelo set his -heart, as a worthy opportunity of immortalizing his name, was destined -to involve him in a long train of vexations. During the life of Julius, -the attention which he wished to concentrate on this one great work was -distracted by a variety of other employments forced on him by his -patron. Upon his death, it was resolved to finish it on a smaller scale: -but its progress was then more seriously interrupted by the eagerness of -successive Popes to employ the great artist on works which should -immortalize their own names as liberal patrons of the arts. Ultimately, -after much dissatisfaction and dispute on the part of Pope Julius’s -heirs, the form of the monument was altered; and as it now stands in the -church of St. Pietro in Vinculis, it consists only of a façade, -ornamented by seven statues, three of which are from the hand of Michael -Angelo, the others are by inferior artists. The central figure is the -celebrated Moses, by many considered the finest modern work of -sculpture; and this is the only part of the original composition. - -During the same pontificate, Michael Angelo painted the ceiling of the -Sistine chapel. The employment was not to his taste; but it was forced -upon him by Pope Julius. He had never tried his powers in fresco -painting; and that branch of the art, as is well known, involves many -difficulties, which, though merely mechanical, it requires some practice -and experience to surmount. Having first completed the design in a -series of cartoons, he sent to Florence to engage the ablest assistants -to be found: but their labours were unsatisfactory, and dismissing them, -he set to work himself, and executed the whole vault with his own hands, -in the short space of twenty months. - -Julius II. died in 1513. The next nine years, comprehending the -pontificate of Leo X., are an entire blank in Michael Angelo’s life, so -far as regards the practice of his art. He was employed the whole time, -by the Pope’s express order, in superintending some new marble quarries -in the mountains of Tuscany. - -During the pontificate of Adrian VI. he resided at Florence, where -Giuliano de Medici, afterwards Clement VII., employed him to build a new -library and sacristy to the church of St. Lorenzo, and a sepulchral -chapel, to serve as a mausoleum for the ducal family. He was also -employed to execute two monuments in honour of Giuliano, the brother, -and Lorenzo de Medici, the nephew, of Leo X. The princes are represented -seated, in the Roman military habit, above two sarcophagi. Below are two -recumbent figures to each monument, one pair representing Morning and -Evening; the other, Day and Night. The reason for this singular choice -of personages is not explained. - -We cannot enter upon the maze of Italian politics, which led to the -siege of Florence by the imperial troops in 1529–30. Michael Angelo’s -well-known and varied talent led to his being appointed chief engineer -and master of the ordnance to the city; in which capacity he gained new -honour by his skill, resolution, and patriotism. During this turbulent -time he began a picture of Leda, which was sent to France, and fell into -the possession of Francis I. It has long been lost; the original cartoon -is in the collection of the Royal Academy. - -Michael Angelo’s second work in fresco, the Last Judgment, occupying the -east end of the Sistine chapel, seems to have been begun in 1533 or -1534. It was not finished till 1541. His last and only other works of -this kind were two large pictures in the Pauline chapel, representing -the Martyrdom of St. Peter, and the Conversion of St. Paul. These were -not completed till he had reached the advanced age of seventy-five. - -In 1546 died Antonio da San Gallo, the third architect employed in the -rebuilding of St. Peter’s. The project of renewing the metropolitan -church of Rome was first suggested to the ambitious mind of Pope Julius -II. by the impossibility of finding any place in the then existing -cathedral, worthy of the splendid monument which he had ordered Michael -Angelo to execute. Bramante, Raphael, and San Gallo, were successively -appointed to conduct the mighty undertaking, and removed by death. San -Gallo had deviated materially from the design of Bramante. Michael -Angelo disapproved of his alterations; but was deterred from returning -to the original plan by its vast extent, and the necessity of -contracting the extent of the work so as to meet the impoverished state -of the Papal treasury, produced by the spreading of the Reformation in -Germany and England. He accordingly gave in the design from which the -present building was erected, which, gigantic as it is, falls short of -the dimensions of that which Julius proposed to raise. Having now -reached the advanced age of seventy-one, it was with reluctance that he -undertook so heavy a charge. It was, indeed, only by the absolute -command of the Pope that he was induced to do so; and on the unusual -condition that he should receive no salary, as he accepted the office -purely from devotional feelings. He also made it a condition that he -should be absolutely empowered to discharge any persons employed in the -works, and to supply their places at his pleasure. - -To the independent and upright feelings which led him to insist on this -latter clause, the factious opposition, which harassed the remainder of -his life, is partly to be ascribed. Disinterested himself, he suffered -no peculation under his administration; and he was repaid by the hatred -of a powerful party connected with those whose vanity his appointment -wounded, or whose interests his honesty crossed. Repeated attempts were -made to procure his removal, to which he would willingly have yielded, -but for a due sense of the greatness of the work which he had -undertaken, and reluctance to quit it, until too far advanced to be -altered and spoiled by some inferior hand. This praiseworthy solicitude -was not disappointed. During the life of Paul, and through four -succeeding pontificates, he held the situation of chief architect; and -before his death, in February, 1563–4, the cupola was raised, and the -principal features of the building unalterably determined. - -His earlier architectural works are to be seen at Florence. They consist -of the façade and sacristy of the church of St. Lorenzo, left unfinished -by Brunelleschi, the mausoleum of the Medici family, and the Laurentian -library. During the latter part of his life he amused his leisure hours -by working on a group representing a dead Christ, supported by the -Virgin and Nicodemus, which he intended for an altar-piece to the chapel -in which he should himself be interred. It was never finished, however, -and is now in the cathedral of Florence. But, from the time of his -assuming the charge of St. Peter’s, his attention was almost entirely -devoted to architecture. His chief works were the completion of the -Farnese palace, begun by San Gallo; the palace of the Senator of Rome, -the picture galleries, and flight of steps leading up to the convent of -Araceli, all situated on the Capitoline hill; and the conversion of the -baths of Diocletian into the church of S. Maria degli Angeli. - -Michael Angelo, though he painted few pictures himself, frequently gave -designs to be executed by his favourite pupils, especially Sebastiano -del Piombo. Such was the origin of the magnificent Raising of Lazarus, -in the National Gallery. Like many artists of that age, he aspired to be -a poet. His works consist chiefly of sonnets, modelled on the style of -Petrarch. Religion and Love are the prevailing subjects. - -The Life of Michael Angelo, by Mr. Duppa, will gratify the curiosity of -the English reader, who wishes to pursue the subject beyond this mere -list of the artist’s principal works. To the Italian reader we may -recommend the lives of Condivi and Vasari, as containing the original -information from which subsequent writers have drawn their accounts. To -do justice to the versatile, yet profound genius of this great man, is a -task which we must leave to such writers as Reynolds and Fuseli, in -whose lectures the reader will find ample evidence of the profound -admiration with which they regarded him. Nor can we conclude better than -with the short but energetic character given by the latter, of his -favourite artist’s style of genius, and of his principal works:— - -“Sublimity of conception, grandeur of form, and breadth of manner, are -the elements of Michael Angelo’s style. By these principles he selected -or rejected the objects of imitation. As painter, as sculptor, as -architect, he attempted, and above any other man, succeeded, to unite -magnificence of plan, and endless variety of subordinate parts, with the -utmost simplicity and breadth. His line is uniformly grand: character -and beauty were admitted only as far as they could be made subservient -to grandeur. To give the appearance of perfect ease to the most -perplexing difficulty, was the exclusive power of Michael Angelo. He is -the inventor of epic painting, in that sublime circle of the Sistine -chapel which exhibits the origin, the progress, and the final -dispensations of theocracy. He has personified motion in the groups of -the Cartoon of Pisa; embodied sentiment on the monuments of S. Lorenzo; -unravelled the features of meditation in the Prophets and Sibyls of the -Sistine chapel; and in the Last Judgment, with every attitude that -varies the human body, traced the master-trait of every passion that -sways the human heart. Though, as sculptor, he expressed the character -of flesh more perfectly than all who came before or went after him, yet -he never submitted to copy an individual, Julius II. only excepted; and -in him he represented the reigning passion rather than the man. In -painting he has contented himself with a negative colour, and as the -painter of mankind, rejected all meretricious ornament. The fabric of -St. Peter’s, scattered into infinity of jarring parts by Bramante and -his successors, he concentrated; suspended the cupola, and to the most -complex gave the air of the most simple of edifices. Such, take him for -all in all, was M. Angelo, the salt of art: sometimes he no doubt had -his moments of dereliction, deviated into manner, or perplexed the -grandeur of his forms with futile and ostentatious anatomy: both met -with armies of copyists; and it has been his fate to be censured for -their folly.”—(Lecture II.) - -[Illustration: - - JACKSON - - From the Monument of Giuliano de Medici. -] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by J. Posselwhite._ - - MOLIERE. - - _From the original Picture of Lebrun’s School, in the collection of - the Musée Royale. Paris._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - MOLIERE - - -Moliere, the contemporary of Corneille and Racine, whose original and -real name was Jean Baptiste Poquelin, was born at Paris on the 15th -January, 1622. His father and mother were both in trade; and they -brought up their son to their own occupation. At the age of fourteen, -young Poquelin could neither read, write, nor cast accounts. But the -grandfather was very fond of him; and being himself a great lover of -plays, often took his favourite to the theatre. The natural genius of -the boy was, by this initiation, kindled into a decided taste for -dramatic entertainments: a disgust to trade was the consequence, and a -desire of that mental cultivation from which he had hitherto been -debarred. His father consented at length to his becoming a pupil of the -Jesuits at the College of Clermont. He remained there five years, and -was fortunate enough to be the class-fellow of Armand de Bourbon, Prince -de Conti, whose friendship and protection proved of signal service to -him in after-life. He studied under the celebrated Gassendi, who was so -impressed by the apparent aptitude of young Poquelin to receive -instruction, that he admitted him to the private lectures given to his -other pupils. Gassendi was in the habit of breaking a lance with two -great rivals: Aristotle, at the head of ancient, and Descartes, then at -the head of modern philosophy. By witnessing this combat, Poquelin -acquired a habit of independent reasoning, sound principles, extensive -knowledge, and that feeling of practical good sense, which was so -conspicuous not only in his most laboured, but even in his lightest -productions. - -His studies under Gassendi were abruptly terminated by the following -circumstance. His father was attached to the court in the double -capacity of valet-de-chambre and tapestry-maker; and the son had the -reversion of these places. When Louis XIII. went to Narbonne in 1641, -the old man was ill, and the young one was obliged to officiate for him. -On his return to Paris, his passion for the stage, which had first led -him into the paths of literature, revived with renewed strength. The -taste of Cardinal de Richelieu for theatrical performances was -communicated to the nation at large, and a peculiar protection was -granted to dramatic poets. Many little societies were formed for acting -plays in private houses, for the amusement at least of the performers. -Poquelin collected a company of young stage-stricken heroes, who so far -exceeded all their rivals, as to earn for their establishment the -pompous title of The Illustrious Theatre. He now determined to make the -stage his profession, and changing his name, according to the usage in -such cases, adopted that of Moliere. - -He disappears during the time of the civil wars, from 1648 to 1652; but -we may suppose the interval to have been passed in composing some of -those pieces which were afterwards brought before the public. When the -disturbances ceased, Moliere, in partnership with an actress of -Champagne, named La Béjard, formed a strolling company; and his first -regular piece, called L’Etourdi, or the Blunderer, was performed at -Lyons in 1653. Another company of comedians settled in that town was -deserted by the spectators in favour of these clever vagabonds; and the -principal performers of the regular establishment took the hint, -pocketed their dignity, and joined Moliere. The united company -transferred itself to Languedoc, and were retained in the service of the -Prince of Conti. During the Carnival of 1658, the troop, having resumed -their vagrant life, were playing at Grenoble. The following summer was -passed at Rouen. When so near Paris, Moliere made occasional journeys -thither, with the earnest hope of bettering his fortune in the -metropolis, where the market for talent is always brisk and open, the -competition, though severe, fair and encouraging. Once more he received -protection from his august fellow-collegian, who introduced him to -Monsieur, and ultimately to the King himself. The company appeared -before their Majesties and the court for the first time, on the 3d of -November, 1658, on a stage erected in the Hall of the Guards in the Old -Louvre. Their success was so complete that the King gave orders for -their permanent settlement in Paris, and they were allowed to act -alternately with the Italian players in the Hall of the Petit Bourbon. -In 1663 a pension of a thousand livres was granted to Moliere, and in -1665 his company was taken altogether into the King’s service. - -As in the course of about fifteen years he produced more than double -that number of dramatic pieces, instead of giving, within our narrow -limits, a mere dry catalogue of titles, we shall make some more detailed -remarks on a few of those masterpieces, in different styles, which not -only raised the character of French comedy to a great height in France -itself, but in a great measure furnished the staple to some of our own -most distinguished writers. - -Among many persons of taste and judgment, the Misantrope has borne the -character of being the most finished of all Moliere’s pieces; of -combining the most powerful efforts of united genius and art. The -subject is single, and the unities are exactly observed. The principal -person of the drama is strongly conceived, and brought out with the -boldest strokes of the master’s pencil: it is throughout uniform, and in -strict keeping. The subordinate persons are equally well drawn, and -fitted for their business in the scene, so as to throw an artist-like -light upon the chief figure. The scenes and incidents are so contrived -and conducted as to diversify the main character, and set it in various -points of view. The sentiments are strong and nervous as well as proper; -and the good sense with which the piece is fraught, proves that the -bustle and dissipation of the court and the theatre had not obliterated -the lessons of the college, or the lectures of Gassendi. The title of -the play will at once bring to the mind of an Englishman our own Timon -of Athens; but there are scarcely any other points of resemblance. The -ancient and the modern Man-hater had little in common: the Athenian was -the victim of personal ill-treatment; having suffered by excess of -good-nature and credulity, he runs into the other extreme of suspicion -and revenge. Moliere’s Man-hater owes his character to the severity of -virtue, which can give no quarter to the vices of mankind; to that -sincerity which disdains indiscriminate complaisance, and the -prostitution of the language of friendship to the flattery of fools and -knaves. Wycherley, in his Plain Dealer, has given the French Misantrope -an English dress. Manly is a character of humour, speaking and acting -from a peculiar bias of temper and inclination; but the coarseness of -the _plain dealing_ is not to be tolerated, and what Manly _does_ goes -near to counteract the moral effect of what he _says_. - -By way of contrasting the various talents of the author, than whom none -better understood human nature in its various ramifications, or copied -more skilfully every shade and gradation of manners, we may just mention -the Bourgeois Gentilhomme, exhibiting the folly and affectation of a cit -turned man of fashion. If the moral of the Misantrope be pure, the wit -of the Bourgeois is terse and diverting. - -In several of his comedies he has treated medicine and its professors -not only with freedom but severity; it was, however, perverted medicine -only, and its quack professors that were the subjects of his ridicule. -The respectable members of the faculty could be no more affected by the -satire, nor displeased by what they could not fear, than a true prophet -by the punishment of imposture. Those who are acquainted with the -history of the science will recollect the state of it at Paris in -Moliere’s time, and the character of the physicians. Their whole -employment was confined to searching after visionary specifics, and -experimental trickery in chemistry. The cause of a disease was never -inquired after, nor the symptoms regarded; but hypothetical jargon and -random prescription were thrown like dust into the eyes of the patient, -to the exclusion of a practice founded on science and observation. Thus -medicine became a pest instead of a remedy; and this state of things -justified the chastisement inflicted. - -Les Précieuses Ridicules is a comedy intended to reprove a vain, -fantastical, and preposterous humour prevailing very much about that -time in France. It had the desired effect, and conduced materially -towards rooting out a taste in manners so unreasonable and ridiculous. - -Tartuffe, or The Impostor, has occasionally, and even recently, -sometimes to the disturbance of the public peace in France, given great -offence not only to those who felt the justice, and winced under the -severity of the satire; but to others, who suspected that a blow was -aimed at religion, under the mask of an attack upon hypocrisy. But its -intrinsic merit, the truth of the drawing, and the justness of the -colouring, have secured patrons for it among persons of unquestionable -sense, virtue, learning, and taste; and it has always triumphed over the -violence of opposition. Cibber, a vamper of other men’s plays, has -borrowed from it his favourite Nonjuror, and applied it to the purposes -of a political party. On this adaptation has been grafted a more modern -attack on the Methodists, under the title of The Hypocrite. But however -great may be the merit of this celebrated drama, it cannot boast of -entire originality. Machiavelli left behind him three comedies, the -fruits of a statesman’s leisure hours. In all three, the author has -exhibited the hand of a master; he has painted mankind in the spirit of -truth, and unmasked falsehood and hypocrisy in a tone of profound -contempt. Two monks, a brother Timothy and a brother Alberico, are -represented with too much wit and keenness of sarcasm to have been -overlooked by Moliere in his working up of the third specimen. The first -three acts of the Tartuffe were played for the first time at court -before the piece was finished. Masques of pomp, magnificence and -panegyric, such as usually furnish out the amusement of royal saloons, -are forgotten as soon as they have served the purpose of the moment: but -masterpieces like that now in question perpetuate their own renown, and -leave a lasting memorial of what is supposed to be a phenomenon, a -princely taste for genuine wit. - -Les Fâcheux was the first piece in which dancing was so connected with -the dramatic action, as to fill up the intervals without breaking the -thread of the story. - -Le Mariage Forcé was borrowed from Rabelais, to whom both Moliere and La -Fontaine were deeply indebted. The Aristotelian and Pyrrhonian -philosophy, as travestied by modern doctors, furnishes occasion for -lively satire and clever buffoonery. The horror with which Pancrace -calls down the vengeance of heaven on him who should dare to say the -_form_ of a hat, instead of the _figure_ of a hat, is a pleasant parody -on the unintelligible absurdities of the schools. According to -Marphurius, philosophy commands us to suspend our judgment, and to speak -of every thing with uncertainty; not to say _I am come_, but, _I think -that I am come_. - -La Princesse d’Elide, though not one of Moliere’s happiest efforts, -deserves notice on account of its contributing to the festivities of the -court, by an adaptation of ingenious allegories to the manners and -events of the time. This satire was aimed at the illusion of Judicial -Astrology, after which many princes of the period were running mad; and -in particular Victor Amadeus, Duke of Savoy, father of the Duchess of -Burgundy, who kept an astrologer about his person even after his -abdication. The dramatic antiquary may find some amusement in comparing -the fêtes of the French court with the masques of Ben Jonson, Davenant, -and others, exhibited before our James I. and Charles I.; but here the -interest ends. It is sufficient to remark, that the masques of the -English court owed their power of pleasing to the ingenuity of the -machinist and the flattery of the poet. The little dramas performed -before the royal family of France tickled the ears of the audience by -the pungency of their wit and ridicule. - -The Miser has been pretty closely translated, for the version is little -more, by Henry Fielding; but not so happily as he himself seems to have -imagined. - -The subject of that excellent comedy, Les Femmes Savantes, in which the -ridicule is kept within reasonable bounds, and female faults and virtues -are painted with a proper gradation of colouring, where what the -painters call a _medium tint_ harmonizes the extremes of light and -shade, was taken up by Goldoni with that coarse and abrupt pencilling of -black and white, which has always been the vice of the Italian stage. It -has indeed been advanced as a reproach to Moliere, that he too often -charged his comic pictures with the extravagance of caricature: but if -we compare even the most farcical of his scenes with the speaking -pantomimes and half-improvisations of Italy, we must pronounce him a -model of delicacy and classical propriety. - -His last comedy was Le Malade Imaginaire. It was acted for the fourth -time on the 17th February, 1673. The principal character represented is -that of a sick man, who, to carry on a purpose of the plot, pretends to -be dead. This part was played by Moliere himself. The popular story was, -that when he was to discover that it was only a feint, he could neither -speak nor get up, being actually dead. The wits and epigrammatists made -the most of the occurrence; those who could not write good French, -treated it with bad Latin. But unluckily for the stability of their -conceits, they were not built on the foundation of truth. Though very -ill, and obviously in much pain, he was able to finish the play. He went -home, and was put to bed: his cough increased violently; a vessel burst -in his lungs, and he was suffocated with blood in about half an hour -after. He was only in his fifty-second year when this event took place. -The King was extremely affected at this sudden loss, by which, as -Johnson said of Garrick, the gaiety of nations was eclipsed; and as a -strong mark of his regard, he prevailed with the archbishop of Paris to -allow of his being interred in consecrated ground. Nothing short of so -absolute a King’s interposition could have effected this; for, -independently of the general sentence of excommunication then in force -against scenic performers, Moliere had drawn upon himself the resentment -of the ecclesiastics in particular, by exposing the hypocrites of their -cloth, as well as the bigots among the laity. Those who ridicule folly -and knavery in all orders of men must expect to be treated as Moliere -was, and to have the foolish and knavish of all orders for enemies. -During his life, Paris and the court were stirred up and inflamed -against the dramatist; and on more than one occasion, he must have -fallen a sacrifice to the indignation of the clergy, had he not been -protected by the King. The friend of his life did not desert him when he -was dead; but procured for his insensible remains that decent respect, -which all nations have consented to pay, as a tribute even to -themselves. - -Voltaire characterizes Moliere as the best comic poet of any nation; and -treats the posthumous hostility which made a difficulty about his burial -as a reproach both to France and to the Catholic religion. Professing to -have reperused the comedians of antiquity for the purpose of comparison, -he gives it as his judgment, that the French dramatist is entitled to -the preference. He grounds this decision on the art and regularity of -the modern theatre, contrasted with the unconnected scenes of the -ancients, their weak intrigues, and the strange practice of declaring by -the mouths of the actors, in cold and unnatural monologues, what they -had done and what they intended to do. He concludes by saying that -Moliere did for comedy what Corneille had done for tragedy; and that the -French were superior on this ground to all the people upon earth. A -country possessing such a comic drama as ours, throughout the course of -about two centuries, with Much ado about Nothing at one end of the list, -and The School for Scandal at the other, will be inclined to demur to -this broad national assumption: but we, in our turn, must in candour -confess, that though the chronological precedence of Shakspeare, Jonson, -Fletcher, Massinger, and Ford, had established a glorious stage for us -before Moliere was born, or while he was yet in petticoats; yet our most -eminent comic writers in the reigns of William III., Anne, and George -I., drank deep and often from the abundant source of French comedy. But -Moliere’s influence was most beneficially exerted in reclaiming his -countrymen from a fondness for such Italian conceits as ringing the -changes upon _odours_ and _ardours_, &c., to which authors like Scudery, -Voiture, and Balzac had given an ephemeral fashion. Boileau and Moliere -principally contributed to arm the French against the invasion from -beyond the Alps, of such madrigal-writers as Marini, Achillini, and -Préti. - -It is not true that Moliere, when he commenced his career, found the -theatre absolutely destitute of good comedies. Corneille had already -produced Le Menteur, a piece combining character with intrigue, imported -from the Spanish stage. Moliere had produced only two of his most -esteemed plays, when the public was gratified with La Mère Coquette of -Quinault, than which few pieces were more happy either in point of -character or intrigue. But if Corneille be the first legitimate model -for tragedy, Moliere was so for comedy. The general shaping of his -plots, the connexion of his scenes, his dramatic consistency and -propriety were attempted to be copied by succeeding writers: but who -could compete with him in wit and spirit? His well-directed attacks did -more than any thing to rescue the public from the impertinence of -subaltern courtiers affecting airs of importance; from the affectation -of conceited, and the pedantry of learned, ladies; from the quackery of -professional costume and barbarous Latin on the part of the medical -tribe. Moliere was the legislator of conventional proprieties. That -period might well be called the Augustan age of France, which saw the -tragedies of Corneille and Racine; the comedies of Moliere; the birth of -modern music in the symphonies of Lulli; the pulpit eloquence of Bossuet -and Bourdaloüe. Louis XIV. was the hearer and the patron of all these; -and his taste was duly appreciated and adopted by the accomplished -Madame, by a Condé, a Turenne, and a Colbert, followed by a long train -of eminent men in every department of the state and of society. - -Little has come down to us respecting Moliere’s personal history or -habits, excepting that his marriage was not among the happy or -creditable events of his life. So little did he in his own case weigh -the evils of disproportioned age, however sarcastically he might imagine -them in fictitious scenes, that he took for his partner the daughter of -La Béjard, the associate of his strolling career. If his choice were a -fault, it carried its punishment along with it. He was very jealous, and -the young lady was an accomplished coquette. The bickerings of married -life were the frequent and successful topics of his comedies; and his -enemies asserted, that in drawing such scenes, he possessed the -advantage of painting from the life. Of that ridicule which had so often -set the theatre in a roar, he was himself the serious subject, the -repentant and writhing victim. - -Fuller accounts of Moliere are to be found prefixed to the best editions -of his works: we may mention those of Joly, Petitot, and Auger. An -article of considerable length, by the last-named author, is devoted to -our poet in the Biographie Universelle. - -[Illustration: Scene from Les Précieuses Ridicules.] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by I. W. Cook._ - - CHARLES JAMES FOX. - - _From a Picture by Sir Joshua Reynolds in the possession of Lord - Holland._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - FOX - - -The Right Honourable Charles James Fox was third son of the Right -Honourable Henry Fox, afterwards Lord Holland, and of Lady Georgina -Caroline Fox, eldest daughter of Charles, second Duke of Richmond. He -was born January 24th, 1749, N. S. - -Mr. Fox received his education at Eton; and the favourite studies of the -place had more than ordinary influence over his tastes and literary -pursuits in after-life. Before he left school, his father was so -imprudent as to carry him to Paris and Spa. To his early associations at -the latter place may be ascribed that propensity to gaming, which was -the bane of two-thirds of his life. As the present article is not -designed to be a mere panegyric, we abandon the indulgence of this fatal -passion to the severest censure that can be bestowed upon it by the -philosopher and the moralist: but justice demands it at our hands to -say, that after the adjustment of Mr. Fox’s affairs by his friends, -personal and political, he resolutely conquered what habit had almost -raised into second nature, and abstained from play with scrupulous -fidelity. It may further be remarked, that while the paroxysms of the -fever were most violent, his mind was never interrupted from more worthy -objects of pursuit. - -The following anecdote will show the divided empire which discordant -passions alternately usurped over his heart. On a night when he had -sustained some serious losses, his deportment assumed so much of the -character of despair, that his friends became uneasy: they followed him -at distance enough to elude his observation, from the clubhouse to his -home in the neighbourhood. They knocked at his door in time, as they -thought, to have prevented any rash act, and rushed into the library. -There they found the object of their anxiety stretched on the ground -without his coat, before the fire: his hand neither grasping a razor nor -a pistol, but his eyes intently fixed on the pages of Herodotus. The old -historian had engrossed him wholly from the moment when he took up the -volume, and the ruins of his own air-built castles vanished from before -him, as soon as he got sight of the venerable remains of the ancient -world. - -At Oxford Mr. Fox distinguished himself by his powers of application, as -well as by the intuitive quickness of his parts. On quitting the -university, he accompanied his father and mother to the south of Europe. -Not finding a good Italian master at Naples, he taught himself that -language during the winter, and contracted a strong partiality for -Italian literature. In a letter from Florence to Mr. Fitz-Patrick, he -conjures that gentleman to learn Italian as fast as he can, if it were -only to read Ariosto; and adds, “There is more good poetry in Italian -than in all other languages I understand put together.” At a later -period of life, if we may judge from the tenor of his correspondence -with eminent scholars, he would have transferred that praise from the -Italian to the Greek tongue. At this time he was very fond of acting -plays, and was in all respects the man of fashion. Those who recollect -the simplicity, bordering on negligence, of his outward garb late in -life, will smile at the idea of Mr. Fox with a powdered toupee and red -heels to his shoes, the hero of private theatricals. During his absence, -in 1768, he was chosen to represent Midhurst, and made his first speech -on the 15th April, 1769. According to Horace Walpole, he spoke with -violence, but with infinite superiority of parts. - -Circumscribed as we are as to space, we shall not follow Mr. Fox’s -subaltern career in the House of Commons. It was his breach with Lord -North that raised him into a party leader. He had previously formed an -intimate acquaintance with Mr. Burke. He began by receiving the lessons -of that eminent person as a pupil; but the master was soon so convinced -of his scholar’s greatness of character, and statesman-like turn of -mind, that he resigned the lead to him, and became an efficient -coadjutor in the Rockingham party, of which, in the House of Commons, he -had almost been the dictator. The American war roused all the energies -of Mr. Fox’s mind. The discussions to which it gave rise involved all -the first principles of free government. The vicissitudes of the contest -tried the firmness of the parliamentary opposition. Its duration -exercised their perseverance. Its magnitude and the dangers of the -country called forth their powers. Gibbon says, “Mr. Fox discovered -powers for regular debate, which neither his friends hoped nor his -enemies dreaded.” The following passage, from a letter to Mr. -Fitz-Patrick, written in 1778, illustrates his honourable and -independent character: “People flatter me that I continue to gain rather -than lose estimation as an orator; and I am so convinced this is all I -ever shall gain (unless I choose to be one of the meanest of men), that -I never think of any other object of ambition. I am certainly ambitious -by nature, but I have, or think I have, totally subdued that passion. I -have still as much vanity as ever, which is a happier passion by far, -because great reputation, I think, I may acquire and keep; great -situations I never can acquire, nor, if acquired, keep, without making -sacrifices that I will never make.” In the summer of 1778, he rejected -Lord Weymouth’s overtures to join the ministry, and took his station as -the leading commoner in the Rockingham party, to which he had become -attached on principle long before he enlisted permanently in its ranks. -The conspicuous features of that party, and of Mr. Fox’s public -character, were the love of peace with foreign powers, the spirit of -conciliation in home management, an ardent attachment to civil and -religious liberty. - -The day of triumph came at last, when a resolution against the further -prosecution of the American war was carried in the Commons. The King was -compelled, reluctantly, to part with the supporters of his favourite -principles, and had nothing left but to sow the seeds of disunion -between the Rockingham and Chatham or Shelburne party, united on the -subject of America, but disagreeing on many other points both of -external and internal policy. In this he was but too successful. We have -neither space nor inclination to unravel the web of court intrigue; but -we may remark that Lord Rockingham’s demands were too extensive to be -palatable: they involved the independence of America, the pacification -of Ireland, bills for economical and parliamentary reform, to be brought -into Parliament as ministerial measures. But the untimely death of Lord -Rockingham frustrated his enlightened and enlarged designs, by -dissolving the ministry over which he had presided. Mr. Fox has been -blamed for the precipitancy of his resignation. The tone of sentiment in -a letter before quoted will both account and apologise for the rashness -if it were such; and it is obvious that the sacrifice of personal -feeling, or even of political consistency, could not long have deferred -it, amidst the cabals and clashing interests of party. Mr. Fox’s policy -was to detach Holland and America from France, and to form a continental -balance against the House of Bourbon. Lord Shelburne’s system was to -conciliate France, and to treat her allies as dependent powers. Lord -Shelburne had the ear of the King. He strengthened himself with some of -the old supporters of the American war, to fill the vacant offices, and -made Mr. Pitt, just rising into eminence, his Chancellor of the -Exchequer. There were now three parties in the Commons; the ministerial, -the Whig or Rockingham, and the third consisting of those members of the -late war ministry who had not been invited to join the present. A -coalition of some two of these three parties was almost unavoidable: the -public would have most approved of a reunion among the Whigs; but there -had been too much of mutual recrimination and dispute to admit of -reconciliation. Nothing, therefore, remained but a junction of the two -parties in opposition. A judicious friend of Mr. Fox said, “that to -undertake the government with Lord North, was to risk their credit on -very unsafe grounds. Unless a real good government is the consequence of -this junction, nothing can justify it to the public.” Popular feeling -was strongly against this coalition, mainly on account of some personal -acrimony vented by Mr. Fox, in the boiling over of his wrath during the -American contest, which seemed to bear upon the moral character of his -opponent. It is to be considered, however, that the most amiable -persons, if enthusiastic, are apt in the heat of passion to launch out -into invective far more violent than their natural benevolence would -justify in their cooler moments. The question on which Mr. Fox and Lord -North had been so acrimoniously opposed, had ceased to exist: and -perhaps there existed no solid reason against the union of the two -parties. But the measure was almost universally believed to arise from -corrupt motives: it afforded a fine scope for satire and caricature; and -these have no small influence upon the politics of the multitude. And -while the people were displeased, the King was decidedly unfriendly to -the administration which had forced itself upon him. He considered the -Rockingham party as enemies to his prerogative, as well as friends to -American independence. He was forced to take them in, but resolved to -throw them out again. The unpopular India bill, which Mr. Pitt -afterwards adopted with some modifications, furnished the opportunity. -The offence taken by the people against the coalition, made them lend a -ready ear to the charge of ministerial oligarchy: the King disguised his -sentiments till the last moment, procured the rejection of the bill in -the Lords, and instantly dismissed his ministers. - -The coalition was still in possession of the House of Commons; but the -voice of the people supported the minister, a dissolution was resorted -to, and the will of the King was accomplished. - -From 1784 to 1792, Mr. Fox was leader of a powerful party in the House -of Commons, in opposition to Mr. Pitt. The Westminster Scrutiny, the -Regency, the abatement of Impeachments by a dissolution of Parliament, -the Libel Bill, the Russian Armament, and the Repeal of the Corporation -and Test Acts, were the topics which called forth his most powerful -exertions. His force as a professed orator was conspicuously displayed -in Westminster Hall, on the trial of Warren Hastings; but the triumph of -his talents is to be found in those masterly replies to his antagonists, -in which cutting sarcasm and close argument, logical acuteness and -metaphysical subtlety were so combined, as to surpass all that modern -experience had witnessed. The constitutional doctrines of Mr. Fox on the -Regency question were much canvassed, and, by many, severely censured. -The fact was, that the case was new; provided for neither by law, -precedent, nor analogy. Lord Loughborough first suggested the Prince’s -claim of right; and it was hastily adopted by Mr. Fox, who had returned -from Italy just as the discussion was pending. Mr. Fox’s Libel Bill -places him among the most constitutional of our legislators. He saved -his country from an unnecessary, unjust, and expensive war, by his -exertions on occasion of the Russian Armament. - -The controversy on the Test and Corporation Acts has lost its interest, -from having since been satisfactorily set at rest. But as, in a sketch -like the present, we have more to do with the character of Mr. Fox’s -mind than with his political history, we will here introduce an anecdote -which the writer of this life heard related many years ago, by Dr. -Abraham Rees, well known both in the scientific world, and as a leading -divine in the dissenting interest. We have already spoken of the -intuitive quickness of Mr. Fox’s parts; and the following anecdote will -set that peculiarity in a strong light. - -On the day of the debate, Dr. Rees waited on Mr. Fox with a deputation, -to engage his support in their cause. He received them courteously; but, -though a friend to religious liberty, was evidently unacquainted with -the strong points and principal bearings of their peculiar case. He -listened attentively to their exposition, and, with an eye that looked -them _through and through_, put four or five searching questions. They -withdrew after a short conference, and as they walked up St. James’s -Street, Mr. Fox passed them booted, as going to take air and exercise, -to enable him to encounter the heat of the House and the storm of -debate. From the gallery they saw him enter the House with whip in hand, -as just dismounted. When he rose to speak, he displayed such mastery of -his subject, his arguments and illustrations were so various, his views -so profound and statesman-like, that a stranger must have imagined the -question at issue between the high church party and the dissenters to -have been the main subject of his study throughout life. That his -principles of civil and religious liberty should have enabled him to -declaim in splendid generalities was to be expected; but he entered as -fully and deeply into the fundamental principles and most subtle -distinctions of the question, as did those to whom it was of vital -importance, and that after a short conference of some twenty minutes. - -The French revolution is a topic of such magnitude, that we can only -touch upon Mr. Fox’s opinions and conduct with respect to it. After the -taking of the Bastille, he describes it as “the greatest, and much the -best event that ever happened in the world: all my prepossessions -against French connections for this country will be at an end, and -indeed most part of my European system of politics will be altered, if -this revolution has the consequence that I expect.” But it had not that -consequence; and his views were completely changed by the trial and -execution of the King and Queen of France. But because he did not catch -that contagious disease, made up of alarm and desperate violence, which -involved his country in a disastrous war, he was represented as the -blind apologist of injustice and massacre, as the careless, if not -jacobinical spectator of the downfall of monarchy. Mr. Burke was the -first to quarrel with Mr. Fox, and this quarrel led to the temporary -estrangement from him of many of his oldest and most valuable friends. -But “time and the hour” restored the good understanding between the -members of the party, with the exception of Mr. Burke, who died while -the paroxysm of Antigallican mania was at its height. - -Mr. Fox opposed to the utmost the war, into which the minister was -unwillingly forced. But as his passions became heated, and the -difficulties of his situation increased, Mr. Pitt adopted all Mr. -Burke’s views, and the rash project of a _bellum internecinum_. Both the -public principles and the personal character of Mr. Fox were the subject -of daily calumnies; and the warmth of his early testimony in favour of -the French revolution was continually thrown in his teeth, after the -10th of August, the massacres of September, and the success of -Dumourier. But his whole conduct during this struggle was clear and -consistent. At the dawn of the revolution, he felt and spoke as a -citizen of the world; but he was the last man alive to have merged -patriotism in the vague generalities of universal benevolence. When his -own country became implicated in the strife, he no longer felt and spoke -as a citizen of the world, but as a British statesman; and endeavoured -to persuade his countrymen, not for French interests but for their own, -to stand aloof from continental politics, relying, for the maintenance -of a proud independence and dignified neutrality, on their insular -situation and their wooden walls. His advice was not listened to, and -his mind grew indisposed towards public business. He says in a letter, -dated April, 1795, “I am perfectly happy in the country. I have quite -resources enough to employ my mind, and the great resource of literature -I am fonder of every day.” After making a vigorous, but unsuccessful -opposition to the Treason and Sedition bills, he and his remaining -friends seceded from parliament. He passed the years from 1797 to 1802, -principally in retirement at St. Ann’s Hill; and they were the happiest -of his life. His mornings passed in gardening and farming, his evenings -over books and in conversation with his family and friends. During this -period, his attention was much given to the Greek Tragedies and to -Homer, whom he read not only with the ardent mind of a poet, but with -the microscopic eye of a critic. His correspondence with an eminent -scholar of the time was full of sagacious remarks on the suggestions and -explanations of the commentators, as well as on the text of the poem. At -this time also he conceived the plan of that history of which he left -only a splendid fragment in a state fit for publication. He had been -diligent in collecting materials, and scrupulous in verifying them. His -partiality for the Greek classics followed him into this pursuit, and -probably retarded his progress. He is considered to have taken for his -model Thucydides, a writer strictly impartial in his narrative, grave -even to severity in his style. He went to Paris with Mrs. Fox in the -summer of 1802, partly to satisfy their mutual curiosity after so long -an estrangement from the Continent, but principally for the purpose of -examining the copious materials for the reign of James II. deposited in -the Scotch college there. Every thing was thrown open to him in the most -liberal manner, and, as the unflinching friend of peace through good and -evil report, he was received with enthusiasm both by the people and the -government. He had several interviews with Buonaparte: the chief topics -of their conversation were the concordat, the trial by jury, the -freedom, amounting in the opinion of the First Consul to licentiousness, -of the English press, the difference between Asiatic and European -society. On one occasion he indignantly repelled the charge against Mr. -Windham, of being accessory to the plot of the _infernal machine_, -alleging the utter impossibility of an English gentleman descending to -so disgraceful a device. During his stay in France, he visited La -Fayette at his country seat of La Grange. - -Our limits will not allow us to enter, ever so cursorily, into his -political career after the renewal of the war. His advice was wise, and -consistent with himself; but it was not accepted. The King’s dislike of -him was not to be overcome. The death of Mr. Pitt, however, made the -admission of Mr. Fox and the Whigs, in conjunction with Lord Grenville, -a matter of necessity. Mr. Fox’s desire of peace induced him to take the -office of Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs; and, before his fatal -illness, he had begun a negotiation for that main object of his whole -life, with every apparent prospect of success. The hopes entertained -from his accession to power were prematurely cut off; but his short -career in office was honourably marked by the ministerial measure, -determined on during his life, and carried after his decease, of the -abolition of the Slave Trade. - -The complaint of which he died was dropsy, occasioned probably by the -duties of office, and the fatigue of constant attendance in the House of -Commons, after the comparative seclusion and learned ease in which he -had lived for several years. He expired on the 13th of September, 1806, -with his senses perfect and his understanding unclouded to the last. - -We conclude this brief account of Mr. Fox with the character drawn of -him by one who knew him well, and was fully qualified to appreciate -him,—Sir James Macintosh. - -“Mr. Fox united, in a most remarkable degree, the seemingly repugnant -characters of the mildest of men and the most vehement of orators. In -private life he was gentle, modest, placable, kind, of simple manners, -and so averse from dogmatism, as to be not only unostentatious, but even -something inactive in conversation. His superiority was never felt but -in the instruction which he imparted, or in the attention which his -generous preference usually directed to the more obscure members of the -company. The simplicity of his manners was far from excluding that -perfect urbanity and amenity which flowed still more from the mildness -of his nature, than from familiar intercourse with the most polished -society of Europe. The pleasantry perhaps of no man of wit had so -unlaboured an appearance. It seemed rather to escape from his mind, than -to be produced by it. He had lived on the most intimate terms with all -his contemporaries distinguished by wit, politeness, or philosophy; by -learning, or the talents of public life. In the course of thirty years -he had known almost every man in Europe, whose intercourse could -strengthen, or enrich, or polish the mind. His own literature was -various and elegant. In classical erudition, which by the custom of -England is more peculiarly called learning, he was inferior to few -professed scholars. Like all men of genius, he delighted to take refuge -in poetry, from the vulgarity and irritation of business. His own verses -were easy and pleasant, and might have claimed no low place among those -which the French call _vers de société_. The poetical character of his -mind was displayed by his extraordinary partiality for the poetry of the -two most poetical nations, or at least languages of the west, those of -the Greeks and of the Italians. He disliked political conversation, and -never willingly took any part in it. - -“To speak of him justly as an orator, would require a long essay. Every -where natural, he carried into public something of that simple and -negligent exterior which belonged to him in private. When he began to -speak, a common observer might have thought him awkward; and even a -consummate judge could only have been struck with the exquisite justness -of his ideas, and the transparent simplicity of his manners. But no -sooner had he spoken for some time, than he was changed into another -being. He forgot himself and every thing around him. He thought only of -his subject. His genius warmed and kindled as he went on. He darted fire -into his audience. Torrents of impetuous and irresistible eloquence -swept along their feelings and conviction. He certainly possessed above -all moderns that union of reason, simplicity, and vehemence, which -formed the prince of orators. He was the most Demosthenean speaker since -the days of Demosthenes. ‘I knew him,’ says Mr. Burke, in a pamphlet -written after their unhappy difference, ‘when he was nineteen; since -which time he has risen, by slow degrees, to be the most brilliant and -accomplished debater the world ever saw.’ - -“The quiet dignity of a mind roused only by great objects, the absence -of petty bustle, the contempt of show, the abhorrence of intrigue, the -plainness and downrightness, and the thorough good nature which -distinguished Mr. Fox, seem to render him no unfit representative of the -old English character, which if it ever changed, we should be sanguine -indeed to expect to see it succeeded by a better. The simplicity of his -character inspired confidence, the ardour of his eloquence roused -enthusiasm, and the gentleness of his manners invited friendship. ‘I -admired,’ says Mr. Gibbon, after describing a day passed with him at -Lausanne, ‘the powers of a superior man, as they are blended, in his -attractive character, with all the softness and simplicity of a child: -no human being was ever more free from any taint of malignity, vanity, -or falsehood.’ - -“The measures which he supported or opposed may divide the opinion of -posterity, as they have divided those of the present age. But he will -most certainly command the unanimous reverence of future generations, by -his pure sentiments towards the commonwealth; by his zeal for the civil -and religious rights of all men; by his liberal principles, favourable -to mild government, to the unfettered exercise of the human faculties, -and the progressive civilization of mankind; by his ardent love for a -country, of which the well-being and greatness were, indeed, inseparable -from his own glory; and by his profound reverence for that free -constitution which he was universally admitted to understand better than -any other man of his age, both in an exactly legal and in a -comprehensively philosophical sense.” - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by R. Woodman._ - - BOSSUET. - - _From the original Picture by H. Rigaud, in the Collection of the - Institute of France._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - BOSSUET - - -The life of the Bishop of Meaux, a theologian and polemic familiarly -known to his countrymen as the oracle of their church, forms an -important part of the ecclesiastical history of the seventeenth century. -A short personal memoir of such a man can serve only to excite -curiosity, and in some measure to direct more extended inquiries. - -Jacques-Benigne Bossuet, whose father and ancestors were honourably -distinguished in the profession of the law, was born at Dijon, September -27, 1627. He was placed in his childhood at the college of the Jesuits -in his native town; whence, at the age of fifteen, he was removed to the -college of Navarre in Paris. At both these places his progress as a -student was so rapid that he passed for a prodigy. It may be mentioned, -not more as a proof of precocious intellect than as characteristic of -the times, that soon after his removal to Paris, whither the fame of his -genius had preceded him, he was invited to exhibit his powers as a -preacher at the Hotel de Rambouillet in his sixteenth year. His -performance was received with great approbation. - -In the year 1652 he was ordained priest, and, his talents having already -made him known, he soon after received preferment in the cathedral -church of Metz, of which he became successively canon, archdeacon, and -dean. It was here that he published his Refutation of the Catechism of -Paul Ferri, a protestant divine of high reputation. This was the first -of that series of controversial writings which contributed, more than -all his other works, to procure for him the high authority which he -enjoyed in the church. He came forward in the field of controversy at a -time when public attention was fixed on the subject, and when the -favourite object both with Church and State was the peaceable conversion -of the Protestants. - -Richelieu in the preceding reign had crushed, by the vigour of his -administration, the political power of the Protestant party. He, in -common with many other statesmen, Catholic and Protestant, had conceived -a notion that uniformity of religious profession was necessary to the -tranquillity of the state. But, though unchecked in the prosecution of -his objects by any scruples of conscience or feelings of humanity, he -would have considered the employment of force, where persuasion could be -effectual, to be, in the language of a modern politician, not a crime -but a blunder. When therefore the army had done its work, he put in -action a scheme for reclaiming the Protestants by every species of -politic contrivance. The system commenced by him was continued by -others; and of all those who laboured in the cause, Bossuet was -indubitably the most able and the most distinguished. - -His first effort, the Refutation of the Catechism, recommended him to -the notice of the Queen-Mother; and the favour which he now enjoyed at -court was further increased by the fame of his eloquence in the pulpit, -which he had frequent opportunities of displaying at Paris, whither he -was called from time to time by ecclesiastical business. He was summoned -to preach at the chapel of the Louvre before Louis XIV., who was pleased -to express, in a letter to Bossuet’s father, the great delight which he -received from the sermons of his son; for the versatile taste of the -great monarch enabled him in one hour to recreate himself with the wit -and beauty of his mistresses, and in the next to listen with -undiminished pleasure to the exhortations of a Christian pastor. But -Bossuet had still stronger claims on the gratitude of Louis by -converting to the Roman Catholic faith the celebrated Turenne. This -victory is said to have been achieved by his well-known Exposition, -written in the year 1668, and published in 1671. - -So great was his influence at this time, that he was requested by the -Archbishop of Paris to interfere in one of those many disputes which the -Papal decrees against the tenets of Jansenius occasioned. The nuns of -Port-Royal, who were attached to the doctrine and discipline of the -Jansenists, were required to subscribe the celebrated Formulary, which -selected for condemnation five propositions said to be contained in a -certain huge work of Jansenius. Those excellent women modestly -submitted, that they were ready to accept any doctrine propounded by the -Church, and even to affix their names to the condemnation of the -obnoxious propositions; but that they could not assert that these -propositions were to be found in a book which they had never seen. In -this difficulty the assistance of Bossuet was requested, who, after -several conferences, wrote a long letter to the refractory nuns, highly -commended for its acute logic and sound divinity. Much of the logic and -divinity was probably thrown away upon the persons for whose use they -were intended; but there was one part of the letter sufficiently -intelligible. He congratulated them on their total exemption from all -obligation to examine, and from the task of self-guidance; and assured -them that it was their bounden duty, as well as their happy privilege, -to subscribe and assent to every thing which was placed before them by -authority. The nuns were not convinced. They escaped however for the -present; but in the end they paid dearly for their passive resistance to -the decision of Pope Alexander VII. on a matter of fact. - -In the year 1669, Bossuet was promoted to the bishopric of Condom, which -he resigned the following year on being appointed to the important -office of Preceptor to the Dauphin. - -History has told us nothing of the pupil, but that his capacity was -mean, and his disposition sordid. To him, however, the world is indebted -for the most celebrated of Bossuet’s performances. The Introduction to -Universal History was written expressly for his use; and this masterly -work may serve to confirm an opinion, entertained even by his friends, -that Bossuet was not peculiarly qualified for his situation. To compose -such a work for such a boy was worse than a waste of power. - -Though devoted closely and conscientiously to the duties of his new -office, he was not altogether withdrawn from what might be called his -vocation, the prosecution of controversy. It was during the period of -his connexion with the Court, that his celebrated conference occurred -with the Protestant Claude. Mlle. de Duras, a niece of Turenne, had -conceived scruples respecting the soundness of her Protestant -principles, from the perusal of Bossuet’s ‘Exposition.’ She consulted M. -Claude, who promised to resolve her doubts in the presence of Bossuet -himself. The challenge was accepted, and the memorable conference was -the result. Both parties published an account of it; and their -statements, as might be expected without suspicion of dishonesty on -either side, did not entirely agree. The lady was content to follow the -example of her uncle. - -Bossuet’s engagement with the Dauphin was concluded in the year 1681, -when he was rewarded with the bishopric of Meaux. In so short a memoir -of such a man, where only the most prominent occurrences of his life can -be noticed, there is danger lest the reader should regard him only in -the character of a controversialist, or in the proud station of -acknowledged leader of the Church. It is the more necessary, therefore, -in this place to observe, that, to the comparatively obscure but really -important duties of his diocese, he brought the same zeal and energy -which he displayed on a more conspicuous theatre; and that he could -readily exchange the pen of the polemic for that of the devout and -affectionate pastor. - -Louis, however, was not disposed to leave the Bishop undisturbed in his -retirement. He was soon called forth to be the advocate of his temporal -against his spiritual master. - -The Kings of France had long exercised certain powers in ecclesiastical -matters, which had rather been tolerated than sanctioned by the Popes. -Louis was determined not only to preserve, but considerably to extend, -what his predecessors had enjoyed. Hence a sharp altercation was carried -on for many years between him and the See of Rome. But, in 1682, in -consequence of a threatening brief issued by that haughty pontiff, -Innocent XII., he summoned, by the advice of his clergy, for the purpose -of settling the matters in debate, a general Assembly of the Church. Of -this famous Assembly Bossuet was deservedly regarded as the most -influential member. He opened the proceedings with a sermon, having -reference to the subjects which were to come under consideration. In -this discourse the reader may find, perhaps, some marks of that -embarrassment which he is supposed to have felt. He had the deepest -sense of the unbounded power and awful majesty of kings in general, and -the highest personal veneration for Louis in particular; but then, on -the other hand, the degree of allegiance which he owed to his spiritual -head it was almost impiety to define. So, after having illustrated, with -all the force of his eloquence, the inviolable dignity of the Church, -and fully established the supremacy of St. Peter, he carries up, as it -were in a parallel line, the loftiest panegyric on the monarchy and -monarchs of France. - -The discourse was celebrated for its ability, and without doubt the -conflicting topics were managed with great skill. His difficulties did -not cease with the dismissal of the Assembly. The question of the -Régale, or the right of the King to the revenues of every vacant see, -and to collate to the simple benefices within its jurisdiction, was -settled not at all to the satisfaction of the Pope; and the declaration -of the Assembly, drawn up by Bossuet himself, was fiercely attacked by -the Transalpine divines. It was, of course, as vigorously defended by -its author, who was in consequence accused by all his enemies, and some -of his friends, of having forgotten his duty to the Pope in his -subserviency to the King. - -Nothing wearied by his exertions in the royal cause, he had scarcely -left the Assembly, when he resumed his labours in defence of the Church -against heresy. Several smaller works, put forth from time to time, -seemed to be only a preparation for his great effort in the year 1688, -when he published his ‘History of the Variations in the Protestant -Churches.’ In this book he has made the most of what may be called the -staple argument of the Catholics against the Protestants. - -The course of the narrative has now brought us beyond the period of the -memorable revocation of the Edict of Nantes; and it will naturally be -asked, in what light Bossuet regarded this act of folly and oppression. -Neither his disposition nor his judgment would lead him to approve the -atrocities perpetrated by the government; but, in a letter to the -Intendant of Languedoc, he labours to justify the use of pains and -penalties in enforcing religious conformity; that is, he justifies the -act of Louis XIV. In this matter he was not advanced beyond his times; -but, whatever may have been his theory of the lawfulness of persecution, -his conduct towards the Protestants was such as to obtain for him the -praise even of his opponents. - -Hitherto we have seen Bossuet labouring incessantly to reconcile the -Huguenots of France to the established religion. But, about this time, -he took part in a more grand and comprehensive measure, sanctioned by -the Emperor, and some other sovereign princes of Germany, for the -reunion of the great body of the Lutherans throughout Europe with the -Roman Catholic Church. They engaged the Bishop of Neustadt to open a -communication with Molanus, a Protestant doctor of high reputation in -Hanover. With these negotiators were afterwards joined Leibnitz on the -part of the Protestants, and Bossuet on that of the Roman Catholics. -Between these two great men the correspondence was carried on for ten -years, in a spirit worthy of themselves and the cause in which they were -engaged; and it terminated, as probably they both expected that it would -terminate, in leaving the two Churches in the same state of separation -in which it found them. - -It would have been well for the fame of Bossuet if the course of his -latter days had been marked only by this defeat,—if it had not been -signalized, when grey hairs had increased the veneration which his -genius and services had procured him, by an inglorious victory over a -weak woman, and a friend. The history of Madame Guyon, and the revival -of mysticism under the name of Quietism, principally by her means, will -more properly be found in a Life of Fenelon. The part which Bossuet took -in the proceedings respecting her must be here very briefly noticed. As -universal referee in matters of religion, he was called upon to examine -her doctrines, which began to excite the jealousy of the Church. His -conduct towards her, in the first instance, was mild and forbearing; but -either zeal or anger betrayed him at length into a cruel persecution of -this amiable visionary. Fenelon, who had partly adopted her views of -Christian perfection, and thoroughly admired her Christian character, -was required by Bossuet to surrender to him at once his opinions and his -feelings. Fenelon was willing to do much, but would not consent to -sacrifice his integrity to the offended pride of the irritated prelate. -He defended his opinions in print, and the points in debate were, by his -desire, referred to the Pope; and to him they should in common decency -have been left: but we are disgusted with a detail of miserable -intrigues, carried on in the council appointed by the Pope to examine -the matter, and of vehement remonstrances with which his holiness -himself was assailed, with the avowed object of extorting a reluctant -condemnation. The warmest friends of Bossuet do not attempt to defend -him on the plea that these things were done without his concurrence; -they insist only on his disinterested zeal for religion. But let it be -remembered, that this interference with Papal deliberation proceeded -from one who believed the Vicar of Christ to be solemnly deciding, with -the aid of the Holy Spirit, a point of faith for the benefit of the -whole Catholic Church. Bossuet triumphed; and from that moment sunk -perceptibly in the general esteem of his countrymen. - -During the few remaining years of his life he maintained his wonted -activity, and in his last illness we find with pleasure that the Bible -was his companion, and that he could employ his intervals of repose from -severe suffering in composing a commentary on the 23d psalm. He died -April 12, 1704, in his 76th year. - -The authority which Bossuet acquired was such, that he may be said not -only to have guided the Gallican Church during his life, but in some -measure to have left upon it the permanent impression of his own -character. Of this authority no adequate notion can be formed from the -preceding sketch. Few even of his works, which fill twenty volumes -quarto, have been noticed. It should, however, be mentioned that he was -employed by Louis XIV. in an attempt to overcome the religious scruples -of James II., whose conscience revolted from that exercise of the -prerogative in favour of the Protestant Church, which his restoration to -the throne would have required. The laboured and somewhat extraordinary -letter which Bossuet wrote on this occasion is dated May 22, 1693. - -His countrymen claim for Bossuet an exalted place among historians, -orators, and theologians. The honours bestowed by them on his -‘Introduction to Universal History’ have been continued by more -impartial judges; and, even when unsupported by reference to the age in -which it was written, it stands forth on its own merits as a noble -effort of a comprehensive and penetrating mind. His Funeral Orations -come to us recommended by the judgment of Voltaire, who ascribes to -Bossuet alone, of all his contemporaries, the praise of real eloquence. -The English reader will often be rewarded by passages, which in -oratorical power have seldom been surpassed, and which may induce him to -forgive much that is cold, inflated, and unnatural. But the Orations -must be considered also as Christian discourses delivered by a minister -of the Gospel from a Christian pulpit. They were composed, for the most -part, to grace the obsequies of royal persons, and are, in fact, -dedicated to the honour and glory of kings and princes. A text from -Scripture is the peg on which is hung every thing which can minister to -human pride, and dignify the vanities of a court; and the effect is but -slightly impaired by well-turned phrases, proper to the occasion, on the -nothingness of earthly things. But the orator is not content with -general declamation, with prostrating himself before his magnificent -visions of ancient pedigrees;—he descends to the meanest personal -flattery of the living and the dead. When the Duchess of Orleans was -laid in her coffin, her friends might hope that her frailties would be -buried with her; but they could hardly expect that a Christian monitor -should hold her forth as an exquisite specimen of female excellence, the -glory of France, whom Heaven itself had rescued from her enemies to -present as a precious and inestimable gift to the French nation. But on -this occasion Bossuet was not yet perfect in his art, or the subject was -not sufficiently disgraceful to draw forth all his powers. When -afterwards called to speak over the dead body of the Queen, whose heart -had withered under the wrongs which a licentious husband, amidst -external respect, had heaped upon her, he finds it a fitting opportunity -to pronounce at the same time a panegyric on the King. He recounts the -victories won by the French arms, and ascribes them all to the prowess -of his hero. But Louis is not only the taker of cities, he is the -conqueror of himself; and the royal sensualist is praised for the -government of his passions, the despot for his clemency and justice, and -the grasping conqueror for his moderation. - -The controversial writings of Bossuet deserve more regard than either -his History or his Orations, if the importance of a book is to be -measured by the extent and permanency of its effects. The Exposition of -the Doctrines of the Roman Catholic Church, one of the shortest, but -perhaps the most notable, of his theological works, was published under -circumstances which gave occasion to a story of mysterious suppression -and alteration. But a more serious charge has been brought against the -author, of having deliberately misrepresented the doctrines of his -Church, in order to entrap the Protestants. So grave an accusation ought -not to be lightly entertained; and though suspicion is excited by -symptoms of disingenuous management in the controversy, to which the -publication gave birth; and though it appears to be demonstrable that -the Roman Catholic religion, as commonly professed, and that many of its -doctrines, as expressed or implied in some of its authorised -formularies, differ essentially from the picture which Bossuet has -drawn, yet it should at least be remembered that the book itself was -eventually, though tardily, sanctioned by the highest authority in the -Church. It is possible that Bossuet may by his Exposition have converted -many beside Turenne; but there can be no doubt that he has wrought an -extensive, though a less obvious, change within the bosom of his own -Church. The high authority of his name would give currency to his -opinions on any subject connected with religion; and many sincere Roman -Catholics, who had felt the objections urged against certain practices -and dogmas of their own Church, would rejoice to find, on the authority -of Bossuet, that they were not obliged to own them. - -The charge of insincerity has been extended beyond the particular -instance to the general character of the Bishop; and it has been -asserted that he held, in secret, opinions inconsistent with those which -he publicly professed. This charge, which is destitute of all proof, -seems to have been the joint invention of over-zealous Protestants and -pretended philosophers. - -Enough has been shown to justify us in supposing that he was not one of -those rare characters which can break loose from all the obstacles that -oppose themselves to the simple love and uncompromising search of truth. -Some men, like his illustrious countryman Du Pin, struggle to be free. -It should seem that Bossuet, if circumstances fettered him, would not be -conscious of his thraldom; that he would exert all the energies of his -powerful mind, not to escape from his prison, but to render it a tenable -fortress, or a commodious dwelling. It would be foolish and unjust to -infer from this that he would persevere through life in deliberately -maintaining what he had discovered to be false, on the most momentous of -all subjects. - -A complete catalogue of his works may be found at the end of the Life of -Bossuet in the Biographie Universelle. The Life itself, which is -obviously written by a partial friend, contains much information in a -small compass. The affair of Quietism, and the contest between Bossuet -and Fenelon, are minutely detailed with great accuracy in the Life of -Fenelon by the Cardinal de Bausset, whose impartiality seems to have -been secured by the profound veneration which he entertained for each of -the combatants, though the impression left on the reader’s mind is not -favourable to the character of Bossuet. - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration: LORENZO DE MEDICI.] - - LORENZO DE MEDICI. - - -Among the genealogists who wasted their ingenuity to fabricate an -imposing pedigree for Lorenzo de Medici, some pretended to derive his -origin from the paladins of Charlemagne, and others to trace it to the -eleventh century. But it is well ascertained that his ancestors only -emerged from the inferior orders of the people of Florence in the course -of the fourteenth century, when, by engaging in great commercial -speculations, and by signalizing themselves as partisans of the populace -of that republic, they speedily acquired considerable wealth and -political importance. - -Giovanni di Bicci, his great grandfather, may be regarded as the first -illustrious personage of the family, and as the author of that crafty -system of policy, mainly founded on affability and liberality, by which -his posterity sprung rapidly to overwhelming greatness. By an assiduous -application to trade he made vast additions to his paternal inheritance; -by flattering the passions of the lowest classes he obtained the highest -dignities in the state. He died in 1428, deeply regretted by his party, -and leaving two sons, Cosmo and Lorenzo, from the latter of whom -descended the Grand Dukes of Tuscany. - -Cosmo was nearly forty when he succeeded to the riches and popularity of -his father; and he had not only conducted for several years a commercial -establishment which held counting-houses in all the principal cities of -Europe and in the Levant, but had also participated in the weightier -concerns of government. The form of the Florentine constitution was then -democratical: the nobility had been long excluded from the -administration of the republic; and the citizens, though divided into -twenty-one guilds, or corporations of arts and trades, from seven of -which alone the magistracy were chosen, had, however, an equal share in -the nomination of the magistrates, who were changed every two months. -The lower corporations, owing principally to the manœuvres of Salvestro -de Medici, had risen in 1378 against the higher, demanding a still more -complete equality, and had taken the direction of the commonwealth into -their own hands; but after having raised a carder of wool to the supreme -power, and involved themselves in the evils of anarchy, convinced at -last of their own incapacity, they had again submitted to the wiser -guidance of that kind of burgher-aristocracy which they had subverted; -and that party, headed by the Albizzi and some other families of -distinction, had, ever since 1382, governed the state with unexampled -happiness and glory. The republic had been aggrandized by the important -acquisition of Leghorn, Pisa, Arezzo, and other Tuscan cities; its -agriculture was in the most prosperous condition; its commerce had -received a prodigious developement; its decided superiority in the -cultivation of literature, the sciences, and the arts, had placed it -foremost in the career of European civilization; and its generous but -wise external policy had constituted it as the guardian of the liberties -of Italy. - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by C. E. Wagstaff._ - - LORENZO DE MEDICI. - - _From a Print by Raffaelle Morghen, after a Picture by G. Vasari._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - -To this beneficent administration the aspiring Cosmo had long offered a -troublesome opposition; and he now succeeded in ensnaring it into a -ruinous war with Lucca, by which he obtained the double object of -destroying its popularity, and of employing considerable sums of money -with unusual profit. But the reverses of the republic were attributed to -a treasonable correspondence between him and the enemy, and in 1433 he -was seized and condemned to ten years’ banishment, having averted -capital punishment by a timely bribe. The absence of a citizen who spent -more than a great king in acts of piety, benevolence, and liberality, -was, however, severely felt in the small city of Florence, and the -intelligence of the honours he received everywhere in his exile raised -him still more in public estimation. The number of his friends -increased, indeed, so rapidly, that at the September elections in the -following year they completely defeated the ruling party, and chose a -set of magistrates by whom he was immediately recalled. This event, -erroneously considered as a victory of the people over an aristocracy, -was, properly speaking, a triumph of the populace over the more educated -classes of the community, and it proved fatal to the republic. Placed by -fame, wealth, and talent, at an immeasurable elevation above the obscure -materials of his faction, from the moment of his return to that of his -death, August, 1464, Cosmo exercised such an influence in the state, -that, though he seldom filled any ostensible office, he governed it with -absolute authority by means of persons wholly subservient to his will. -But, under the pretence of maintaining peace and tranquillity, he -superseded its free institutions by a junto invested with dictatorial -power; he caused an alarming number of the most respectable citizens to -be banished, ruined by confiscation, or even put to death, on the -slightest suspicion that by their wealth or connexions they might oppose -his schemes of ambition; and he laboured with indefatigable zeal to -enslave his own confiding countrymen, not only by spreading secret -corruption at home, but also by changing the foreign policy of his -predecessors, and helping his great friend, Francesco Sforza, and other -usurpers, to crush the liberties of neighbouring states. - -Cosmo is nevertheless entitled to the grateful recollections of -posterity for the efficient patronage he afforded learning and the arts, -though he evidently carried it to excess as a means of promoting his -political designs. He was profuse of favours and pensions to all who -cultivated literature or philosophy with success; he bought at enormous -prices whatever manuscripts or masterpieces of art his agents could -collect in Europe or Asia; he ornamented Florence and its environs with -splendid palaces, churches, convents, and public libraries. He died in -the seventy-fifth year of his age, just after a decree of the senate had -honoured him with the title of Father of his country, which was -subsequently inscribed on his tomb. - -Lorenzo de Medici, the subject of the present memoir, was born at -Florence on the 1st of January, 1448. His father was Piero, the son and -successor of Cosmo: his mother, Lucretia Tornabuoni, a lady of some -repute, both as a patroness of learning and as a poetess. He had -scarcely left the nursery when he acquired the first rudiments of -knowledge under the care and tuition of Gentile d’Urbino, afterwards -Bishop of Arezzo. Cristoforo Landino was next engaged to direct his -education; and Argyropylus taught him the Greek language and the -Aristotelian philosophy, whilst Marsilio Ficino instilled into his -youthful mind the precepts and doctrines of Plato. The rapidity of his -proficiency was equal to the celebrity of his masters, and to the -indications of talent that he had given in childhood. Piero, who was -prevented by a precarious state of health from attending regularly to -business, rejoiced at the prospect of soon having in his own son a -strenuous and trusty coadjutor; and on the death of Cosmo, the domestic -education of Lorenzo being completed, he sent him to visit the principal -courts of Italy, in order to initiate him into political life, and to -afford him an opportunity of forming such personal connexions as might -advance the interests of the family. Piero pretended to succeed to -Cosmo’s authority, as if it had been a part of his patrimony; but the -Florentine statesmen, who thought themselves superior to him in age, -capacities, and public services, disdained to pay him the same deference -they had shown the more eminent abilities of his father. Besides, Cosmo -had taken especial care to conciliate the esteem and affection of his -countrymen. He had never refused gifts, loans, or credit to any of the -citizens, and never raised his manners or his domestic establishment -above the simplicity of common life. But Piero seemed to have no regard -for the feelings of others: he ruined several merchants by attempting to -withdraw considerable capital from commerce; he allowed his subordinate -agents to make a most profligate and corrupt monopoly of government; and -he shocked the republican notions of his countrymen by seeking to marry -Lorenzo into a princely family. These causes of discontent arrayed -against him a formidable party, under the direction of Agnolo -Acciajuoli, Niccolo Soderini, and Luca Pitti, the founder of the -magnificent palace, now the residence of the Grand Duke of Tuscany. A -parliament of the people rejected Piero’s proposition of re-appointing -the dictatorial junto, whose power expired in September, 1465. His cause -was evidently lost, had his enemies continued firmly united; but the -defection of the unprincipled Luca Pitti enabled him to recover his -authority, which he soon secured by banishing his opponents, and by -investing five of his dependants with the right of choosing the -magistracy. Lorenzo is said on this occasion to have been of great -assistance to his father; and a letter of Ferdinand, King of Naples, is -still extant, in which that perfidious monarch congratulates him on the -active part he had taken in the triumph, and in the consequent -curtailment of popular rights. - -The populace of Florence were now entertained with splendid festivals, -and with two tournaments, in which Lorenzo and his brother Giuliano bore -away the prizes. These tournaments form an epoch in the history of -literature; the victory of Lorenzo having been commemorated by the -verses of Luca Pulci, and that of Giuliano, by a poem of Politian, which -restored Italian poetry to its former splendour. About this period, -1468, Lorenzo became enamoured, or rather fancied himself enamoured, of -a lady whom he described as prodigiously endowed with all the charms of -her sex, and he strove to immortalize his love in song. But, whether -real or supposed, his passion did not prevent him from marrying Clarice -Orsini, of the famous Roman family of that name. The nuptials were -celebrated on the 4th of June, 1469, on a scale of royal magnificence. - -The death of Piero, which happened about the end of the same year, was -not followed by any interruption of public tranquillity. The republicans -were now either old or in exile; the rising generation grew up with -principles of obedience to the Medici; and Lorenzo was easily -acknowledged as the chief of the state. An attempt at revolution was -made a few months afterwards at Prato, by Bernardo Nardi and some other -Florentine exiles; but the complete inertness of the inhabitants -rendered it unsuccessful. Nardi and six of his accomplices were executed -at Florence; the remainder at Prato. Surrounded by a host of poets, -philosophers, and artists, Lorenzo, however, left the republic under the -misgovernment of its former rulers, whilst he gave himself up to the -avocations of youth, and indulged an extraordinary taste for pompous -shows and effeminate indulgence, which had a most pernicious influence -on the morals of his fellow-citizens. The ostentatious visit which his -infamous friend Galeazzo Sforza paid him in 1471, with a court sadly -celebrated for its corruption and profligacy, is lamented by historians -as one of the greatest disasters that befell the republic. - -Lorenzo went soon afterwards on a deputation to Rome, for the purpose of -congratulating Sixtus IV. on his elevation to the papal chair. He met -with the kindest reception; was made treasurer of the Holy See, and -honoured with other favours; but he could not obtain a cardinal’s hat -for his brother Giuliano. Accustomed to have his wishes readily -gratified, he could not brook the refusal, and he sought his revenge in -constantly thwarting the Pope in his politics, whether they tended to -the advancement of his nephews, or to the liberty and independence of -Italy. A disagreement, which arose in 1472, between the city of Volterra -and the republic of Florence, afforded another instance of the -peremptoriness of his character. He, at first, made some endeavours to -convince the inhabitants of Volterra of their imprudence; but finding -that the exasperated citizens rejected his advice, he prevailed on the -Florentine government to repress them by force, though his uncle Tomaso -Soderini and other statesmen of more experience strongly recommended -conciliatory measures. An army was accordingly sent under the command of -the Count of Urbino, which, after obtaining admission into the -unfortunate city by capitulation, despoiled and plundered its -inhabitants for a whole day. - -Though, on his first succeeding to his father, Lorenzo did not attempt -to exercise the sovereign authority in person, he assumed it by degrees, -in proportion as he advanced in manhood; and he even became so jealous -of all those from whom any rivalry might be feared, that he depressed -them to the utmost of his power. His brother, less ambitious and less -arrogant than himself, tried to stop him in his tyrannical career; but -Giuliano was five years younger: his representations had no effect; and -these vexatious proceedings gave origin to the conspiracy of the Pazzi. -The parties engaged in this famous attempt were several members of the -distinguished family of the Pazzi, whom Lorenzo had injured in their -interests as well as in their feelings; Girolamo Riario, a nephew of the -Pope, whose hatred he had excited by continual opposition to his -designs; Francesco Salviati, Archbishop of Pisa, whom he had prevented -from taking possession of his see; and several other individuals of -inferior note, who were either moved by private or public wrongs. After -vain endeavours to seize the two brothers together, the conspirators -resolved to execute their enterprize in the cathedral of Florence, on -the 26th of April, 1478, in the course of a religious ceremony at which -they were both to be present. At the moment that the priest raised the -host, and all the congregation bowed down their heads, Giuliano fell -under the dagger of Bernardo Bandini, whilst Lorenzo was so fortunate as -to escape, and shut himself up in the sacristy until his friends came to -his assistance. A simultaneous attack on the palace of government failed -of success, and the Archbishop Salviati, who had directed it, was hung -out of the palace windows in his prelatical robes. All those who were -implicated in the conspiracy, or connected in any way with the -conspirators, were immediately put to death. Lorenzo exerted all his -influence to obtain those who had taken refuge abroad; and his wrath was -not appeased until the blood of two hundred citizens was shed. The Pope -pronounced a sentence of excommunication against him and the chief -magistrates for having hanged an archbishop; and sent a crusade of -almost all Italy against the republic, requiring that its leaders should -be given up to suffer for their scandalous misdemeanour. The superior -forces of the enemy ravaged the Florentine territory with impunity: the -people began to murmur against a war in which they were involved for the -sake of an individual; and Lorenzo could not but see that his situation -became every day more critical and alarming. But having been confidently -apprized that Ferdinand was disposed to a reconciliation with him, he -took the resolution of going to Naples, as ambassador of the republic, -in the hope of detaching the King from the league, and of inducing him -to negotiate a peace with the Pope. Through his eloquence and his gold, -he was successful in his mission; and after three months’ absence, at -the beginning of March, 1480, he returned to Florence, where he was -received with the greatest applause and exultation by the populace, to -whom the dangers incurred by him in his embassy had been artfully -exaggerated. - -This ebullition of popular favour encouraged Lorenzo to complete the -consolidation of his power by fresh encroachments on the rights of his -countrymen. In 1481 another plot was formed against him; but his -watchful agents discovered it, and Battista Frescobaldi, with two of his -accomplices, were hanged. Tranquil and secure at home, as well as -peaceful and respected abroad, he now diverted his mind from public -business to literary leisure, and spent his time in the society of men -of talent, in philosophical studies, and in poetical composition. But -his rational enjoyments had a short duration. Early in 1492 he was -attacked by a slow fever, which, combined with his hereditary -complaints, warned him of his approaching end. Having sent to request -the attendance of the famous Savonarola, to whom he was desirous of -making his confession, the austere Dominican readily complied with his -wish, but declared he could not absolve him unless he restored to his -fellow-citizens the rights of which he had despoiled them. To such a -reparation Lorenzo would not consent; and he died without obtaining the -absolution he had invoked. Piero, the eldest of his three sons, was -deprived of the sovereignty in consequence of the reaction that the -eloquent sermons of Savonarola produced in the morals of Florence. -Giovanni, whom Innocent VIII., by a prostitution of ecclesiastical -honours unprecedented in the annals of the church, had raised to the -Cardinalship at the early age of thirteen, became Pope under the name of -Leo X., and gave rise to the Reformation by his extreme profligacy and -extravagance; and Giuliano, who afterwards allied himself by marriage to -the royal House of France, was elevated to the dignity of Duke of -Nemours. - -Lorenzo de Medici has been extolled with immoderate applause as a poet, -a patron of learning, and a statesman. His voluminous poetical -compositions, embracing subjects of love, rural life, philosophy, -religious enthusiasm, and coarse licentiousness, exhibit an uncommon -versatility of genius, a rich imagination, and a remarkable purity of -language; but in spite of the exaggerated eulogies lavished on them by -his own flatterers and by those of his dependants, they never obtained -any popularity, and are now nearly buried in oblivion. His efforts for -the diffusion of knowledge and taste shine more conspicuous; in this -laudable course he followed the traces of Cosmo and of his father. It -is, however, impossible to conceive any strong reverence or respect for -his memory without forgetting his political conduct, which is far from -deserving any praise. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by E. Scriven._ - - GEORGE BUCHANAN. - - _From a Picture by Francis Pourbus Sen. in the possession of the Royal - Society._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - BUCHANAN - - -George Buchanan was born in February, 1506, at a small village called -Killearn, on the borders of Stirlingshire and Dumbartonshire. He came, -as he says, “of a family more gentle and ancient than wealthy.” His -father dying, left a wife and eight children in a state of poverty. -George, one of the youngest, was befriended, and, perhaps, saved from -want and obscurity, by the kindness of his mother’s brother, James -Heriot, who had early remarked his nephew’s talents, and determined to -foster them by a good education. The ancient friendship between France -and Scotland, cemented by their mutual hate of England, was then in full -force. The Scotch respected the superiority of the French in manners, -arts, and learning; and very commonly sent the wealthier and more -promising of their youth to be educated by their more polished -neighbours. Accordingly Buchanan, at the age of fourteen, was sent by -his uncle to the University of Paris. Here he applied himself most -diligently to the prescribed course of study, which consisted -principally in a careful perusal of the best Latin authors, especially -the poets. This kind of learning was peculiarly suited to his taste and -genius; and he made such progress, as not only to become a sound -scholar, but one of the most graceful Latin writers of modern times. - -After having remained in Paris for the space of two years, which he must -have employed to much better purpose than most youths of his age, the -death of his kind uncle reduced him again to poverty. Partly on this -account, partly from ill health, he returned to his own country, and -spent a year at home. Alter having recruited his strength, he entered as -a common soldier into a body of troops that was brought over from France -by John Duke of Albany, then Regent of Scotland, for the purpose of -opposing the English. Buchanan himself says that he went into the army -“to learn the art of war;” it is probable that his needy circumstances -were of more weight than this reason. During this campaign he was -subjected to great hardships from severe falls of snow; in consequence -of which he relapsed into his former illness; and was obliged to return -home a second time, where he was confined to his bed a great part of the -winter. But on his recovery, in the spring of 1524, when he was just -entering upon his 18th year, he again took to his studies, and pursued -them with great ardour. He seems to have found friends at this time rich -enough to send him to the University of St. Andrews, on which foundation -he was entered as a _pauper_, a term which corresponds to the servitor -and sizer of the English Universities. John Mair, better known (through -Buchanan[2]) by his Latinized name of Major, was then reading lectures -at St. Andrews on grammar and logic. He soon heard of the superior -accomplishments of the poor student, and immediately took him under his -protection. Buchanan, notwithstanding his avowed contempt for his old -tutor, must have imbibed from Major many of his opinions. He was of an -ardent temper, and easy, as his contemporaries tell us, to lead -whichever way his friends desired him to go; he was also of an inquiring -disposition, and never could endure absurdities of any kind. This sort -of mind must have found great delight in the doctrines which Major -taught. He affirmed the superiority of general councils over the papacy, -even to the depriving a Pope of his spiritual authority in case of -misdemeanour; he denied the lawfulness of the Pope’s temporal sway; he -held that tithes were an institution of mere human appointment, which -might be dropped or changed at the pleasure of the people; he railed -bitterly against the immoralities and abominations of the Romish -priesthood. In political matters his creed coincides exactly with -Buchanan’s published opinions,—that the authority of kings was not of -divine right, but was solely through the people, for the people; that by -a lawful convention of states, any king, in case of tyranny or -misgovernment, might be controlled, divested of his power, or capitally -executed according to circumstances. But if Major, who was a weak man -and a bad arguer, had such weight with Buchanan, John Knox, the -celebrated Scottish reformer, who was a fellow-student with him at St. -Andrews, must have had still more. They began a strict friendship at -this place, which only ended with their lives. Knox speaks very highly -of him at a late period of his own life: “That notabil man, Mr. George -Bucquhanane, remainis alyve to this day, in the yeir of God 1566 yeares, -to the glory of God, to the gret honor of this natioun, and to the -comfort of thame that delyte in letters and vertew. That singular work -of David’s Psalmes, in Latin meetere and poesie, besyd many uther, can -witness the rare graices of God gevin to that man.” These two men -speedily discovered the absurdity of the art of logic, as it was then -taught. Buchanan tells us that its _proper_ name was the art of -sophistry. Their mutual longings for better reasonings, and better -thoughts to reason upon, produced great effects in the reformation of -their native country. - -Footnote 2: - - See his epigram. “In Johannem solo cognomento Majorem ut ipse in - fionte libri scripsit.” - - Cum scateat nugis solo cognomine Major, - Nec sit in immenso patina sana libro; - Non minem titulis quod se veracibus ornet; - Nec semper mendax fingere Creta solet. - - The book was “ane most fulish tractate on ane most emptie subject.” - -After Buchanan had finished his studies at St. Andrew’s, and taken the -degree of Bachelor of Arts, he accompanied Major to Paris, where his -attention was more seriously turned towards the doctrines of the -reformation, which at that time were eagerly and warmly discussed; but -whether from fear of the consequences, or from other motives, he did not -then declare himself to be a Lutheran. For five years he remained -abroad, sometimes employed, sometimes in considerable want; at the end -of which time he returned to Scotland with the Earl of Cassilis, by whom -he had been engaged as a travelling companion. His noble patron -introduced him at the court of James V. the father of Mary Stuart. James -retained him as tutor to his natural son, James Stuart, afterwards Abbot -of Kelso. It has been proved that he was _not_ tutor to the King’s other -natural son, James Stuart, afterwards Earl of Murray and Regent of -Scotland, whose first title was Prior of St. Andrews. - -While he was at court, having a good deal of leisure, he amused himself -with writing a pretty severe satire on the monks, to which he gives the -name of “Somnium.” He feigns in this piece that Saint Francis d’Assize -had appeared to him in a dream, and besought him to become a monk of his -order. The poet answers, “that he is nowise fit for the purpose; because -he could not find in his heart to become slavish, impudent, deceitful, -or beggarly, and that moreover very few monks had the good fortune, as -he understood, to reach even the gates of paradise.” This short satire -was too well written, and too bitter, to pass unnoticed, and the -sufferers laid their complaint before the king: but as Buchanan’s name -had not been put to it, they had no proof against him, and the matter -dropped. Soon after the Franciscans fell into disgrace at Court; and -James himself instigated the poet to renew the attack. He obeyed, but -did not half satisfy the King’s anger in the light and playful piece -which he produced. On a second command to be still more severe, he -produced his famous satire ‘Franciscanus,’ in which he brings all his -powers of wit and poetry to bear upon the unfortunate brotherhood. The -argument of the poem is as follows:—he supposes that a friend of his is -earnestly desirous to become a Cordelier, upon which he tells him that -he also had had a similar intention, but had been dissuaded from it by a -third person, whose reasons he proceeds to relate. They turn upon the -wretched morals and conduct of those who belonged to the order, as -exhibited in the abominable lessons which he puts in the mouth of an -ancient monk, the instructor of the novices. He does not give this man -the character of a rough and ignorant priest, but makes him tell his -tale cleverly, giving free vent to every refinement in evil which the -age was acquainted with, and speaking the most home truths of his -brethren without fear or scruple. The Latin is pure, and free from the -barbarisms of the time. - -After such a caustic production, it is no wonder that the party assailed -made use of every means to destroy its author. The King, who was a weak -and variable man, after much importunity on their part, allowed them to -have Buchanan arrested in the year 1539, on the plea of heresy, along -with many others who held his opinions about the state of the Scottish -church. Cardinal Beatoun, above all others, used his best endeavours to -procure sentence against him; he even bribed the King to effect his -purpose. But Buchanan’s friends gave him timely warning of the prelate’s -exertions, and, as he was not very carefully guarded, he made his escape -out of the window of his prison, and fled to England. He found, however, -that England was no safe place for him, for at that time Henry VIII. was -burning, on the same day and at the same stake, both protestant and -papist, with the most unflinching impartiality. He went over, therefore, -for the third time into France; but on his arrival at Paris, finding his -old enemy the Cardinal Beatoun ambassador at the French court, and being -fearful that means might be taken to have him arrested, he closed with -the offer of a learned Portuguese, Andrea di Govea, to become a tutor at -the new college at Bourdeaux. During his residence there he composed his -famous Latin Tragedies, ‘Jephthes’ and ‘Joannes Baptistes,’ and -translated the Medea and Alcestis of Euripides into Latin metre, for the -youth of his college. The two latter show that his acquaintance with the -Greek language was by no means superficial. - -After holding this situation for about three years, Buchanan went with -Govea, at the instance of the King of Portugal, to a lately established -school at Coimbra. Before he ventured into Portugal, however, he took -care to let the King know that his Franciscanus was undertaken at the -command of his sovereign, and therefore ought nowise to endanger his -safety in Portugal. The King promised him his protection. But he had not -been at Coimbra long, before he was accused by the monks of heresy, and -the King, forgetting his promise, allowed them to keep Buchanan prisoner -in a convent, as they declared, for the purpose of reclaiming him. They -gave him as a penance the task of translating the Psalms of David from -the Vulgate into Latin verse. This he accomplished to admiration; and -his production is acknowledged to surpass all works of the like sort. -The metres are chiefly lyrical. He was soon after dismissed from prison, -and took ship for England, and staying there but a short time, he -returned again to France. Here the Marechal de Brissac intrusted him -with the education of his son Timoleon de Cossé. While thus employed he -studied, more particularly than he had hitherto done, the controversies -of the day with regard to religion, and became most probably a confirmed -protestant, though he did not openly renounce catholicism till some time -afterwards. He wrote, and dedicated to his pupil, a much admired piece, -entitled ‘Sphœra,’ during his tutorship. In the year 1560 he returned -again to Scotland, the reformed religion being then prevalent there, and -became publicly a member of the Protestant Kirk. - -The most important, because the most public part of Buchanan’s life now -begins. Such a man could not long remain unnoticed by the great in -Scotland, and Mary Stuart herself became one of his best friends. He had -written for her two epithalamia, one on her marriage with the Dauphin, -and one on her marriage with Lord Darnley. Her respect for his abilities -was very great, and she had him appointed tutor to her son a month after -he was born, in the year 1566. - -It is a matter of no small wonder, that Buchanan, who was James’s most -influential tutor, for the three others, who were joined in the -commission with him, were under his superintendence, should have -educated him as he did, or made him what he was. A book which Buchanan -published, and which is among the most famous of his works, ‘De jure -Regni apud Scotos,’ being a conversation between himself and Maitland -the Queen’s secretary, contains (though dedicated to his royal pupil) -sentiments totally at variance with all the notions of James. In it -Buchanan follows the ancient models of what was thought a perfect state -of policy. He proves that men were born to live socially,—that they -elected kings to protect the laws which bind them together,—that if new -laws are made by kings, they must be also subjected to the opinion of -the states of the nation,—that a king is the father of his people for -good, not for evil,—that this was the original intention in the choice -of Scottish kings,—that the crown is not necessarily hereditary, and -that its transmission by natural descent but for its certainty is not -defensible,—that a violation of the laws by the monarch may be punished -even to the death, according to the enormity of it,—that when St. Paul -talks of obedience to authorities he spoke to a low condition of -persons, and to a minority in the various countries in which they -were,—that it is not necessary that a king should be tried by his peers. -He concludes by saying, “that if in other countries the people chose to -exalt their kings above the laws, it seems to have been the evident -intention of Scotland to make her kings inferior to them.” In matters of -religion he rails against episcopal authority of all kinds. Now nothing -can be more opposed than all this to the opinions of James, who most -strongly upheld the divine right of kings, and episcopal authority. -Buchanan, when he was accused of making James a pedant, declared it to -be “because he was fit for nothing else.” He was a stern and unyielding -master, and no sparer of the rod, even though applied to the back of -royalty; and this may in some measure account for the want of influence -which he had over the King’s mind. James advises his son, in his -βασίλικον δῷρον not to attend to the abominable scandals of such men as -Buchanan and Knox, “who are persons of seditious spirit, and all who -hold their opinions.” - -It might have been well, however, for the unfortunate Charles if he had -been rather more swayed by the opinions of the tutor, and less by the -lessons of the pupil. In the early part of Buchanan’s tutorship he -attached himself strongly to the interests of the Regent, Murray; and as -the patron fell off from the interests of Mary, so did the historian, -till at last he became the bitterest of her enemies. He alone has -ventured to assert in print his belief of her criminal connexion with -David Rizzio, in his ‘Detectio Mariæ Reginæ,’ published in 1571; and he -was her great accuser at the court of Elizabeth, when appointed one of -the commissioners to inquire into Mary’s conduct, she being a prisoner -in England. Buchanan too lies under the serious charge of having forged -the controverted letters, supposed to have passed between Mary and her -third husband Bothwell, while she was yet the wife of Earl Darnley, from -which documents it was made to appear that she was art and part in the -murder of her Royal Consort. Whether he really forged these letters or -not, is a question perhaps too deeply buried in the dust of antiquity to -admit of proof. He offered to swear to their genuineness, however, which -was an ill return, if that were all his fault, to the kindness he had -received from her. His friendship for Murray continued firm all his -life; this man was one of the few persons he seems to have been really -attached to. Through the Earl’s interest, Buchanan was made keeper of -the Scottish seals, and a Lord of Session. Nothing is told us of his -abilities as a practical politician, but it may be supposed that he was -fitted for the office he held, for Murray was very careful in the choice -of his public servants. - -Buchanan’s last work, on which he spent the remaining fourteen years of -his life, is yet to be spoken of,—his History of Scotland. In this, -which like the rest of his productions was written in Latin, he has been -said to unite the elegance of Livy with the brevity of Sallust. With -this praise, however, and with that which is due to his lively and -interesting way of relating a story, our commendations of this work must -begin and end. As a history, it is valueless. The early part is a tissue -of fable, without dates or authorities, as indeed he had none to give; -the latter is the work of an acrimonious and able partisan, not of a -calm inquirer and observer of the times in which he lived. The work is -divided into four books. The first three contain a long dissertation on -the derivation of the name of Britain,—a geographical description of -Scotland, with some poetical accounts of its ancient manners and -customs,—a treatise on the ancient inhabitants of Britain, chiefly taken -from the traditionary accounts of the bards, and the fables of the monks -engrafted on them, on the vestiges of ancient religions, and on the -resemblances of the various languages of different parts of the island. -The real history of Scotland does not begin till the fourth book; it -consists of an account of a regular succession of one hundred and eight -kings, from Fergus I. to James VI., a space extending from the beginning -of the sixth century to the end of the sixteenth. The apocryphal nature -of the greater part of these monarchs is now so fully admitted, that it -is unnecessary to dilate upon them. Edward I., as is well known, -destroyed all the genuine records of Scottish history which he could -find. Buchanan, instead of rejecting the absurd traditionary tales of -bards and monks, has merely laboured to dress up a creditable history -for the honour of Scotland, and to “clothe with all the beauties and -graces of fiction, those legends which formerly had only its wildness -and extravagance.” - -This work, and his De jure Regni apud Scotos, he published at the same -time, very shortly before his death; and, while he was on his death-bed, -the Scottish Parliament condemned them both as false and seditious -books. We may lay part of this condemnation to James’s account. It is -not probable that he would allow so much abuse of his mother as they -contained, directly and indirectly, to pass without some public stigma. -There remain to be noticed only two small pieces of this author in the -Scottish language, one a grievous complaint to the Scottish peers, -arising from the assassination of the Earl of Murray; the other, a -severe satire against Secretary Maitland, for the readiness with which -he changed from party to party: this has the title of ‘Chameleon.’ - -Buchanan died at the good old age of seventy-four, in his dotage as his -enemies said, but in full vigour of mind as his last great work, his -History, has proved. Much has been said in his dispraise by enemies of -every class, his chief detractors being the partisans of Mary Stuart and -the Romish priesthood. The first of these accuse him of ingratitude to -Major, Mary, Morton, Maitland, and to others of his benefactors; of -forging the letters above-mentioned, and of perjury in offering to swear -to them. The latter accuse him of licentiousness, of drunkenness, and -falsehood; and one of them has descended so far as to quarrel with his -personal ugliness. Of these charges many are, to say the least, -unproved; many appear to be altogether untrue. But his fame rests rather -on his persevering industry, his excellent scholarship, and his fine -genius, than upon his moral qualities. Buchanan wrote his own life in -Latin two years before his death. To this work, to Mackenzie’s ‘Lives -and Characters of the most eminent writers of the Scots Nation,’ to the -Biographia Britannica, and the numerous authorities on insulated points -there quoted, we may refer those who wish to pursue this subject. -Buchanan’s works were collected and edited by the grammarian Ruddiman, -and printed by Freebairn, at Edinburgh, in the year 1715, in two -volumes, folio. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by J. Thomson._ - - FÉNÉLON. - - _From the original Picture by Vivien in the Collection at the Louvre._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - FENELON - - -Francois de Salignac de Lamothe-Fenelon was born August 6th, 1651, at -the Castle of Fenelon, of a noble and ancient family in the province of -Perigord. - -Early proofs of talent and genius induced his uncle, the Marquis de -Fenelon, a man of no ordinary merit, to take him under his immediate -care and superintendence. By him he was placed at the seminary of St. -Sulpice, then lately founded in Paris for the purpose of educating young -men for the church. - -The studies of the young Abbé were not encouraged by visions of a stall -and a mitre. It seems that the object of his earliest ambition was, as a -missionary, to carry the blessings of the Gospel to the savages of North -America, or to the Mahometans and heretics of Greece and Anatolia. The -fears, however, or the hopes of his friends detained him at home, and -after his ordination he confined himself for several years to the duties -of the ministry in the parish of St. Sulpice. - -At the age of twenty-seven he was appointed superior of a society which -had for its object the instruction and encouragement of female converts -to the Church of Rome; and from this time he took up his abode with his -uncle. In this house he first became known to Bossuet, by whose -recommendation he was intrusted with the conduct of a mission, charged -with the duty of reclaiming the Protestants in the province of Poitou, -in the memorable year 1685, when the Huguenots were writhing under the -infliction of the dragonnade, employed by the government to give full -effect to the revocation of the edict of Nantes. Fenelon had no mind to -have dragoons for his coadjutors, and requested that all show of martial -terror might be removed from the places which he visited. His future -proceedings were in strict conformity with this gentle commencement, and -consequently exposed him to the harassing remonstrances of his -superiors. - -His services in Poitou were not acknowledged by any reward from the -government, for Louis XIV. had begun to look coldly upon him; but it was -not his fortune to remain long in obscurity. Amongst the visitors at his -uncle’s house, whose friendship he had the happiness to gain, was the -Duke de Beauvilliers, a man who could live at the court of Louis without -ceasing to live as a Christian. This nobleman was appointed in the year -1689 Governor of the Duke of Burgundy, the grandson of Louis, and heir, -after his father the Dauphin, to the throne of France. His first act was -to appoint Fenelon preceptor to his royal charge, then in his eighth -year, and already distinguished for the frightful violence of his -passions, his insolent demeanour, and tyrannical spirit. The child had, -however, an affectionate heart and a quick sense of shame. Fenelon -gained his love and confidence, and used his power to impress upon him -the Christian’s method of self-government. His headstrong pupil was -subdued, not by the fear of man, but by the fear of God. In the task of -instruction less difficulty awaited him; for the young prince was -remarkably intelligent and industrious. The progress of a royal student -is likely to be rated at his full amount by common fame; but there is -reason to believe that in this case it was rapid and substantial. - -In 1694 he was presented to the Abbey of St. Valery, and two years -afterwards promoted to the Archbishopric of Cambray, with a command that -he should retain his office of preceptor, giving personal attendance -only during the three months of absence from his diocese which the -Canons allowed. In resigning his abbey, which from conscientious motives -he refused to keep with his archbishopric, he was careful to assign such -reasons as might not convey an indirect censure of the numerous -pluralists among his clerical brethren. Probably this excess of -delicacy, which it is easy to admire and difficult to justify, was -hardly requisite in the case of many of the offenders. One of them, the -Archbishop of Rheims, when informed of the conscientious conduct of -Fenelon, made the following reply: “M. de Cambray with his sentiments -does right in resigning his benefice, and I with my sentiments do very -right in keeping mine.” This mode of defence is capable of very general -application, and is in fact very generally used, being good for other -cases beside that of pluralities. - -This preferment was the last mark of royal favour which he received. -Louis was never cordially his friend, and there were many at court eager -to convert him into an enemy. An opportunity was afforded by Fenelon’s -connexion with Madame Guyon. - -It is well known that this lady was the great apostle of the Quietists, -a sect of religionists, so called, because they studied to attain a -state of perfect contemplation, in which the soul is the passive -recipient of divine light. She was especially noted for her doctrine of -pure love; she taught that Christian perfection consisted in a -disinterested love of God, excluding the hope of happiness and fear of -misery, and that this perfection was attainable by man. Fenelon first -became acquainted with her at the house of his friend the Duke de -Beauvilliers, and, convinced of the sincerity of her religion, was -disposed to regard her more favourably from a notion that her religious -opinions, against which a loud clamour had been raised, coincided very -nearly with his own. It has been the fashion to represent him as her -convert and disciple. The truth is, that he was deeply versed in the -writings of the later mystics; men who, with all their extravagance, -were perhaps the best representatives of the Christian character to be -found among the Roman Catholics of their time. He considered the -doctrine of Madame Guyon to be substantially the same with that of his -favourite authors; and whatever appeared exceptionable in her -expositions, he attributed to loose and exaggerated expression natural -to her sex and character. - -The approbation of Fenelon gave currency to the fair Quietist amongst -orthodox members of the church. At last the bishops began to take alarm: -the clamour was renewed, and the examination of her doctrines solemnly -intrusted to Bossuet and two other learned divines. Fenelon was avowedly -her friend; yet no one hitherto had breathed a suspicion of any flaw in -his orthodoxy. It was even during the examination, and towards the close -of it, that he was promoted to the Archbishopric of Cambray. The blow -came at length from the hand of his most valued friend. He had been -altogether passive in the proceedings respecting Madame Guyon. Bossuet, -who had been provoked into vehement wrath, and had resolved to crush -her, was sufficiently irritated by this temperate neutrality. But when -Fenelon found himself obliged to publish his ‘Maxims of the Saints,’ in -which, without attacking others, he defends his own views of some of the -controverted points, Bossuet, in a tumult of zeal, threw himself at the -feet of Louis, denounced his friend as a dangerous fanatic, and besought -the King to interpose the royal arm between the Church and pollution. -Fenelon offered to submit his book to the judgment of the Pope. -Permission was granted in very ungracious terms, and presently followed -by a sentence of banishment to his diocese. This sudden reverse of -fortune, which he received without even whispering a complaint, served -to show the forbearance and meekness of his spirit, but it deprived him -of none of his powers. An animated controversy arose between him and -Bossuet, and all Europe beheld with admiration the boldness and success -with which he maintained his ground against the renowned and veteran -disputant; and that, too, in the face of fearful discouragement. The -whole power of the court was arrayed against him, and he stood alone; -for his powerful friends had left his side. The Cardinal de Noailles and -others, who had in private expressed unqualified approbation of his -book, meanly withheld a public acknowledgment of their opinions. Whilst -his enemy enjoyed every facility, and had Louis and his courtiers and -courtly bishops to cheer him on, it was with difficulty that Fenelon -could find a printer who would venture to put to the press a work which -bore his name. Under these disadvantages, harassed in mind, and with -infirm health, he replied to the deliberate and artful attacks of his -adversary with a rapidity which, under any circumstances, would have -been astonishing. He was now gaining ground daily in public opinion. The -Pope also, who knew his merit, was very unwilling to condemn. His -persecutors were excited to additional efforts. He had already been -banished from court; now he was deprived of the name of preceptor, and -of his salary,—of that very salary which some time before he had eagerly -offered to resign, in consideration of the embarrassed state of the -royal treasury. The flagging zeal of the Pope was stimulated by threats -conveyed in letters from Louis penned by Bossuet. At length the sentence -of condemnation was obtained; but in too mild a form to satisfy -altogether the courtly party. No bull was issued. A simple brief -pronounced certain propositions to be erroneous and dangerous, and -condemned the book which contained them, without sentencing it in the -usual manner to the flames. - -It is needless to say that Fenelon submitted. He published without delay -the sentence of condemnation, noting the selected propositions, and -expressing his entire acquiescence in the judgment pronounced; and -prohibited the faithful in his diocese from reading or having in their -possession his own work, which up to that moment he had defended so -manfully. Protestants, who are too apt in judging the conduct of Roman -Catholics, to forget every thing but their zeal, have raised an outcry -against his meanness and dissimulation. Fenelon was a sincere member of -a Church which claimed infallibility. We may regret the thraldom in -which such a mind was held by an authority from which the Protestant -happily is free; but the censure which falls on him personally for this -act is certainly misplaced. - -The faint hopes which his friends might have cherished, that when the -storm had passed he would be restored to favour, were soon extinguished -by an event, which, whilst it closed against him for ever the doors of -the palace, secured him a place in history, and without which it is -probable that he would never have become the subject even of a short -memoir. - -A manuscript which he had intrusted to a servant to copy, was -treacherously sold by this man to a printer in Paris, who immediately -put it to the press, under the title of Continuation of the Fourth Book -of the Odyssey, or Adventures of Telemachus, Son of Ulysses, with the -royal privilege, dated April 6, 1699. It was told at court that the -forthcoming work was from the pen of the obnoxious archbishop; and -before the impression of the first volume was completed, orders were -given to suppress it, to punish the printers, and seize the copies -already printed. A few however escaped the hands of the police, and were -rapidly circulated. One of them, together with a copy of the remaining -part of the manuscript, soon after came into the possession of a printer -at the Hague, who could publish it without danger. - -So eager was the curiosity which the violent proceedings of the French -court had excited, that the press could hardly be made, with the utmost -exertion, to keep pace with the demand. Such is the history of the first -appearance of Telemachus. - -Louis was persuaded to think that the whole book was intended to be a -satire on him, his court, and government; and the world was persuaded -for a time to think the same. So, whilst the wrath of the King was -roused to the uttermost, all Europe was sounding forth the praises of -Fenelon. The numerous enemies of Louis exulted at the supposed -exhibition of his tyranny and profligate life. The philosophers were -charmed with the liberal and enlightened views of civil government which -they seemed to discover. It is now well known that the anger and the -praise were alike undeserved. The book was probably written for the use -of the Duke of Burgundy, certainly at a time when Fenelon enjoyed the -favour of his sovereign, and was desirous to retain it. He may have -forgotten that it was impossible to describe a good and a bad king, a -virtuous and a profligate court, without saying much that would bear -hard upon Louis and his friends. As for his political enlightenment, it -is certain that he had his full share of the monarchical principles of -his time and nation. He wished to have good kings, but he made no -provision for bad ones. It is difficult to believe that Louis was -seriously alarmed at his notions of political economy. That science was -not in a very advanced state; but no one could fear that a prince could -be induced by the lessons of his tutor to collect all the artificers of -luxury in his capital, and drive them in a body into the fields to -cultivate potatoes and cabbages, with a belief that he would thus make -the country a garden, and the town a seat of the Muses. - -Nothing was now left to Fenelon but to devote himself to his episcopal -duties, which he seems to have discharged with equal zeal and ability. -The course of his domestic life, as described by an eyewitness, was -retired, and, to a remarkable degree, uniform. Strangers were -courteously and hospitably received; but his society was confined for -the most part to the ecclesiastics who resided in his house. Amongst -them were some of his own relations, to whom he was tenderly attached, -but for whose preferment, it should be noticed, he never manifested an -unbecoming eagerness. His only recreation was a solitary walk in the -fields, where it was his employment, as he observes to a friend, to -converse with his God. If in his rambles he fell in with any of the -poorer part of his flock, he would sit with them on the grass, and -discourse about their temporal as well as their spiritual concerns; and -sometimes he would visit them in their humble sheds, and partake of such -refreshment as they offered him. - -In the beginning of the 18th century we find him engaged at once in -controversy and politics. The revival of the old dispute with the -Jansenists, to whom he was strongly opposed, obliged him to take up his -pen; but in using it he never forgot his own maxim, that “rigour and -severity are not of the spirit of the Gospel.” For a knowledge of his -political labours we are indebted to his biographer, the Cardinal de -Bausset, who first published his letters to the Duke de Beauvilliers on -the subject of the war which followed the grand alliance in the year -1701. In them he not only considers the general questions of the -succession to the Spanish monarchy, the objects of the confederated -powers, and the measures best calculated to avert or soften their -hostility, but even enters into details of military operations, -discusses the merits of the various generals, stations the different -armies, and sketches a plan of the campaign. Towards the close of the -war he communicated to the Duke de Chevreuse heads of a very extensive -reform in all the departments of government. This reform did not suppose -any fundamental change of the old despotism. It was intended, doubtless, -for the consideration of the Duke of Burgundy, to whose succession all -France was looking forward with sanguine hopes, founded on the -acknowledged excellence of his character, which Fenelon himself had so -happily contributed to form. But amongst the other trials which visited -his latter days, he was destined to mourn the death of his pupil. - -Fenelon did not long survive the general pacification. After a short -illness and intense bodily suffering, which he seems to have supported -by calling to mind the sufferings of his Saviour, he died February 7th, -1715, in the sixty-fourth year of his age. No money was found in his -coffers. The produce of the sale of his furniture, together with the -arrears of rent due to him, were appropriated, by his direction, to -pious and charitable purposes. - -The calumnies with which he was assailed during the affair of Quietism -were remembered only to the disadvantage of their authors. The public -seem eventually to have regarded him as a man who was persecuted because -he refused to be a persecutor; who had maintained, at all hazards, what -he believed to be the cause of truth and justice; and had resigned his -opinion only at that moment when conscience required the sacrifice. - -Universal homage was paid by his contemporaries to his talents and -genius. In the grasp and power of his intellect, and in the extent and -completeness of his knowledge, none probably would have ventured to -compare him with Bossuet; but in fertility and brilliancy of -imagination, in a ready and dexterous use of his materials, and in that -quality which his countrymen call esprit, he was supposed to have no -superior. Bossuet himself said of him “Il brille d’esprit, il est tout -esprit, il en a bien plus que moi.” - -It is obvious that his great work, the Adventures of Telemachus, was, in -the first instance, indebted for some portion of its popularity to -circumstances which had no connexion with its merits; but we cannot -attribute to the same cause the continued hold which it has maintained -on the public favour. Those who are ignorant of the interest which -attended its first appearance still feel the charm of that beautiful -language which is made the vehicle of the purest morality and the most -ennobling sentiments. In the many editions through which it passed, -between its first publication and the death of the author, Fenelon took -no concern. Publicly he neither avowed nor disavowed the work, though he -prepared corrections and additions for future editors. All obstacles to -its open circulation were removed by the death of Louis; and in the year -1717, the Marquis de Fenelon, his great-nephew, presented to Louis XV. a -new and correct edition, superintended by himself, from which the text -of all subsequent editions has been taken. - -The best authority for the life of Fenelon accessible to the public is -the laborious work of his biographer, the Cardinal de Bausset, which is -rendered particularly valuable by the great number of original documents -which appear at the end of each volume. Its value would be increased if -much of the theological discussion were omitted, and the four volumes -compressed into three. - - - - -[Illustration] - - WREN - - -Christopher Wren, the most celebrated of British architects, was born at -East Knoyle in Wiltshire, October 20, 1632. His father was Rector of -that parish, Dean of Windsor, and Registrar of the Order of the Garter: -his uncle, Dr. Matthew Wren, was successively Bishop of Hereford, of -Norwich, and of Ely; and was one of the greatest sufferers for the royal -cause during the Commonwealth, having been imprisoned nearly twenty -years in the Tower without ever having been brought to trial. The -political predilections of Wren’s family may be sufficiently understood -from these notices; but he himself, although his leaning probably was to -the side which had been espoused by his father and his uncle, seems to -have taken no active part in state affairs. The period of his long life -comprehended a series of the mightiest national convulsions and changes -that ever took place in England—the civil war—the overthrow of the -monarchy—the domination of Cromwell—the Restoration—the Revolution—the -union with Scotland—and, finally, the accession of a new family to the -throne; but we do not find that in the high region of philosophy and art -in which he moved, he ever allowed himself to be either withdrawn from -or interrupted in his course by any of these great events of the outer -world. - -His health in his early years was extremely delicate. On this account he -received the commencement of his education at home under the -superintendence of his father and a domestic tutor. He was then sent to -Westminster School, over which the celebrated Busby had just come to -preside. The only memorial which we possess of Wren’s schoolboy days, is -a dedication in Latin verse, addressed by him to his father in his -thirteenth year, of an astronomical machine which he had invented, and -which seems from his description to have been a sort of apparatus for -representing the celestial motions, such as we now call an orrery. His -genius is also stated to have displayed itself at this early age in -other mechanical contrivances. - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by W. Holl._ - - SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN. - - _From the original picture by Sir G. Kneller, in the possession of the - Royal Society._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - -In 1646 he was sent to Oxford, and entered as a gentleman commoner at -Wadham College. Of his academical life we can say little more than that -it confirmed the promise of his early proficiency. He was especially -distinguished by his mathematical acquirements, and gained the notice -and acquaintance of many of the most learned and influential persons -belonging to the university. Several short treatises and mechanical -inventions are assigned to this period of his life: but as these have -long ceased to interest any but curious inquirers into the history of -literature or science, we can only indicate their existence, and refer -to other and more comprehensive works. In 1650 Wren graduated as -Bachelor of Arts. He was elected Fellow of All Souls on the 2d of -November, 1653, and took the degree of Master of Arts on the 12th of -December in the same year. Of the subjects which engaged his active and -versatile mind at this time, one of the chief was the science of -Anatomy; and he is, on apparently good grounds, thought to have first -suggested and tried the interesting experiment of injecting liquids of -various kinds into the veins of living animals,—a process of surgery, -which, applied to the transfusion of healthy blood into a morbid or -deficient circulation, has been revived, not without some promise of -important results, in our own day. Another subject which attracted much -of his attention was the Barometer; but he has no claim whatever, either -to the invention of that instrument, or to the detection of the great -principle of physics, of which it is an exemplification. The notion -which has been taken up of his right to supplant the illustrious -Torricelli here, has arisen merely from mistaking the question with -regard to the causes of the fluctuations in the height of the -barometrical column, while the instrument continues in the same place, -for the entirely different question as to the cause why the fluid -remains suspended at all; about which, since the celebrated experiments -of Pascal, published in 1647, there never has been any controversy. It -was the former phenomenon only which was attributed by some to the -influence of the moon, and which Wren and many of his contemporaries -exercised their ingenuity, as many of their successors have done, in -endeavouring to explain. - -In carrying on these investigations and experiments, Wren’s diligence -was stimulated and assisted by his having been admitted a member, about -this period, of that celebrated association of philosophical inquirers, -out of whose meetings, begun some years before, eventually arose the -Royal Society. But, like several others of the more eminent members, he -was soon removed from the comparative retirement of Oxford. On the 7th -of August, 1657, being then only in his twenty-fifth year, he was chosen -to the Professorship of Astronomy in Gresham College. This chair he held -till the 8th of March, 1661, when he resigned it in consequence of -having, on the 31st of January preceding, received the appointment of -Savilian Professor of Astronomy at Oxford. On the 12th of September, -1661, he took his degree of Doctor of Civil Law at Oxford, and was soon -after admitted _ad eundem_ by the sister university. During all this -time he had continued to cultivate assiduously the various branches of -mathematical and physical science, and to extend his reputation both by -his lectures and by his communications to the “Philosophical Club,” as -it was called, which, in 1658, had been transferred to London, and -usually met on the Wednesday of every week at Gresham College, in Wren’s -class-room, and, on the Thursday, in that of his associate Rooke, the -Professor of Geometry. The longitude, the calculation of solar eclipses, -and the examination and delineation of insects and animalcula by means -of the microscope, may be enumerated among the subjects to which he is -known to have devoted his attention. On the 15th of July, 1662[3], he -and his associates were incorporated under the title of the Royal -Society; and Wren, who drew out the preamble of the charter, bore a -chief part in the effecting of this arrangement. - -Footnote 3: - - In the Life of Boyle this event is stated to have occurred in 1663. A - _second_ charter was granted to the Society, in that year, on the 22d - of April. - -The future architect of St. Paul’s had already been called upon to -devote a portion of his time to the professional exercise of that art -from which he was destined to derive his greatest and most lasting -distinction. Sir John Denham, the poet, had on the Restoration been -rewarded for his services by the place of Surveyor of the Royal Works; -but although, in his own words, he then gave over poetical lines, and -made it his business to draw such others as might be more serviceable to -his Majesty, and he hoped more lasting, it soon became apparent that his -genius was much better suited to “build the lofty rhyme” than to -construct more substantial edifices. In these circumstances Wren, who -was known among his other accomplishments to be well acquainted with the -principles of architecture, was sent for, and engaged to do the duties -of the office in the capacity of Denham’s assistant or deputy. This was -in the year 1661. It does not appear that for some time he was employed -in any work of consequence in his new character; and in 1663 it was -proposed to send him out to Africa, to superintend the construction of a -new harbour and fortifications at the town of Tangier, which had been -recently made over by Portugal to the English Crown, on the marriage of -Charles with the Infanta Catherine. This employment he wisely declined, -alleging the injury he apprehended to his health from a residence in -Africa. Meanwhile, the situation which he held, and his scientific -reputation, began to bring him something to do at home. Sheldon, -Archbishop of Canterbury, who was Chancellor of the University of -Oxford, had resolved to erect at his own expense a new theatre, or hall, -for the public meetings of the University; and this building Wren was -commissioned to design. The Sheldonian Theatre, celebrated for its -unrivalled roof of eighty feet in length by seventy in breadth, -supported without either arch or pillar, was Wren’s first public work, -having been begun this year, although it was not finished till 1668. -About the same time he was employed to erect a new chapel for Pembroke -College, in the University of Cambridge, to be built at the charge of -his uncle, the Bishop of Ely. - -But, while he was about to commence these buildings, he was appointed to -take a leading part in another work, which ultimately became the -principal occupation of the best years of his life, and enabled him to -afford to his contemporaries and to posterity by far the most -magnificent display of his architectural skill and genius. Ever since -the Restoration, the repair of the Metropolitan Cathedral of St. Paul’s, -which during the time of the Commonwealth had been surrendered to the -most deplorable desecration and outrage, had been anxiously -contemplated; and on the 18th of April, 1663, letters patent were at -length issued by the King, appointing a number of Commissioners, among -whom Wren was one, to superintend the undertaking. Under their direction -a survey of the state of the building was taken, and some progress was -made in the reparation of its most material injuries, when, after the -sum of between three and four thousand pounds had been expended, the -great fire, which broke out on the night of Sunday, the 2d of September, -1666, on the following day reduced the whole pile to a heap of ruins. - -A considerable part of the year before this Wren had spent in Paris, -having proceeded thither, it would seem, about Midsummer, 1665, and -remained till the following spring. The object of his visit was to -improve himself in the profession in which he had embarked, by the -inspection and study of the various public buildings which adorned the -French capital, where the celebrated Bernini was at this time employed -on the Louvre, with a thousand workmen under him, occupied in all the -various departments of the art, and forming altogether, in Wren’s -opinion, probably the best school of architecture to be then found in -Europe. He appears accordingly to have employed his time, with his -characteristic activity, in examining everything deserving of attention -in the city and its neighbourhood; and lost no opportunity either of -making sketches of remarkable edifices himself, or of procuring them -from others, so that, as he writes to one of his correspondents, he -hoped to bring home with him almost all France on paper. The terrible -visitation, which a few months after his return laid half the metropolis -of his native country in ashes, opened to him a much wider field whereon -to exercise the talent which he had been thus eager to cultivate and -strengthen by enlarged knowledge, than he could, while so engaged, have -expected ever to possess. He was not slow to seize the opportunity; and -while the ashes of the city were yet alive, drew up a plan for its -restoration, the leading features of which were a broad street running -from Aldgate to Temple Bar, with a large square for the reception of the -new cathedral of St. Paul; and a range of handsome quays along the -river. The paramount necessity of speed in restoring the dwellings of a -houseless multitude, prevented the adoption of this project; and the new -streets were in general formed nearly on the line of the old ones. But -they were widened and straightened, and the houses were built of brick -instead of wood. - -Soon after the fire, Wren was appointed Surveyor-General and principal -Architect for rebuilding the parish churches; and on the 28th of March, -1669, a few days after the death of Sir John Denham, he was made -Surveyor-General of the Royal Works, the office which he had for some -time executed as deputy. On the 30th of July he was unanimously chosen -Surveyor-General of the repairs of St. Paul’s (another office which -Denham had also held) by the commissioners appointed to superintend that -work, of whom he was himself one. At first it was still thought possible -to repair the cathedral; and a part of it was actually fitted up as a -temporary choir, and service performed in it. After some time, however, -it became evident that the only way in which it could ever be restored -was by rebuilding the whole from the foundation. Before the close of the -year 1672 Wren had prepared and submitted to the King different plans -for the new church; and his Majesty having fixed upon the one which he -preferred, a commission for commencing the work was issued on the 12th -of November, 1673. On the 20th of the same month, Wren, who had been -re-appointed architect for the work, and also one of the commissioners, -was knighted at Whitehall, having resigned his professorship at Oxford -in the preceding April. - -During the space of time which had elapsed since the fire, the -Surveyor-General of Public Works had begun or finished various minor -buildings connected with the restoration of the city, and also some in -other parts of the kingdom. Among the former may be mentioned the fine -column called the Monument; the church of St. Mary-le-Bow in Cheapside, -the spire of which is considered the most beautiful he ever constructed, -and a masterpiece of science, both begun in 1671, and finished in 1677; -and the church of St. Stephens, Walbrook, begun 1672, and finished in -1679, the interior of which is one of the most exquisite specimens of -architectural art which the world contains, and has excited, perhaps, -more enthusiastic admiration than anything else that Wren has done. -During the whole of this time, too, notwithstanding the little leisure -which his professional avocations must have left him, he appears to have -continued his philosophical pursuits, and his attendance on the Royal -Society, of which, from the first, he had been one of the most active -and valuable members. His communications, and the experiments which he -suggested, embraced some of the profoundest parts of astronomy and the -mathematics, as well as various points in anatomy and natural history, -and the chemical and mechanical arts. - -The design which Wren had prepared for the new Cathedral, and which had -been approved by the King, being that of which a model is still -preserved in an apartment over the Morning-Prayer Chapel, did not in -some respects please the majority of his brother-commissioners, who -insisted that, in order to give the building the true cathedral form, -the aisles should be added at the sides as they now stand, although the -architect is said to have felt so strongly the injury done by that -alteration, that he actually shed tears in speaking of it. This -difficulty, however, being at length settled, his Majesty, on the 14th -May, 1675, issued his warrant for immediately commencing the work; and -accordingly, after a few weeks more had been spent in throwing down the -old walls and removing the rubbish, the first stone was laid by Sir -Christopher, assisted by his master-mason, Mr. Thomas Strong, on the -21st of June. From this time the building proceeded steadily till its -completion in 1710; in which year the highest stone of the lantern on -the cupola was laid by Mr. Christopher Wren, the son of the architect, -as representing his venerable father, now in the seventy-eighth year of -his age. - -The salary which Sir Christopher Wren received as architect of St. -Paul’s was only £200 a year. Yet in the last years of his -superintendence a moiety of this pittance was withheld from him by the -Commissioners, under the authority of a clause which they had got -inserted in an act of parliament entitling them to keep back the money -till the work should be finished, by way of thereby ensuring the -requisite expedition in the architect. Even after the building had been -actually completed, they still continued, on the same pretence, to -refuse payment of the arrears due, alleging that certain things yet -remained to be done, which, after all, objections and difficulties -interposed by themselves alone prevented from being performed. Like his -great predecessor, Michael Angelo, Wren was too honest and zealous in -the discharge of his duty not to have provoked the enmity of many -persons who had their private ends to serve in the discharge of a great -public duty. He was at last obliged to petition the Queen on the subject -of the treatment to which he was subjected; but it was not till after a -struggle of some years that he succeeded in obtaining redress. The -faction by whom he was thus opposed even attempted to blacken his -character by a direct charge of peculation, or at least of connivance at -that crime, in a pamphlet entitled ‘Frauds and Abuses at St. Paul’s,’ -which appeared in 1712, and in reference to which Sir Christopher deemed -it proper to appeal to the public in an anonymous reply published the -year after, wherein he vindicated himself triumphantly from the -aspersions which had been thrown upon him. - -The other architectural works which he designed and executed during this -period, both in London and elsewhere, are far too numerous to be -mentioned in detail. Among them were the parish church of St. Bride, in -Fleet Street, which was finished in 1680, and the beautiful spire of -which, originally two hundred and thirty-four feet in height, has been -deemed to rival that of St. Mary-le-Bow; the church of St. James, -Westminster, finished in 1683, a building in almost all its parts not -more remarkable for its beauty than for its scientific construction; and -of which the roof especially, both for its strength and elegance, and -for its adaptation to the distinct conveyance of sound, has been -reckoned a singularly happy triumph of art; and the church of St. -Andrew, Holborn, a fine specimen of a commodious and an imposing -interior: besides many others of inferior note. In 1696 he commenced the -building of the present Hospital at Greenwich, of which he lived to -complete the greater part. This is undoubtedly one of the most splendid -erections of our great architect. Among his less successful works may be -enumerated Chelsea Hospital, begun in 1682, and finished in 1690, a -plain, but not an inelegant building; his additions to the Palace of -Hampton Court, carried on from 1690 to 1694, which are certainly not in -the best taste; and his repairs at Westminster Abbey, of which he was -appointed Surveyor-General in 1698. In his attempt to restore and -complete this venerable edifice, his ignorance of the principles of the -Gothic style, and his want of taste for its peculiar beauties, made him -fail perhaps more egregiously than on any other occasion. In 1679 he -completed the Library of Trinity College, Cambridge, one of the most -magnificent of his works; and in 1683, the Chapel of Queen’s College, -and the Ashmolean Museum, at Oxford. The same year he began the erection -of the extensive pile of Winchester Castle, originally intended for a -royal palace, but now used as a military barrack. To these works are to -be added a long list of halls for the city companies, and other public -buildings, as well as a considerable number of private edifices. Among -the latter was Marlborough House, Pall-Mall. Indeed scarcely a building -of importance was undertaken during this long period which he was not -called upon to design or superintend. The activity both of mind and body -must have been extraordinary, which enabled him to accomplish what he -did, not to speak of the ready and fertile ingenuity, and the -inexhaustible sources of invention and science he must have possessed, -to meet the incessant demands that were made for new and varying -displays of his contriving skill. It appears, too, in addition to all -this, that the duties imposed upon him by his place of Surveyor of -Public Works, for which he only received a salary of £100 a year, were -of an extremely harassing description, and must have consumed a great -deal of his time. Claims and disputes as to rights of property, and -petitions or complaints in regard to the infringement of the building -regulations in every part of the metropolis and its vicinity, seem to -have been constantly submitted to his examination and adjudication; and -Mr. Elmes has printed many of his reports upon these cases from the -original manuscripts, which afford striking evidence both of the -promptitude with which he gave his attention to the numerous calls thus -made upon him, and of the large expenditure of time and labour they must -have cost him. - -The long series of years during which Wren was occupied in the -accomplishment of his greatest work, and which had conducted him from -the middle stage of life to old age, brought to him also of course -various other changes. He had been twice married, and had become the -father of two sons and a daughter, of whom the eldest, Christopher, was -the author of Parentalia, or Memoirs of the Family of the Wrens. In -1680, he was elected to the Presidency of the Royal Society, on its -being declined by Mr. Boyle; and this honourable office he held for two -years; during which, notwithstanding all his other occupations, we find -him occupying the chair in person at almost every meeting, and still -continuing to take his usual prominent part in the scientific -discussions of the evening. In 1684 there was added to his other -appointments that of Comptroller of the Works at Windsor. In May, 1685, -he entered parliament as one of the members for Plympton; and he also -sat for Windsor both in the convention which met after the revolution, -and in the first parliament of William III. He afterwards sat for -Weymouth in the parliament which met in February, 1700, and which was -dissolved in November of the year following. - -The evening of Wren’s life was marked by neglect and ingratitude. In the -eighty-sixth year of his age he was removed from the office of -Surveyor-General, which he had held for forty-nine years, in favour of -one Benson, whose incapacity and dishonesty soon led to his disgrace and -dismissal. Fortunately Wren’s temper was too happy and placid to be -affected by the loss of court favour, and he retired to his home at -Hampton Court, where he spent the last five years of his life chiefly in -the study of the Scriptures, and the revision of his philosophical -works. He died February 25, 1723, in the ninety-first year of his age. - -More minute accounts of his life are to be found in the Parentalia, -already mentioned, and in Mr. Elmes’s quarto volume. We may also refer -the reader to a longer memoir in the Library of Useful Knowledge. - -[Illustration: Interior of St. Stephen’s, Walbrook.] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by T. Woolnoth._ - - CORNEILLE. - - _From an original Picture by C. Lebrun in the possession of the - Institute of France._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - CORNEILLE - - -Peter Corneille was born at Rouen, on the 6th of June, 1606. His father -was in the profession of the law, and held an office of trust under -Louis XIII. Young Corneille was educated in the Jesuits’ College at -Rouen; and, while there, formed an attachment to that society, which he -maintained unimpaired in after-life. He was destined for the bar, at -which he practised for a short time, but had no turn for business; and -with better warrant than the many, who mistake a lazy and vagabond -inclination for genius and the muse, he quitted the path of ambition and -preferment for a road to fame, shorter, and therefore better suited to -an aspiring, but impatient mind. A French writer congratulates his -country, that he who would have made an obscure and ill-qualified -provincial barrister, became, by change of place and pursuits, the glory -and ornament of a great empire in its most splendid day. Corneille “left -his calling for an idle trade,” without having bespoken the favour of -the public by any minor specimens of poetical talent. He seems indeed to -have hung loose upon society, till a petty affair of gallantry -discovered the mine of his natural genius, though not in his purest and -richest vein. The story is told by Fontenelle, and has been related of -many others with nearly the same incidents; being the common-place of -youthful adventure. One of Corneille’s friends had introduced him to his -intended wife; and the lady, without any imputation of treachery on the -part of the supplanter, took such a fancy to him, as induced her to play -the jilt towards his introducer. Corneille moulded the embarrassment -into a comedy entitled Melite. The drama had hitherto been at a low ebb -among the French. Their tragedy was flat and languid: to comedy, -properly so called, they had no pretensions. The theatre therefore had -hitherto been little attended by persons of condition. Racine describes -the French stage when Corneille began to write, as absolutely without -order or regularity, taste or knowledge, as to what constituted the real -merits of the drama. The writers, he says, were as ignorant as the -spectators. Their subjects were extravagant and improbable; neither -manners nor characters were delineated. The diction was still more -faulty than the action; the wit was confined to the lowest puns. In -short, all the rules of art, even those of decency and propriety, were -violated. This description gives us the history of the infant drama in -all ages and countries; of Thespis in his cart, and of Gammer Gurton’s -needle. - -While the French theatre was in this state of degradation, Melite -appeared. Whatever its faults might be, there was something in it like -originality of character; some indications of a comic vein, and some -ingenious combinations. The public hailed the new era with delight, and -the poet was astonished at his own success. The stage seemed all at once -to flourish and to have taken its proper station among the elegant arts -and rational amusements. On the strength of this acquisition, a new -company of actors was formed; and the successful experiment was followed -up by a series of pieces of the same kind, between the years 1632 and -1635. Imperfect as they were, we may trace in them some sketches of new -character, which the more methodical and practised dramatists of a later -period filled out with more skill and higher colouring, but with little -claim to invention. - -We owe to Corneille one of the most entertaining personages in modern -comedy,—the Chambermaid; who has succeeded to the office of the Nurse in -the elder drama. This change was partly, perhaps principally, produced -by that great revolution in the modern stage which introduced women upon -the boards. While female characters were consigned to male -representatives, the poet took every opportunity of throwing his -heroines into breeches to slur over the awkwardness of the boys; and the -subordinate instruments of the plot were duly enveloped in the hoods and -flannels of decrepit age, while the hard features of the adult male were -easily manufactured into wrinkles. But when once real women were brought -forward, they had their own interests to manage as well as those of the -author; and the artificial disguise of their persons would ill have -accorded with those speculations, of which personal beauty formed a main -ingredient. It was their business therefore, while they conducted the -love-affairs of their mistresses, to interweave an underplot between -themselves and the valets. Less attractive perhaps than their young -ladies in outward show, they obtained compensation in the piquancy of -wit intrusted to their delivery, and thus divided the interest among the -spectators in no disadvantageous proportion. - -Corneille was also the first who brought the dialogue of polished -society upon the French stage, which had hitherto been confined to the -vulgarities of low comedy or the bombast of inflated tragedy. But it is -time to rescue him from the obscurity of his own early compositions. - -His first tragedy was Medea, copied principally from the faulty model of -Seneca, whose prolix declamation, thus early adopted, probably exercised -an unfavourable influence on the after fortunes of the national tragedy. -His nephew Fontenelle, indeed, says that “he took flight at once, and -soared instantly to the sublime.” But this sentence has not been -confirmed by more impartial critics. The Continent has condemned the -witchcraft; but we are bound to uphold it in defence of our own -Shakspeare, who has clothed his hags with more picturesque and awful -attributes than the magnificent and imperial sorceries of Corneille, -Seneca, or even Euripides himself have exhibited. - -The year 1637 was the era of the production of the Cid; the play not -only of France, but of Europe, for it has been translated into most -languages. But a sudden reputation involves its possessor in many -vexations. Poets were in those days compelled to be courtiers, if they -would prosper. At the Hotel de Rambouillet, an assembly was held, -consisting of courtly and fashionable authors, who wasted their time in -composing _thèses d’amour_ and other fopperies of romantic literature. -Over this society, as well as over the politics of Europe, Richelieu -chose to be umpire. He was also the founder of the French Academy, and -the avowed patron of its members. With this hold upon their good -manners, he kept four authors in pay, for the purpose of filling out his -own dramatic and poetical skeletons. Corneille consented to be one of -the party, and was so ignorant of the ways of courts as to fancy that he -might exercise his judgment independently. He was even simple enough to -be astonished that the well-meant liberty of making some alterations in -the plot of one of these ministerial dramas should give offence: but as -he was too proud to surrender his own judgment, or to risk future -affronts from the revulsion of the Cardinal’s goodwill, he withdrew from -the palace, and abandoned himself to uncontrolled intercourse with the -Muse. Richelieu therefore became the principal instigator of a cabal, -which the envy of the wits sufficiently inclined them to form. Under -such auspices, they entered into a conspiracy against the uncourtly -offender. The prime minister could not endure that the successful -intriguer in political life should be taxed with failure in unravelling -the intricacies of a fictitious interest: he therefore looked at the -real defects in a performance approved by the public with a jaundiced -eye, and with but a half-opened one at its unrivalled beauties. As -universal patron, he had settled a pension on the poet; but he levelled -insidious and clandestine shafts against his fame. The “irritable tribe” -willingly ran to arms, with Scuderi at their head, who wrote hostile -remarks on the Cid, addressed to the Academy in the form of an appeal, -in the course of which he quaintly termed himself _the evangelist of -truth_. According to the statutes of the Academy, that august body could -not take upon itself the decision, without the consent of both parties. -Corneille, however indignant professionally, was under too many personal -obligations to the Cardinal to spurn the authority of a tribunal erected -by him. He therefore gave his assent to the reference, but in terms of -considerable haughtiness. The Academy drew up a critique, to which they -gave the modest title of “Sentiments of the French Academy on the -tragicomedy of the Cid.” In the execution of this delicate commission, -the learned members contrived to reconcile the demands of sound taste -and criticism with the tact and suppleness of courtiers. They gratified -the splenetic temper of the minister by censures, the justice of which -could not be gainsayed: but they praised the beauties of the great -scenes with a nobleness of panegyric, which took from the author all -right to complain of partiality. This solemn judgment was given after -five months of debate and negotiation between the Cardinal and the -academicians, who dreaded official frowns if they wholly acquitted, and -public disgust if they condemned against evidence. If it be considered -that this infant institution owed its birth to Richelieu, and depended -on him for its future growth, the verdict is highly honourable to the -individuals, and creditable to the literary character, even when -disadvantageously circumstanced by being entangled in the trammels of a -court. - -Our limits will not permit the examination of insulated passages, nor -even individual tragedies: but independently of the splendour of the -execution, other circumstances attending the career of the _Cid_ -produced a strong impression on the remainder of Corneille’s dramatic -life. The Cid was taken from two Spanish plays, and several passages -were actual translations; but not in sufficient number to invalidate the -author’s claim to a large share of originality. To set that question at -rest, in the editions published by himself, he gave the passages taken -from the Spanish at the bottom of the page. Yet it was objected by his -rivals and libellers, that the author of Medea and the Cid could only -imitate or translate: that he had stolen the first of his tragedies from -Seneca, the second from Guillen de Castro: a clever borrower, without a -spark of tragic genius or invention! Unluckily for this bold assertion, -among other European languages, this French play was translated into -Spanish; and the nation, whence the piece was professedly derived, -thought it worth while to recover it in the dress given to it by an -illustrious foreigner. Against such unfounded censures it will be -sufficient to quote the authority of Boileau, who speaks of the Cid as a -_merveille naissante_. - -Having achieved his first great success on a Spanish subject and after a -Spanish model, it is not improbable that, had all gone smoothly, he -would have continued to draw his resources from the same fountain. But -vexation and resentment, usually at variance with good policy, now -conspired with it; and put him on seeking a new road to fame. He had, as -it should seem, intended to transplant a succession of Spanish histories -and fables, with all the entanglement of Spanish contrivance in the -weaving of plots. But in weighing the objections started against his -piece, he found that they applied rather to his Spanish originals than -to his own adaptation; he therefore determined to cut the knot of future -controversy, by adopting the severity of the classical model. To this we -owe Horace, Pompée, Cinna, and Polyeucte;—masterpieces which his more -polished but more feeble successors in vain aspired to emulate. Thus did -this eager war of criticism produce a crisis in the dramatic history of -France. Its stage would probably, but for this, have been heroic and -chivalrous, not, as it is, Roman, and after the manner of the ancients. -It might even have rivalled our own in tragicomedy;—that monster -stigmatized by Voltaire as the offspring of barbarism, although, and -perhaps because, he “pilfered snug” from it; and might hope, by -undervaluing the article, to escape detection as the purloiner. - -At the end of three years, devoted to the study of the ancients, the -injured author avenged the injuries levelled against the Cid by the -production of Horace. Although the impetuous poet had not yet subdued -his genius to the trammels of just arrangement, unity of action, and the -other severe rules of the classic drama, such was the originality of -conception, the force of character, and grandeur of sentiment displayed -in this performance, that new views of excellence were opened to the -astonished audience. Voltaire, with all the pedantry of mechanical -criticism, objects to Horace, that in it there are three tragedies -instead of one. Whatever may be the force of this objection with the -French, it will weigh little with a people inured to the irregular -sublimity and unfettered splendour of Shakspeare. Cinna redeemed many of -the errors of Horace, and improved upon its various merits. The -suffrages of the public were divided between it and Polyeucte, as the -author’s masterpiece. But Dryden considered the Cid and China as his two -best plays; and speaks of Polyeucte sarcastically, as “in matters of -religion, as solemn as the long stops upon our organs.” - -Before the performance of Polyeucte, Corneille read it at the Hotel de -Rambouillet. That tribunal affected sovereign authority in affairs of -wit. Even the reputation of the author, now in all its splendour, could -no further command the civilities of the critics, than to “damn with -faint praise.” Some days afterwards, Voiture called on Corneille, and, -after much complimentary circumlocution, took the liberty of just -hinting, that its success was not likely to answer expectation: above -all, that its _Christian spirit_ was calculated to give offence. -Corneille, much alarmed, was about to withdraw it from rehearsal: the -persuasions of an inferior player spirited him up to risk the -consequences of avowing himself a Christian in an infidel court. Thus, -probably, a hanger-on of the theatre had the honour of preventing a -repetition of that malice, by which rival wits attempted to arrest the -career of the Cid. - -The winter of 1641–42 produced La Mort de Pompée and Le Menteur. - -The opening of La Mort de Pompée has been frequently commended for -grandeur of conception and originality; and the skill cannot be denied, -by which the enunciation of the circumstances producing the interest of -the piece is rendered consistent with the dignity of the subject and -characters. The same praise cannot be conceded to the inflation of the -dialogue and the intolerable length of the speeches. But the concluding -speech of Cæsar to the second scene of the third act, and the whole of -the fourth act, notwithstanding the censure of Dryden, both on this -tragedy and the Cinna, that “they are not so properly to be called -plays, as long discourses of reason and state,” may be selected as -favourable specimens of the style and power of French dialogue. - -A short notice will be sufficient for the comedy of Corneille; and the -production of Le Menteur, his most celebrated piece, affords the fittest -opportunity. As the Cid was imitated from Guillen de Castro, Lopé de -Vega furnished the groundwork of Le Menteur. It is considered to be the -first genuine example of the comedy of intrigue and character in France; -for Melite was at best but a mere attempt. Before this time, there was -no unsophisticated nature, no conventional manners, no truth of -delineation. Mirth was raised by extravagance, and curiosity by -incidents bordering on the impossible. Corneille appealed to nature and -to truth: however imperfect the execution, in comparison with that of -his next successor in comedy, he proved that he knew how Thalia as well -as Melpomene ought to be drawn. The greatest compliment, perhaps, that -can be paid to his genius is, that he pointed out the road both to -Racine and Moliere. - -The year 1645 gave birth to Rodogune, in which, having before touched -the springs of wonder and pity, he worked on his audience by the more -powerful engine of terror. His subsequent pieces were below his former -level, and betrayed, not so much the decay of genius from the growing -infirmities of nature, as that fatal mistake in _writing themselves -out_, so common to authors in the province of imagination. The cold -reception of Pertharite disgusted the poet, and he renounced the stage -in a splenetic little preface to the printed play, complaining that “he -had been an author too long to be a fashionable one.” The turmoil of the -court and the gaiety of the theatre had not effaced his early sentiments -of piety and religion; he therefore betook himself to the translation of -Kempis’s Imitation of Jesus Christ, which he performed very finely. This -gave rise to a ridiculous and unfounded story, that the first book was -imposed on him as a penance; the second, by the Queen’s command; and the -third, by the terrors of conscience during a severe illness. - -As the mortification of failure faded away with time, his passion for -the theatre revived. Notwithstanding some misgivings, he was encouraged -by Fouquet Destrin in 1659, after six years’ absence. He began again, -with more benefit to his popularity than to his true fame, with -Œdipus;—the noblest and most pathetic subject, most nobly treated, of -ancient tragedy. La Toison d’Or came next; a spectacle got up for the -King’s marriage;—a species of piece in which the poet always plays a -subordinate part to the scene-painter and the dressmaker. Sertorius is -to be noticed as having given scope to the fine declamatory powers of -Mademoiselle Clairon, the Siddons of the French stage. - -Berenice rose to an unenviable fame, principally in consequence of the -following circumstances. Henrietta of England, then Duchess of Orleans, -whom Fontenelle had the good manners to compliment as “a princess who -had a high relish for works of genius, and had been able to call forth -some sparks of it _even in a barbarous country_,” privately set -Corneille and Racine to work on the same subject. Their pieces were -represented at the same time; and the struggle between a worn-out -veteran and a champion in the vigour of youth, terminated, as might have -been expected, in the victory of the latter. This literary contest was -known by the title of “the duel.” The experiment proves the love of -mischief, but says little for the good taste or benevolence of the royal -instigator. Pulchérie and Surena were his last productions: both better -than Berenice, with sufficient merit to render the close of his literary -life respectable, if not splendid. - -The personal history of Corneille furnishes little anecdote; we have -only further to state, that he was chosen a Member of the French Academy -in 1647, and was Dean of that society at the time of his death, which -took place in 1684, in his seventy-ninth year. - -He is said to have been a man of a devout and melancholy cast. He spoke -little in company, even on subjects which his pursuits had made his own. -The author of ‘Melanges d’Histoire et du Literature,’ a work published -under the name of Vigneut Marville, but really written by the Pêre -Bonaventure d’Ayounne, a Cistercian monk of Paris, says, that “the first -time he saw him, he took him for a tradesman of Rouen. His conversation -was so heavy as to be extremely tiresome if it lasted long.” But -whatever might be the outward coarseness or dulness of the man, he was -mild of temper in his family, a good husband, parent, and friend. His -worth and integrity were unquestionable; nor had his connexion with the -court, of which he was not fond, taught him that art of cringing so -necessary to fortune and promotion. Hence his reputation was almost the -only advantage accruing to him from his productions. His works have been -often printed, and consist of more than thirty plays, tragedies and -comedies. - -Those who wish for a more detailed account of this great writer will -find it in his life, by Fontenelle, in Voltaire’s several prefaces, in -Racine’s Speech to the French Academy on the admission of his brother -Thomas, and in Bayle. Many scattered remarks on him may also be found -throughout Dryden’s critical prefaces. - -[Illustration: Tragic Masks, from Pompeii.] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by W. T. Fry._ - - HALLEY - - _From an original Picture ascribed to Dahl in the possession of the - Royal Society._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - HALLEY - - -Edmund Halley, one of the greatest astronomers of an age which produced -many, was born at a country house named Haggerston, in the parish of St. -Leonard, Shoreditch, October 29, 1656. His father, a wealthy citizen and -soap-boiler, intrusted the care of his son’s education to Dr. Gale, -master of St. Paul’s School. Here young Halley applied himself to the -study of mathematics and astronomy with what was then considered great -success; for, before he left school, he understood the use of the -celestial globe, and could construct a sun-dial; and, as he has himself -informed us, had already observed the variation of the needle. In 1673, -being in the seventeenth year of his age, he was entered of Queen’s -College, Oxford, and two years afterwards gave the first proof of his -astronomical genius by publishing, in the Philosophical Transactions, -1676, “a direct and geometrical method of finding the Aphelia and -Eccentricities of the Planets.” His father, who seems to have had none -of that antipathy to a son’s engaging in literary or scientific -pursuits, which is represented as common to men of commerce by the -writers of that age, supplied him liberally with astronomical -instruments. Thus assisted, he made many observations, particularly of -Jupiter and Saturn, by means of which he discovered that the motion of -Saturn was slower, and that of Jupiter quicker than could be accounted -for by the existing tables; and made some progress in correcting those -tables accordingly. But he soon found that nothing could be done without -a good catalogue of the stars. This, it appears, he had some intention -of forming; but finding that Hevelius and Flamsteed were already -employed on the same work, he proposed to himself to proceed to the -southern hemisphere, and to complete the design by observing those stars -which never rise above the horizons of Dantzic and Greenwich. Having -obtained his father’s consent, and an allowance of £300 a-year; and -having fixed upon St. Helena as the most convenient spot, he applied to -Sir Joseph Williamson and Sir Jonas Moor, the Secretary of State and the -Surveyor of the Ordnance. These gentlemen represented his intention in a -favourable light to Charles II., and also to the East-India Company, who -promised him every assistance in their power. Thus protected, he set out -for St. Helena in 1676; his principal instruments being a sextant of -five feet and a half radius, and a telescope of twenty-four feet in -length. He found the climate not so favourable as he had been led to -believe, and moreover describes himself as disgusted with the treatment -he received from the Governor. Under these disadvantages, he -nevertheless formed a catalogue of 350 stars, which he afterwards -published under the name of ‘Catalogus Stellarum Australium.’ He called -a new constellation which he had observed, by the title of _Robur -Carolinum_, in honour of the well-known oak of Charles II. While at St. -Helena he also observed a transit of Mercury, and suggested the use -which might be made of similar phenomena in the determination of the -sun’s distance from the earth. He first observed the necessity of -shortening the pendulum as it approached the equator; or, at least, when -Hook afterwards mentioned the circumstance to Newton, it was the first -time the latter had heard of the fact. - -Soon after his return to England, in November, 1678, Halley obtained the -degree of M.A. from the University of Oxford, by royal mandate, and was -elected Fellow of the Royal Society. This body had been requested by -Hevelius to select some person who might add the southern stars to his -catalogue. A dispute was also pending between him and Hook, as to the -use of telescopes in observing the stars, to which the former objected. -To aid Hevelius, as well as to decide upon the character of his -observations, Halley went to Dantzic, and it is related, as a proof of -the energy of his character, that in one month from the time of his -landing in England he published his catalogue, procured a mandate, took -the degree, was elected F.R.S., arranged to go to Dantzic, and wrote to -Hevelius. He arrived on the 26th of May, 1679, and the same night -entered upon a series of observations with Hevelius, which he continued -till July, when he returned to England, fully satisfied of his -coadjutor’s accuracy. - -In 1680 he again visited the continent. Between Paris and Calais he had -a sight of the celebrated comet of that year, well known as the one by -observations of which the orbit of these bodies was discovered to be -nearly a parabola. He returned from his travels in the year 1681, and -shortly after married the daughter of a Mr. Tooke then Auditor of the -Exchequer, which union lasted fifty-five years. He settled at Islington, -where, for more than ten years, he occupied himself with his usual -pursuits, of the results of which we shall presently speak more -particularly. - -In 1691 the Savilian Professorship of Astronomy became vacant, and, as -Whiston relates, on the authority of Dr. Bentley, Bishop Stillingfleet -was requested to recommend Mr. Halley. But the astronomer’s avowed -disbelief of Christianity interfered with his election in this instance, -and the Professorship was given to Dr. Gregory. It is related by Sir -David Brewster that Halley, when inclined to enter upon religious -subjects with Newton, always received a check in words like the -following, “You have not studied the subject—I have.” - -After the above-mentioned failure, our astronomer received from King -William the commission of Captain in the Navy, with command of a small -vessel. The singularity of the reward need not surprise us, when the -same monarch offered a company of dragoons to Swift: indeed the pursuits -of Captain Halley were nearly akin to those of navigation, and he -himself might be almost as well qualified for sailing, though perhaps -not for fighting a ship, as most of his brother officers. In his new -character Halley made two voyages, the first to the Mediterranean, the -Brazils, and the West Indies, for the purpose of ascertaining the -variation of the magnet, a subject in which he was much interested, and -of which he afterwards published a chart; the second to ascertain the -latitudes and longitudes of the principal points in the British Channel, -and the course of the tides. In 1703 he was elected Savilian Professor -of Geometry, on the death of the celebrated Wallis. He received, about -the same time, the degree of Doctor of Laws, which is conferred without -requiring subscription to the Articles of the Church. In his connexion -with the University he superintended several parts of the edition of the -Greek Geometers, which was printed at the University press. - -Halley succeeded Sir Hans Sloane, in 1713, as Secretary to the Royal -Society; and, in 1719, on the death of Flamsteed, he was appointed -Astronomer Royal at Greenwich. In this employment he continued till his -death, under the patronage of Queen Caroline, wife of George II., who -procured for him the half-pay of the rank he formerly held in the navy. -In 1737 he was seized with a paralytic disorder; but nevertheless -continued his labours till within a short time of his death, which took -place in January, 1742, at the age of eighty-five. He was interred at -Lee, near Blackheath, where a monument was erected to him and his wife -by their two daughters. - -In person Dr. Halley was rather tall, thin, and fair, and remarkable as -well for energy as vivacity of character. He cultivated the friendship -and acquired the esteem of his most distinguished contemporaries, and -particularly of Newton, spite of their very different opinions. Indeed -it may be said that to him we owe, in some degree, the publication of -the ‘Principia;’ for Halley being engaged upon the consideration of -Kepler’s law, as it had been discovered by observation, viz., that the -squares of the periodic times of planets are as the cubes of their -distances, and suspecting that this might be accounted for on the -supposition of a centripetal force, varying inversely as the square of -the distance, applied himself to prove the connexion geometrically, in -which he was unable to succeed. In this difficulty he applied to Hook -and Wren, neither of whom could help him, and was recommended to consult -Newton, then Lucasian Professor at Cambridge. Following this advice, he -found in Newton all he wanted; and did not rest until he had persuaded -his new acquaintance to give the results of his discoveries to the -world. In about two years after this, the first edition of the -‘Principia’ was published, and the proofs were corrected by Halley, who -supplied the well-known Latin verses which stand at the beginning of the -work. - -In conversation, Halley appears to have been of a jocose and somewhat -satirical disposition. The following anecdote of him, which is told by -Whiston, displays the usual modesty of the latter, when speaking of -himself: “On my refusal from him of a glass of wine on a Wednesday or -Friday, he said he was afraid I had a pope in my belly, which I denied, -and added somewhat bluntly, that had it not been for the rise now and -then of a Luther or a Whiston, he would himself have gone down on his -knees to St. Winifred or St. Bridget, which he knew not how to -contradict.” It is related that when Queen Caroline offered to obtain an -increase of Halley’s salary as Astronomer Royal, he replied, “Pray, your -Majesty, do no such thing, for should the salary be increased, it might -become an object of emolument to place there some unqualified needy -dependant, to the ruin of the institution.” And yet the sum which he -would not suffer to be increased was only £100 a-year. - -To give even a catalogue of the various labours of Halley, would require -more space than we can here devote to the subject. For a more detailed -account both of his life and discoveries, we must refer the reader to -the Biographia Britannica, to Delambre, Histoire de l’Astronomie au -dix-huitième Siecle, livre II., and the Philosophical Transactions of -the time in which he lived; or better perhaps to the Miscellanea -Curiosa, _London_, 1726, a selection of papers from the Transactions, -containing the most remarkable of those written by Halley. We shall, -nevertheless, proceed briefly to notice a few of the discoveries on -which the fame of our astronomer is built. - -The most remarkable of them, to a common reader, is the conjecture of -the return of a comet. Some earlier astronomers, as Kepler, had imagined -the motion of these bodies to be rectilinear. Newton, in explaining the -principle of universal gravitation, showed how a comet might describe a -parabola, and also how to calculate its motion, and compare it with -observation. Hevelius had already indicated the curvature of a comet’s -path, and Dörfel, a Saxon clergyman, had calculated the path of the -comet of 1680 upon this supposition. Halley, in computing the parabolic -elements of all the comets which had been well observed up to his time, -suspected, from the general likeness of the three, that the comets of -1531, 1607, and 1682, were the same. He was the more confirmed in this, -by knowing that comets had been seen, though no good observations were -recorded, in the years 1305, 1380, and 1456, giving, with the former -dates, a chain of differences of 75 and 76 years alternately. Halley -supposed, therefore, that the orbit of this comet was, not a parabola, -but a very elongated ellipse, and that it would return about the year -1758. The truth of his conjecture was fully confirmed in January, 1759, -by Messier. The first person, however, who saw Halley’s comet, as it is -now called, was George Palitzch, a farmer in the neighbourhood of -Dresden, who had studied astronomy by himself, and fitted up a small -observatory. - -But a much more useful exertion of Halley’s genius and power of -calculation is to be found in his researches on the lunar theory. It is -to him that we are indebted for first starting the idea of finding the -longitude at sea by means of the moon’s place, which is now universally -adopted. The principle of this problem is as follows. An observer at sea -can readily find the time of day by means of the sun or a star, and can -thereby correct a watch. If he could at the same moment in which he -finds his own time, also discover that at Greenwich, the difference -between the two, turned into degrees, minutes, and seconds, would be his -longitude east or west of Greenwich. If, therefore, he carries with him -a Nautical Almanac, in which the times of various astronomical phenomena -are registered, as they will take place at Greenwich, or rather as they -will be seen by an observer placed at the centre of the earth with a -Greenwich clock, he can observe any one of these phenomena, and reduce -it also to the centre. He will then know the corresponding moments of -time, for his own position and that of Greenwich. The moon traverses the -whole of its orbit in little more than 27 days, and therefore moves -rapidly with respect to the fixed stars, its motion being nearly a whole -sign of the zodiac in 48 hours. If we observe the distance between the -moon and a star, and find it to be ten degrees, the longitude of the -place in which the observation is made can be known as aforesaid, if the -almanac will tell what time it was at Greenwich when the moon was at -that same distance from the star. In the time of Halley, though it was -known that the moon moved nearly in an ellipse, yet the elements of that -ellipse, and the various irregularities to which it is subject, were -very imperfectly ascertained. It had, however, been known even from the -time of the Chaldeans, that some of these irregularities have a -_period_, as it is called, of little more than eighteen years, that is, -begin again in the same order after every eighteen years; the periods -and quantities of several other errors had also been discovered with -something like accuracy. To make good lunar tables, that is, tables from -which the place of the moon might be correctly calculated beforehand, -became the object of Halley’s ambition. He therefore observed the moon -diligently during the whole of one of the periods of eighteen years, -that is, from the end of 1721 to that of 1739, and produced tables which -were published in 1749, after his death, and were of great service to -astronomers. He also made another observation on the motion of the moon, -which has since given rise to one of the finest discoveries of Laplace. -In calculating from our tables the time of an ancient eclipse, observed -at Babylon, B. C. 720, he found that, had the tables been correct, it -would have happened three hours sooner than, according to Ptolemy, it -did happen. This might have arisen from an error in the Babylonian -observation; but on looking at other eclipses, he found that the ancient -ones always happened later than the time indicated by his table, and -that the difference became less and less as he approached his own time. -From hence he concluded that the moon’s average daily motion is subject -to a very small acceleration, so that a lunar month at present is in a -very slight degree shorter than a month in the time of the Chaldeans. -This was afterwards shown by Laplace to arise from a very slow -diminution in the eccentricity of the earth’s orbit, caused by the -attraction of the planets. For a further account of Halley’s -astronomical labours, we may refer to the History of Astronomy in the -Library of Useful Knowledge, page 79. - -We must also ascribe to Halley the first correct application of the -barometer to the measurement of the heights of mountains. Mariotte, who -first enunciated the remarkable law that the elastic forces of gases are -in the inverse proportion of the spaces which they occupy, had -previously given a formula for the determination of these same heights, -entirely wrong in principle, and inapplicable in practice. Halley, whose -profound mathematical knowledge made him fully equal to the task, -investigated and discovered the common formula, which, with some -corrections for the temperature of the mercury in the barometer and the -air without it, is in use at this day. We have already mentioned that -Halley sailed to various parts of the earth with a view to determine the -variation of the magnet. The result of his labours was communicated to -the Royal Society in a map of the lines of equal variation, and also of -the course of the trade-winds. He attempted to explain the phenomena of -the compass by supposing that the earth is one great magnet, having four -poles, two near each pole of the equator; and further accounts for the -variation which the compass undergoes from year to year in the same -place, by imagining a magnetic sphere, interior to the surface of the -earth, which nucleus or inner globe turns on an axis with a velocity of -rotation very little differing from that of the earth itself. This -hypothesis has shared the fate of many others purely mathematical; that -is, invented to show how the observed phenomena might be produced, -without any ground of observation for believing that they really are so -produced. If we put together the astronomical and geographical -discoveries of Halley, and remember that the former were principally -confined to those points which bear upon the subjects of the latter, we -shall be able to find a title for their author less liable to cavil than -that of the Prince of Astronomers, which has sometimes been bestowed -upon him; we may safely say that no man, either before or since, has -done more to improve the theoretical part of navigation, by the diligent -observation alike of heavenly and earthly phenomena. - -We pass over many minor subjects, such as his improvement of the -diving-bell, or his measurement of the quantity of fluid abstracted by -evaporation from the sea, to come to an application of science in which -he led the way,—the investigation of the law of mortality. From -observations communicated to the Royal Society of the births and deaths -in the city of Breslau, he constructed the first table of mortality, -which was in a great measure the foundation of the celebrated hypothesis -of De Moivre, that the decrements of human life are nearly equal at all -ages; that is, that out of eighty-six persons born, one dies every year, -until all are gone. Halley’s table as might be expected, was not very -applicable to human life in England, either then or now, but the effect -of example is conspicuous in this instance. Before the death of Halley -the tables of Kerseboom were published, and four years afterwards, those -of De Parcieux. - -We will not enlarge on the purely mathematical investigations of Halley, -which would possess but little interest for the general reader. We may -mention, however, his method for the solution of equations, his ‘Analogy -of the Logarithmic Tangents to the Meridian Line, or sum of the -secants,’ his algebraic investigation of the place of the focus of a -lens, and his improvement of the method of finding logarithms. From the -latter we quote a sentence, which, to the reader, for whose benefit we -have omitted entering upon any discussion of these subjects, will appear -amusing enough, if indeed he does not shrink to see how much he has -degenerated from his ancestors. After describing a process which -contains calculation enough for most people; and which further directs -to multiply sixty figures by sixty figures, he adds, “If the curiosity -of any gentleman that has leisure, would prompt him to undertake to do -the logarithms of all prime numbers under 100,000 to 25 or 30 figures, I -dare assure him that the facility of this method will invite him -thereto; nor can anything more easy be desired. And to encourage him, I -here give the logarithms of the first prime numbers under 20 to 60 -places.” One look at these encouraging rows of figures would be -sufficient for any but a calculating boy. - -No one who is conversant with the mathematics and their applications can -read the life of the mathematicians of the seventeenth century without a -strong feeling of respect for the manner in which they overcame -obstacles, and of gratitude for the labour which they have saved their -successors. The brilliancy of later names has, in some degree, eclipsed -their fame with the multitude; but no one acquainted with the history of -science can forget, how with poor instruments and imperfect processes, -they achieved successes, but for which Laplace might have made the first -rude attempts towards finding the longitude, and Lagrange might have -discovered the law which connects the coefficients of the binomial -theorem. But even of these men the same thing may one day be said; and -future analysts may wonder how Laplace, with his paltry means of -investigation, could account for the phenomenon of the acceleration of -the moon’s motion; and future astronomers may, should such a sentence as -the present ever meet their eyes, be surprised that the observers of the -nineteenth century should hold their heads so high above those of the -seventeenth. - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by W. Holl._ - - SULLY. - - _From the original Picture by an unknown Artist in the private - collection of Louis Philippe, King of the French._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - SULLY - - -The Duc de Sully is celebrated as the companion, minister, and historian -of Henry IV., the most popular of French monarchs. Eminent among his -contemporaries both as a soldier and as a financier, it is his especial -glory that he laboured to promote the welfare of the industrious -classes, when other statesmen regarded them but as the fount from which -royal extravagance was to be supplied. - -Maximilian, son of François de Bethune, Baron de Rosny, and of Charlotte -Dauvet, daughter of a President of the Chamber of Accounts at Paris, was -born at Rosny in the year 1559. His family was ancient, illustrious, and -once wealthy, but his paternal grandfather had almost ruined it by his -extravagance, his maternal grandfather disinherited him because he -embraced the reformed religion; and with a slight annual allowance young -Rosny had to seek his own fortune in the extravagant profession of arms. -By a sage economy and order he, however, supported himself, and escaped -the dependence and dishonour consequent on extravagance in a poor man. -When thirteen years of age he was presented by his father to the young -Prince of Navarre, who was only seven years older than himself, and who -at once conceived that affection for him which was destined to cease -only with his own life. - -On the memorable day of St. Bartholomew, Rosny was in Paris, engaged in -the prosecution of his studies. A known member of the Protestant Church, -his life was in jeopardy: his servant and his tutor fell victims to the -rage of the Papists, and he himself, obliged to quit his chambers for a -safer hiding-place, and exposed to imminent dangers in traversing the -streets, owed his deliverance more than once to a union of courage and -coolness not very common in a youth of thirteen. After this event he, as -well as his patron and friend Henry of Navarre, conformed for a time to -the observances of the Roman Catholic religion; but in 1576, when Henry -escaped from the thraldom in which he had been held, abjured Catholicism -and placed himself at the head of a Protestant army, Rosny was the -companion of his flight, and first began to carry arms in his service. -His noble birth, and the favour of his master, would at once have -secured him military rank, but Rosny preferred to serve as a simple -volunteer, in order, as he said, to learn the art of war by its -elements. - -At the surprise of Réde, at the siege of Villefranche, at the taking of -Eause and Cahors, at the battle of Marmande, and in all the dangerous -affairs in which Henry engaged, Rosny was always at his side. His good -services, and the affection borne him by his master, did not, however, -prevent a quarrel, which, it must be said, was provoked by his own -imprudence and aggravated by his own pride. In spite of the commands of -the Prince of Navarre, who had wisely prohibited the practice of -referring private quarrels to the arbitrement of the sword, Rosny acted -as second in a duel, in which one of the principals was desperately -wounded. The Prince’s anger at the breach of discipline was exasperated -by a strong personal regard for the wounded man. He sent for Sully, -rebuked him in harsh terms, and said that he deserved to lose his head -for what he had done. The pride of the young soldier was touched; he -replied that he was neither vassal nor subject of Navarre, and would -henceforth seek the service of a more grateful master. The Prince -rejoined in severe terms and turned his back on him; and Rosny was -quitting the court, when the Queen, who knew his value, interfered, and -reconciled him with her son. - -Not long after he quitted Henry’s service, alleging that he had pledged -his word to accompany the Duc d’Alençon, afterwards Duc d’Anjou, brother -of Henry III., in his contest for the sovereignty of Flanders; where, in -case of success, he was to be put in possession of the estates which had -belonged to his maternal grandfather. In this campaign he gained neither -honour nor profit, and soon returned to his original master. Henry -received him with open arms, and, as if to prove that absence had not -affected his confidence and esteem, sent him a few days after on an -important mission to Paris. - -In the troubled times which followed, Rosny was unshaken in devotion to -the cause which he had espoused. He accompanied Henry, when that prince, -with only nineteen followers, threw himself, as a last resource, into La -Rochelle. He undertook an embassy from that city to Henry III., then -almost as much persecuted by the League as the King of Navarre himself. -In his Memoirs he has left a striking description of the degraded -condition of that sovereign, who had entirely abandoned himself to -favourites and menials of the court. “His Majesty was in his cabinet; he -had his sword by his side, a hood thrown over his shoulders, a little -bonnet on his head, and a basket full of little dogs hung round his neck -by a broad riband.” He listened to Rosny with vacant stupidity, neither -moving his feet, his hands, nor his head. When he spoke, he complained -of the audacity and insults of the League—said that nothing would go -well in France until the King of Navarre went to mass—but agreed, -finally, that Rosny might treat with the envoys of the Protestant -Cantons of Switzerland, in his name as well as the King of Navarre’s, -for the raising of twenty thousand Swiss troops, to be employed between -the two sovereigns. - -Henry, through his imprudence, lost all the advantages which his -faithful servant’s treaty with the Swiss might have secured to him; but -neither disgusted nor dispirited by this folly, Rosny persevered in his -attachment to a cause which seemed altogether desperate to most others. -He was at the siege of Fontenay, and at the brilliant victory of -Coutras, for which the King of Navarre was materially indebted to the -artillery under Rosny’s command. His next great undertaking was to -effect an entire reconciliation between his master and the King of -France. Having succeeded in this, the eyes of all France thenceforward -rested upon him as the only man who could re-establish the distracted -kingdom. Such was the enthusiasm of many of the French at the time, that -they called him “Le Dieu Rosny.” - -The desired reconciliation had not long been made when Henry III. was -assassinated by a fanatic monk, and the King of Navarre laid claim to -the vacant throne. But much remained to be done ere he could tranquilly -seat himself upon it. His religion was an insurmountable obstacle to the -mass of the nation, and the League was all-powerful in many parts of -France and held possession of Paris. - -Rosny fought with his accustomed valour at the battles of Arques and -Ivry. At the latter he well nigh lost his life: he received five wounds, -had two horses killed under him, and fell at last among a heap of slain. -The manner in which he retired from this field, with four prisoners of -the highest distinction and the standard of the enemy’s -commander-in-chief, is one of the most romantic incidents to be found in -authentic history. - -After the victory of Ivry, Rosny did not receive the rewards he merited, -and he remained for some time at his estate under pretence of ill -health, but secretly disinclined to return to the service of one who had -shown little real gratitude for his long and faithful adherence. No -sooner, however, did he learn that Henry was about to undertake the -siege of Paris, than he left his retreat and hastened again to his -master’s side. His wounds were still uncured: he appeared before the -King leaning on crutches and with an arm in a sling. Touched by his -devotedness and his melancholy state, Henry loaded him with caresses, -and insisted that he should not expose himself for the present but -remain near his person to assist him with his counsels. - -When Henry first meditated his recantation of the Protestant faith, he -consulted Rosny on this all-important subject. The honest soldier after -reviewing the state of the parties opposed to the King, and holding out -the hope that they would disagree among themselves and fall to pieces, -said, “With regard to your change of religion, it cannot be otherwise -than advantageous to you, seeing that your enemies have no other pretext -for their hostility, but, sire, it is between you and your conscience to -decide on this important article[4].” Shortly after this conversation -the death of the Duke of Parma relieved Henry from one of his most -formidable enemies; but the implacable Leaguers, now becoming meanly -desperate, laid plots against his life, and, it is said, even sent -assassins to Mantes, where the King was residing. Henry thought to -provide for his personal safety by continually surrounding himself by a -corps of faithful English soldiers who were in his service; but Rosny, -knowing the craft and audacity of fanaticism, and warned of the danger -which menaced the competitor for the crown by the untimely fate of its -last wearer, was kept in a state of continual alarm. At last, sinking -his attachment to the reformed religion in his attachment to his King -and his friend, he supplicated, on his knees, that he would conform to -the doctrines of the Roman Catholic Church. And this the King did almost -immediately after. Rosny continued a Protestant. Many of the cities of -France now submitted to Henry, but Rouen, one of the most important of -the number, was only gained over by the skilful negotiations of Rosny, -who shortly after treated, and with equal success, with the Duke de -Bouillon, the Duke de Guise, and other formidable enemies of the King. -In return for these valuable services, he was admitted into the Councils -of War and Finance, where his honesty and the favour of his master soon -roused the corrupt and jealous members of those departments of -government against him. So great, indeed, were his annoyances that in -the absence of Henry he withdrew again to his estates, and was only -induced to return to his post by a personal visit from his sovereign. - -Footnote 4: - - Mémoires de Sully. - -The King, who was now strong enough to attack the Spaniards in their -dominions in the Low Countries, laid siege to Arras: but through the bad -conduct of those who administered the finances of the state, he not only -found himself unprovided with all that was necessary to prosecute his -undertaking with success, but was left in a state of entire and even -personal destitution. In these difficulties he called Rosny to his -assistance, and placed him at the head of the finances. Under the new -minister’s able and honest management, affairs soon changed their -aspect: the treasury was replenished, while at the same time the people -found their burdens lightened by economy. Rosny had prepared himself for -this office, in the discharge of which he became a true benefactor of -France, by a profound study of accounts and of the revenues and -resources of the country; and when the post was given to him, for a -considerable time he laboured night and day to detect the impolicy and -the peculation of those who preceded him, and to re-establish the -finances of the country. - -In 1601 Rosny visited England, under pretence of travelling for his -amusement, but in reality to ascertain the political views, and to -secure the friendship of Elizabeth. On the Queen’s death, a formal -embassy to James I. was contemplated, but a dangerous illness which the -King suffered at Fontainebleau delayed this measure. Henry, who thought -he was dying, sent for the long-tried Rosny to his bed-side, and in his -presence he desired the Queen to retain his faithful minister, as the -welfare of herself, her family, and of the nation were dear to her. The -King, however, recovered, and in the month of June, 1603, Rosny, with a -numerous suite, departed on his mission. After a residence of several -weeks in England, he succeeded in concluding an advantageous treaty with -James I. - -The following year he composed a treatise on religious tolerance, which -he at one time hoped might reconcile the animosities of the Catholics -and Protestants. If he failed in this, he left an example, rare at that -time, of an enlightened and liberal spirit. Shortly after he wrote a -memorial indicating the means by which the commerce and finances of -France might be still further improved. At that time the political -sciences could scarcely be said to exist; and it is not to be supposed -that the minister’s views were at all times just and enlarged. They -show, at all events, that he looked to the industry of the people as the -source of national wealth; and to their welfare as one, at least, of the -objects of government. “Tillage and pasturage,” it was a favourite -saying of his, “are the two paps by which France is nourished—the real -treasures of Peru.” To manufactures he was less favourable, and his -obstinacy on this head retarded many of Henry’s schemes for the -encouragement of national industry. His real glory as a minister is to -be sought in the exactness which he introduced into the management of -the finances; and in the vigour with which he repressed peculation in -his subordinates, and gave the whole weight of his influence to check -the needless expenditure of a profligate court, to curtail those feudal -claims which bore hardest on the vassals, and to oppose all privileges -and monopolies, commonly bestowed upon courtiers in those days, which -cramp the prosperity of a nation, to put a comparatively trifling sum -into the pocket of a single person. One day the Duchesse de Verneuil, -one of Henry’s favourites, remonstrated with him for his severity in -this respect, alleging that the King had a good right to make presents -to his mistresses and nobility. His answer should be generally known. -“This were well, Madam, if the King took the money from his own purse; -but it is against reason to take it from the shopkeepers, artisans, and -agricultural labourers, since it is they who support the King and all of -us, and they would be well content with a single master, without having -so many cousins, relations, and mistresses to maintain.” His enemies -insinuated that in the service of the state he had not neglected his own -interest; and it is certain that he acquired immense wealth. Cardinal -Richelieu, however, no friend to him, contents himself with the -insinuation that if the last years of his administration were less -austere than the first, it could not, at least, be said that they were -profitable to himself without being very profitable to the state also. - -To his other offices he added those of Grand Master of the Ordnance, and -Surveyor-General of Public Works. The artillery had always been a -favourite branch of the service with him; and he was esteemed one of the -best generals of the age for the attack or defence of fortified places. -As Master of the Ordnance he mainly contributed to the success of the -war with the Duke of Savoy. The army was well paid and provided, the -artillery always at its place at the proper time, and a general reform -was felt throughout the service. In peace he was not less active in -superintending the construction and repair of fortifications; and in -those still more valuable labours which tend to facilitate intercourse, -and provide for the internal wants of a nation. One of his chief works -was a canal to join the Seine and Loire. There were few good engineers -in those times, and Rosny, with his usual industry and earnestness, went -himself to the spot and superintended the commencement of the work he -had projected. - -In 1606, after many brief quarrels between him and his master, caused -chiefly by the intrigues of Henry’s mistresses and worthless courtiers, -Rosny was created Duc de Sully and a Peer of France. - -The licentiousness of the King, and the power he allowed his mistresses -to obtain over him, had continually thwarted Sully and undone much of -the good they had together proposed and executed. The minister’s -remonstrances were frequent, bold, and at times even violent; indeed, -his whole life had been distinguished by an honest bluntness; but the -propensities of the amorous monarch were incurable, and his faithful -servant had the mortification of seeing him disgrace the last years of -his life by an infatuation for the Princess of Condé. Henry had already -determined on a war with his old enemies the Spaniards, when the flight -of this lady with her husband, who took refuge in the states of the -house of Austria, induced him to hurry on his preparations to attack -both the Emperor and the King of Spain. Sully, at this time, had amassed -forty millions of livres in the treasury of the state, and he engaged -moreover to increase this sum to sixty or to seventy millions without -laying on any new taxes. He had also provided the most numerous and -magnificent corps of artillery that had ever been seen in Europe. But in -the midst of these grand preparations Henry’s mind was agitated by his -insane passion for the Princess of Condé, and oppressed by a -presentiment of his fate. He was indeed told on every hand that plots -were laid against his life; his romantic courage forsook him, he became -absent and suspicious, and at last distrusted even his faithful -minister. - -Sully now no longer saw his master except at short intervals, and lived, -retired from the court, at the Arsenal, his official residence as Grand -Master of the Artillery. - -The naturally confident and noble nature of Henry, and his old -attachment for the sharer in all his fortunes, triumphed however over -his weaknesses and illusions, and he determined to pay Sully a visit and -to excuse himself for his late coldness. With these amiable intentions -the King left his palace, and was on his way to the Arsenal in an open -carriage, when he was stabbed to the heart by the fanatic Ravaillac. - -On the death of Henry IV. Sully would have continued his valuable -services under the Queen-widow, Mary de’ Medici, who was appointed -Regent, but that Princess resigning herself and the government of the -state to intriguing Italians, headed by the unpopular Concini, the -honest and indignant minister quitted office and the court for ever, and -retired to his estates. - -The life Sully led in his retreat was most rational and dignified. -Unmoved by the ingratitude of the court, of which he was continually -receiving fresh proofs, he continued to love the country he had so long -governed; and though a zealous Protestant to the last, he would never -join in the intrigues of the Hugonots, which he dreaded might renew the -horrors of civil war. To find occupation for his active mind he dictated -his Memoirs to four secretaries, whom, for many years, he retained in -his service, and who, in the ‘Economies Royales,’ better known under the -title of ‘Mémoires de Sully,’ preserved not only the most interesting -details of the life of their noble master and of Henry IV., but the -fullest account of the history and policy, manners and customs, of the -age in which Sully lived. Neither the occupations of war nor of -politics, in which he had been absorbed for thirty-four years, had -eradicated his original taste for polite literature; and in his -retirement he composed many pieces not only in prose but in verse. One -of his poetical compositions, which is a parallel between Henry IV. and -Julius Cæsar, was translated into Latin and much admired throughout -Europe. - -After having lived thirty years in this retirement, the great Sully -expired at his Château of Villebonne, in the eighty-second year of his -age, on the 22d December, 1641—the same year in which Lord Strafford, -the minister of Charles I., was beheaded in London, and in which the -grave closed over the widow of Henry IV., Mary de’ Medici, who died at -Cologne in obscurity and great poverty. - -It is to be regretted that no author has yet produced a life of Sully -worthy of the subject. The ‘Economies Royales’ is the great storehouse -of information, but its prolixity and singularity of style render it -little attractive to the general reader. The following works, however, -may be consulted:—’Les Vies des Hommes Illustres de la France,’ by M. -D’Auvigny, and the memoir in the ‘Biographie Universelle.’ - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by J. Posselwhite._ - - N. POUSSIN. - - _From the original Picture by himself in the Gallery of the Louvre._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - POUSSIN - - -Truth and compliment are happily united in Poussin’s observation to a -noble amateur, “You wanted but the stimulus of necessity to have become -a great painter.” The artist had himself felt this stimulus, and he knew -its value in producing resolution and habits of industry. His family was -noble, but indigent: John, his father, a native of Soissons, and a -soldier of fortune, served during the reigns of Charles IX., Henry III., -and Henry IV., with more reputation than profit. At last, finding that -in the trade of arms his valour was likely to be its own reward, he -married the widow of a solicitor, resigned his military employments, and -fixed his abode at Andelys in Normandy, where, in June 1594, his son -Nicholas, the subject of the present memoir, was born. - -The district in which Andelys is situated is remarkable for its -picturesque beauty, and from the scenery which surrounded him the genius -of Poussin drew its first inspiration. His sketches of landscape -attracted the notice and commendation of Quintin Varin, an artist -residing in the neighbourhood. Animated by praise, young Poussin -earnestly solicited his father that he might become Varin’s pupil: a -request to which the prudent parent, after long hesitation, reluctantly -acceded. He knew that in such a pursuit as that of the fine arts, much -of the aspirant’s life must be expended before a just estimate of his -professional talents can be formed, and that even where talent exists, -the success of the possessor is not always commensurate to its claims. -The youth, however, was fortunate in meeting, in the first instance, -with a preceptor whose instructions, founded on just principles, left -him nothing to unlearn. He remained with Varin until his eighteenth -year, when he went to Paris, and studied under Ferdinand Elle, and -L’Allemand, two artists then in fashion, from whom he learned nothing. -In the mean time he had become acquainted with several persons who -appreciated his dawning talents, and felt an interest in his fortunes. -Among the rest, a young nobleman of Poitou manifested an almost -fraternal attachment towards him, relieved his pecuniary wants, and -among other services introduced him to Courtois, the King’s -mathematician, who possessed a fine collection of prints by Marc -Antonio, and a great number of drawings and sketches by Raffaelle, -Giulio Romano, and other great masters of the Roman school. These -treasures Poussin studied and copied with sedulous zeal and attention, -and he was frequently heard to advert to this circumstance as one of the -most fortunate of his life, inasmuch as the contemplation of these fine -examples had fixed his taste, and determined the bent of his powers -towards the higher branches of art, at a time when his mind was -fluctuating between the attractions of different schools. - -The young Poitevin, being summoned to return home, invited Poussin to -become his companion, and to undertake a series of pictures, calculated, -by its extent as well as its excellence, to do honour to his paternal -mansion. But his mother regarded the fine arts and those who patronised -them with equal and unqualified contempt: and suffering in her house the -exercise of none but what she considered useful talents, she assigned to -Poussin the office of house-steward, and his visions of fame were at -once dispelled by the humble occupation of overlooking the servants, and -keeping accounts. It may easily be supposed that the young artist did -not deport himself very meekly under the new appointments which had thus -unexpectedly been thrust upon him. Without asking the sympathy or -assistance even of his friend, who, it would appear, had acquiesced too -readily in his mother’s arrangements, he quitted the house and made his -way to Paris on foot; having no other means of support on the road than -the extemporaneous productions of his pencil. In consequence of the -hardships which he experienced during this journey, he was attacked by a -fever on reaching Paris, which obliged him to return to Andelys. After -the lapse of a year, having recruited his health, he made arrangements -to execute a long-cherished purpose of a journey to Rome. But with an -improvidence not uncommon in artists, and sometimes falsely said to be -characteristic of genius, he calculated his resources so inaccurately -that in two successive attempts he was obliged to return, leaving his -purpose unaccomplished. In the first instance he reached Florence, but -in the second, he got no farther than Lyons. The disappointment, -however, was attended with good results, for on his return to Paris, a -circumstance occurred which at once raised him into high reputation. - -The Jesuits had ordered a set of pictures for a high festival, which -were to display the miracles worked by their patron saints, Ignatius -Loyola, and Francis Xavier. Of these, six were executed by Poussin, in a -very short space of time; the pictures were little more than sketches, -but they exhibited such powers of composition and expression, that he -was at once acknowledged to have distanced all competitors. His -acquaintance was now sought by amateurs and literati; but the chief -advantage which accrued to him was the friendship of the Chevalier -Marini, a distinguished Italian, who had settled in Paris, and engaged -with interest in the cultivation of elegant literature and the arts. His -mind was stored with classical erudition, and he delighted to exercise -his poetic talent on the then fashionable fables of heathen mythology. -Such pursuits were congenial to Poussin’s turn of mind; and by the -advice, and with the assistance of Marini, he entered deeply into the -study of the Latin and Italian authors. Hence he drew the elements of -that knowledge of the customs, manners, and habits of antiquity, by -which his works are so eminently distinguished. Marini, soon after, went -to Rome, and was anxious that Poussin should accompany him; but this the -artist found impossible, from the number of unfinished commissions on -his hands. In the ensuing year, however, 1624, his long-cherished wish -was accomplished, and he trod the streets of the Eternal City. - -Among the innumerable pilgrims who have thronged to that mighty shrine, -no one ever, perhaps, approached it with deeper reverence than Poussin, -or studied in the school of antiquity with more zeal and success. He -commenced his labours with that enthusiasm which the objects around him -could not fail to inspire, and comprehended in the round of his studies -the different sciences which bore collaterally upon his art. Some of his -finest works are among those which he produced at this period; but his -talents were not at first appreciated in Rome, and the spectre of penury -still haunted his study. His friend Marini had gone to Naples, where he -died, and the Cardinal Barberini, to whose favour he had been especially -recommended, was absent on a legation in Spain. Among other works which -his necessities compelled him to dispose of at this time for a trifling -sum, was “The Ark of God in the hands of the Philistines,” which was -purchased from him for fifty crowns, and sold shortly afterwards to the -Duc de Richelieu for one thousand. Accident and ill health combined with -poverty to overcloud the early part of his abode in Rome. The French -were then very unpopular, on account of some differences existing -between the Court of France and the Holy See. Poussin was assaulted in -the streets by some of the Pope’s soldiery, severely wounded by a -sabre-cut in the hand, and only escaped more serious injury by the -spirit and resolution with which he defended himself. After recovering -from this injury, he was again rendered unable to pursue his art by a -lingering illness; in the course of which a fellow-countryman, named -Jean Dughet, took him to his own home, and treated him with care, which -soon restored him to health. Six months afterwards he married the -daughter of his host, and subsequently adopted his wife’s brother, -Gaspar, who assumed his name, and has shared its honours by his splendid -landscapes. With part of his wife’s portion Poussin purchased a house on -the Pincian Hill, which is still pointed out as an object of interest to -travellers and students. - -From this period the fortune of Poussin began to improve. Relieved from -his embarrassments, and tranquillized by domestic comfort, he proceeded -in the calm exercise of his powers; and the fine works on which his -reputation is founded were painted in rapid succession. Cardinal -Barberini, who had returned to Rome, engaged him to execute one of the -large paintings ordered to be copied in mosaic for St. Peter’s Church. -The subject was the Martyrdom of St. Erasmus; but the picture, which is -now in the Vatican, furnishes no reason for regret that Poussin did not -more frequently employ himself on works of large dimensions. A -circumstance occurred at this time which it is gratifying to relate, as -it exhibits two distinguished men engaged in the honourable task of -promoting the success and vindicating the reputation of each other. When -Poussin arrived at Rome, he found the lovers of art divided into two -parties, composed respectively of the admirers of Guido and Domenichino. -Two pictures had been painted by those artists, which, as if to decide -their rival claims, were hung opposite to each other in the church of -San Gregorio. The subjects were similar; the one the Flagellation, the -other the Martyrdom of the Saint from whom the church is named. The -performance of Guido was the one most generally preferred: but Poussin -formed a different judgment, and sat down to copy the picture of the -less popular artist. Domenichino, on being informed of this, although he -was then suffering from illness, ordered himself to be carried to the -church, where he entered into conversation with Poussin, to whom he was -personally unknown, and who indeed imagined him to be dead. A friendly -intimacy was the consequence of this interview, which was exceedingly -advantageous to Poussin, as Domenichino took pleasure in communicating -all that knowledge of art, which long experience had enabled him to -acquire. Shortly after this Domenichino quitted Rome for Naples, and the -storm of envy and detraction seemed to gather force in his absence. So -much was his reputation injured, that the monks of the convent of San -Girolamo della Carità, who had in their possession his superb picture of -the Communion of St. Jerome, ordered it to be removed from the walls and -consigned to a cellar as a thing utterly contemptible. This anecdote, -were it not attested by unquestionable evidence, would be difficult to -believe; for the merits of the picture require no deep knowledge of art -to be duly appreciated: it is not less admirable in colour and effect -than in sentiment and character. The intelligent monks, however, wishing -for a picture to supply its place, engaged Poussin to paint one, -acquainting him at the same time that they could save him the expense of -canvass, by sending him a worthless daub, over which he might paint. The -astonishment of Poussin on receiving the picture may be easily -conceived. He immediately directed it to be carried to the church from -whence it had been taken, and announced his intention to deliver a -public disquisition on its merits. This he accordingly did to a large -auditory, and with such force of reasoning and illustration, that malice -was silenced and prejudice convinced; and the name of Domenichino -assumed from that time its just rank in public estimation. - -The pictures of Poussin, as he advanced in his career, were eagerly -purchased by connoisseurs from all countries, and his fame was at length -established throughout Europe. In 1638 a project was suggested to Louis -XIII., by Cardinal Richelieu, for finishing the Louvre, and adorning the -royal palaces, according to the magnificent plans of Francis I. The high -reputation of Poussin marked him out as the person best qualified for -the partial execution and entire superintendence of these splendid -works; and accordingly a letter was transmitted to him by order of the -French monarch, appointing him his principal painter, and requesting his -immediate attendance at Paris. But so absorbed was the artist in his -studies, and so unambitious was his temper, that he allowed two years to -elapse before he attended to this flattering requisition; nor is it -probable that he would have quitted Rome at all, had not a gentleman -been despatched from the court of France to bring him. On his arrival, -he was presented to the King, who received him with courtesy, and -assigned him a liberal income. Placed in the full enjoyment of fame and -wealth, Poussin’s situation might well appear enviable to his less -favoured brethren in art. But his station, brilliant as it was, proved -ill-suited to his disposition: and his letters to his friends in Rome -were soon filled with the language of disappointment and complaint. He -felt that he was no longer exercising his genius as an artist, but -labouring as an artisan. Commissions were poured in upon him from the -court with merciless rapidity, without the slightest calculation of the -time requisite to the production of works of art. On one occasion he was -required to execute a picture containing sixteen figures, larger than -life, within six weeks. Nor was this the worst: the triflers of the -court obtruded on him, with irritating politeness, the most -insignificant employments; designs for chimney-pieces, ornamental -cabinets, bindings for books, repairing pictures, &c. To complete the -catalogue of annoyances, his coadjutors in the public works, Le Mercier -the architect, and the painters Vouet and Fouquieres, thwarted and -opposed him in every particular; until at length, worn out and -disgusted, he applied for permission to return to Rome. This he obtained -with some difficulty, and not without a stipulation that he should -revisit Paris within twelve months. It is not improbable that the -condition would never have been fulfilled; but the King’s death in the -following year released him from the obligation. The last works executed -by Poussin in Paris were two allegorical subjects: the one, Time -bringing Truth to light, and delivering her from the fiends, Malice and -Envy; in which an allusion was most probably meant to the controversies -in which he had been engaged: the other, in which his intention is less -equivocal, is an imitation of bas-relief, in the ceiling of the Louvre, -where his opponents, Fouquieres, Le Mercier, and Vouet, are consigned to -the derision of posterity under the figures of Folly, Ignorance, and -Envy. - -Perhaps the happiest, and not an inconsiderable, portion of Poussin’s -life, was that which intervened between his return to Rome and his -death. Experience of the cabals and disquietudes of Paris had no doubt -taught him to value the classical serenity of his adopted home. Although -in possession of great and undisputed fame, and sufficiently affluent, -he continued to labour in his art with unrelaxing diligence, if that may -be called labour which constituted his highest gratification. His -talents and moral worth drew round him a large circle of the learned and -the polite, who anxiously sought his society during his leisure hours; -and in his evening walks on the Pincian Hill, he might have been said to -resemble one of the philosophers of antiquity, surrounded by his friends -and disciples. Thus he descended, with tranquil dignity, into the vale -of life. In 1665 he suffered from a stroke of the palsy, and, shortly -after, the death of his wife plunged him into the deepest affliction. He -perceived his own end to be approaching, and awaited it with calm -resignation. He died in his 72d year, A. D. 1665, and was buried with -public honours in the church of San Lorenzo in Lucina. - -The pictures of Poussin are so numerous, and so generally dispersed, -that every one, whose attention has been directed to the arts, must have -a pretty accurate impression of his style. It is a style of perfect -originality, reminding us somewhat of ancient art, but without a -tincture of imitation of any modern master. For a short time Poussin -sought a model in the school of Titian, but turned from that task to -copy the pictures discovered among the ruins of ancient Rome. Apparently -he wished to give his works something of the subdued tone which Time has -communicated to those relics; and hence, in some of his pictures, there -is a singular discrepancy between the subject and the effect. He -delighted to paint antique revels, bacchanalians, dancing nymphs, &c.; -but his tints never accord with gay subjects, nor exhibit the vivacity -and freshness proper to such scenes. The solemn and sombre hue of his -colouring is far better adapted to grand or pathetic subjects. -Considering the implicit and almost idolatrous admiration with which -Poussin regarded the antique statues, it is astonishing that he should -not have infused into his own forms more of the spirit in which these -are conceived; for, in this point, imitation could not have been carried -too far. But the reverse is the case: his figures are direct transcripts -of individual models, usually correct in proportion, but seldom rendered -ideal, or generalized into beauty. A still greater defect is chargeable -on his composition, which is almost invariably scattered and confused, -without a centre of interest or point of unity. His principal figures -are mixed up with the subordinate ones, and those again with the -accessories in the back-ground. What, then, are the qualities by which -Poussin has acquired his high reputation? The principal one we conceive -to consist in that very simplicity and severity, by which perhaps the -eye is at first offended. He appears to feel himself above the necessity -of superficial ornament. He is always thoroughly in earnest; his figures -perform their business with an emphasis which rivets our attention, we -become identified with the subject, and lose all thought of the painter -in his performance. This is a result never produced by an inferior -artist. On the whole, although we cannot assign Poussin a place by the -side of Raffaelle, Rubens, Titian, and some others, who may be -considered the giants of art, and compose the foremost rank, he -certainly stands among those who are most eminent in the second. His -compositions, which are very numerous, are varied with great skill, and -surprise us, not unfrequently, with novel and striking combinations; and -several among them—we may adduce particularly the Ark of God among the -Philistines, the Deluge, and the Slaughter of the Innocents—could only -have originated in a mind of a very exalted order. - -Several of Poussin’s finest works are in this country. In the Dulwich -Gallery there is, we believe, the largest number to be found in any one -collection. Among those, the subject of the Angels appearing to Abraham -is treated with considerable grace and beauty. The picture of Moses -striking the rock, in the possession of the Marquis of Stafford, is one -of Poussin’s most profound and elaborate performances; and, in the -National Gallery, the two Bacchanalian subjects will furnish a full idea -both of his powers and deficiencies in treating that favourite class of -compositions. - -The reader will find a more detailed account of the life and works of -Poussin in Lanzi’s ‘Storia Pittorica dell’Italia,’ and Bellori’s ‘Vite -di Pittori moderni.’ There is an English life of him written by Maria -Graham. Much critical information concerning his style and performances -will be found in the writings of Mengs, Reynolds, and Fuseli. - -[Illustration: [Holy Family; from a picture by Poussin.]] - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by E. Scriven._ - - W. HARVEY, M.D. - - _From the original Picture by C. Jansen in the possession of the Royal - Society._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - HARVEY - - -William Harvey was born on the 1st of April, 1578, at Folkstone, on the -southern coast of Kent. He was the eldest of nine children; of the rest -little more is known than that several of the brothers were among the -most eminent merchants in the city of London during the reigns of the -two first Stuarts. His father, Thomas Harvey, followed no profession. He -married Joanna Falke at the age of twenty, and lived upon his own estate -at Folkstone. This property devolved by inheritance upon his eldest son; -and the greatest part of it was eventually bequeathed by him to the -college at which he was educated. - -At ten years of age he commenced his studies at the grammar school in -Canterbury; and upon the 31st of May, 1593, soon after the completion of -his fifteenth year, was admitted as a pensioner at Caius College, -Cambridge. - -At that time a familiar acquaintance with logic and the learned -languages was indispensable as a first step in the prosecution of all -the branches of science, especially of medicine; and the skill with -which Harvey avails himself of the scholastic form of reasoning in his -great work on the Circulation, with the elegant Latin style of all his -writings, particularly of his latest work on the Generation of Animals, -afford a sufficient proof of his diligence in the prosecution of these -preliminary studies during the next four years, which he spent at -Cambridge. The two next were occupied in visiting the principal cities -and seminaries of the Continent. He then prepared to address himself to -those investigations to which the rest of his life was devoted; and the -scene of his introduction to them could not have been better chosen than -at the University of Padua, where he became a student in his -twenty-second year. - -The ancient physicians gathered what they knew of anatomy from -inaccurate dissections of the lower animals; and the slender knowledge -thus acquired, however inadequate to unfold the complicated functions of -the human frame, was abundantly sufficient as a basis for conjecture, of -which they took full advantage. With them every thing became easy to -explain, precisely because nothing was understood; and the nature and -treatment of disease, the great object of medicine and of its subsidiary -sciences, was hardily abandoned to the conduct of the imagination, and -sought for literally among the stars. Nevertheless, so firmly was their -authority established, that even down to the close of the sixteenth -century the naturalists of Europe still continued to derive all their -physiology, and the greater part of their anatomy and medicine, from the -works of Aristotle and Galen, read not in the original Greek, but -re-translated into Latin from the interpolated versions of the Arabian -physicians. The opinions entertained by these dictators in the republic -of letters, and consequently by their submissive followers, with regard -to the structure and functions of the organs concerned in the -circulation, were particularly fanciful and confused, so much so that it -would be no easy task to give an intelligible account of them that would -not be tedious from its length. It will be enough to say, that a -scarcely more oppressive mass of mischievous error was cleared away from -the science of astronomy by the discovery of Newton, than that from -which physiology was disencumbered by the discovery of Harvey. - -But though the work was completed by an Englishman, it is to Italy that, -in anatomy, as in most of the sciences, we owe the first attempts to -cast off the thraldom of the ancients. Mundinus had published a work in -the year 1315, which contained a few original observations of his own; -and his essay was so well received that it remained the text-book of the -Italian schools of anatomy for upwards of two centuries. It was enriched -from time to time by various annotators, among the chief of whom were -Achillini, and Berengarius, the first person who published anatomical -plates. But the great reformer of anatomy was Vesalius, who, born at -Brussels in 1514, had attained such early celebrity during his studies -at Paris and Louvain, that he was invited by the republic of Venice in -his twenty-second year to the chair of anatomy at Padua, which he filled -for seven years with the highest reputation. He also taught at Bologna, -and subsequently, by the invitation of Cosmo de’ Medici, at Pisa. The -first edition of his work ‘De Corporis Humani fabricâ,’ was printed at -Basle in the year 1543; it is perhaps one of the most successful efforts -of human industry and research, and from the date of its publication -begins an entirely new era in the science of which it treats. The -despotic sway hitherto maintained in the schools of medicine by the -writings of Aristotle and Galen was now shaken to its foundation, and a -new race of anatomists eagerly pressed forward in the path of discovery. -Among these no one was more conspicuous than Fallopius, the disciple, -successor, and in fame the rival, of Vesalius, at Padua. After him the -anatomical professorship was filled by Fabricius ab Aquapendente, the -last of the distinguished anatomists who flourished at Padua in the -sixteenth century. - -Harvey became his pupil in 1599, and from this time he appears to have -applied himself seriously to the study of anatomy. The first germ of the -discovery which has shed immortal honour on his name and country was -conceived in the lecture-room of Fabricius. - -He remained at Padua for two years; and having received the degree of -Doctor in Arts and Medicine with unusual marks of distinction, returned -to England early in the year 1602. Two years afterwards he commenced -practice in London, and married the daughter of Dr. Launcelot Browne, by -whom he had no children. He became a fellow of the College of Physicians -when about thirty years of age, having in the mean time renewed his -degree of Doctor in Medicine at Cambridge; and was soon after elected -Physician to St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, which office he retained till a -late period of his life. - -On the 4th of August, 1615, he was appointed Reader of Anatomy and -Surgery to the College of Physicians. From some scattered hints in his -writings it appears that his doctrine of the circulation was first -advanced in his lectures at the college about four years afterwards; and -a note-book in his own handwriting is still preserved at the British -Museum, in which the principal arguments by which it is substantiated -are briefly set down, as if for reference in the lecture-room. Yet with -the characteristic caution and modesty of true genius, he continued for -nine years longer to reason and experimentalize upon what is now -considered one of the simplest, as it is undoubtedly the most important, -known law of animal nature; and it was not till the year 1628, the -fifty-first of his life, that he consented to publish his discovery to -the world. - -In that year the ‘Exercitatio Anatomica de Motu Cordis et Sanguinis’ was -published at Frankfort. This masterly treatise begins with a short -outline and refutation of the opinions of former anatomists on the -movement of the animal fluids and the function of the heart; the author -discriminating with care, and anxiously acknowledging the glimpses of -the truth to be met with in their writings; as if he had not only kept -in mind the justice due to previous discoveries, and the prudence of -softening the novelty and veiling the extent of his own, but had -foreseen the preposterous imputation of plagiarism, which, with other -inconsistent charges, was afterwards brought forward against him. This -short sketch is followed by a plain exposition of the anatomy of the -circulation, and a detail of the results of numerous experiments; and -the new theory is finally maintained in a strain of close and powerful -reasoning, and followed into some of its most important consequences. -The whole argument is conducted in simple and unpretending language, -with great perspicuity, and scrupulous attention to logical form. - -The doctrine announced by Harvey may be briefly stated thus:— - -When the blood supplied for the various processes which are carried on -in the living body has undergone a certain degree of change, it requires -to be purified by the act of respiration. For this purpose it is urged -onwards by fresh blood from behind into the veins; and returning in them -from all parts of the body, enters a cavity of the heart called the -_right auricle_. At the same time the purified blood returning from the -lungs by the pulmonary veins, passes into the _left auricle_. When these -two cavities, which are distinct from each other, are sufficiently -dilated, they contract, and force the blood which they contain into two -other much more muscular cavities called respectively the right and left -_ventricle_, all retrogression into the auricles being prevented by -valves, which admit of a passage in one direction only. The ventricles -then contract in their turn with great force, and at the same instant; -and propel their blood, the right, by the pulmonary artery into the -lungs; the left, which is much the stronger of the two, into all parts -of the body, by the great artery called the _aörta_, and its branches; -all return being prevented as before by valves situated at the orifices -of those vessels, which are closed most accurately when the ventricles -relax, by the backward pressure of the blood arising from the elasticity -of the arteries. Thus the purified blood passes from the lungs by the -pulmonary veins through the left auricle into the ventricle of the same -side, by which it is distributed into all parts of the body, driving the -vitiated blood before it; and the vitiated blood is pushed into and -along the veins to the right auricle, and thence is sent into the right -ventricle, which propels it by the pulmonary artery through the lungs. -In this manner a double circulation is kept up by the sole agency of the -heart, through the lungs, and through the body; the contractions of the -auricles and ventricles taking place alternately. To prevent any -backward motion of the blood in the superficial veins, which might -happen from their liability to external pressure, they are also provided -with simple and very complete valves which admit of a passage only -towards the heart. They were first remarked by Fabricius ab -Aquapendente, and exhibited in his lectures to Harvey among the rest of -his pupils; but their function remained a mystery till it was explained -by the discovery of the circulation. It is related by Boyle, upon -Harvey’s own authority, that the first idea of this comprehensive -principle suggested itself to him when considering the structure of -these valves. - -The pulmonary circulation had been surmised by Galen, and maintained by -his successors; but no proof even of this insulated portion of the -truth, more than amounted to strong probability, had been given till the -time of Harvey; and no plausible claim to the discovery, still less to -the demonstration, of the general circulation has ever been set up in -opposition to his. Indeed its truth was quite inconsistent with the -ideas everywhere entertained in the schools on the functions of the -heart and other viscera, and was destructive of many favourite theories. -The new doctrine, therefore, as may well be supposed, was received by -most of the anatomists of the period with distrust, and by all with -surprise. Some of them undertook to refute it; but their objections -turned principally on the silence of Galen, or consisted of the most -frivolous cavils: the controversy, too, assumed the form of personal -abuse even more speedily than is usually the case when authority is at -issue with reason. To such opposition Harvey for some time did not think -it necessary to reply; but some of his friends in England, and of the -adherents to his doctrine on the Continent, warmly took up his defence. -At length he was induced to take a personal share in the dispute in -answer to Riolanus, a Parisian anatomist of some celebrity, whose -objections were distinguished by some show of philosophy, and unusual -abstinence from abuse. The answer was conciliatory and complete, but -ineffectual to produce conviction; and in reply to Harvey’s appeal to -direct experiment, his opponent urged nothing but conjecture and -assertion. Harvey once more rejoined at considerable length; taking -occasion to give a spirited rebuke to the unworthy reception he had met -with, in which it seems that Riolanus had now permitted himself to join; -adducing several new and conclusive experiments in support of his -theory; and entering at large upon its value in simplifying physiology -and the study of diseases, with other interesting collateral topics. -Riolanus, however, still remained unconvinced; and his second rejoinder -was treated by Harvey with contemptuous silence. He had already -exhausted the subject in the two excellent controversial pieces just -mentioned, the last of which is said to have been written at Oxford -about 1545; and he never resumed the discussion in print. Time had now -come to the assistance of argument, and his discovery began to be -generally admitted. To this indeed his opponents contributed by a still -more singular discovery of their own, namely, that the facts had been -observed, and the important inference drawn long before. This was the -mere allegation of envy, chafed at the achievements of another, which, -from their apparent facility, might have been its own. It is indeed -strange that the simple mechanism thus explained should have been -unobserved or misunderstood so long; and nothing can account for it but -the imperceptible lightness as well as the strength of the chains which -authority imposes on the mind. - -In the year 1623 Harvey became Physician Extraordinary to James I., and -seven years later was appointed Physician to Charles. He followed the -fortunes of that monarch, who treated him with great distinction, during -the first years of the civil war, and he was present at the battle of -Edgehill in 1642. Having been incorporated Doctor of Physic by the -University of Oxford, he was promoted by Charles to the Wardenship of -Merton College in 1645; but he did not retain this office very long, his -predecessor Dr. Brent being reinstated by the parliament after the -surrender of Oxford in the following year. - -Harvey then returned to London and resided with his brother Eliab at -Cockaine-house in the Poultry. About the time of Charles’s execution he -gave up his practice, which had never been considerable, probably in -consequence of his devotion to the scientific, rather than the practical -parts of his profession. He himself, however, attributed his want of -success to the enmity excited by his discovery. After a second visit to -the Continent, he secluded himself in the country, sometimes at his own -house in Lambeth, and sometimes with his brother Eliab at Combe in -Surrey. Here he was visited by his friend Dr. Ent in 1651, by whom he -was persuaded to allow the publication of his work on the Generation of -Animals. It was the fruit of many years of experiment and meditation; -and though the vehicle of no remarkable discovery, is replete with -interest and research, and contains passages of brilliant and even -poetical eloquence. The object of his work is to trace the germ through -all its changes to the period of maturity; and the illustrations are -principally drawn from the phenomena exhibited by eggs in the process of -incubation, which he watched with great care, and has described with -minuteness and fidelity. The microscope had not at that time the -perfection it has since attained; and consequently Harvey’s account of -the first appearance of the chick is somewhat inaccurate, and has been -superseded by the observations of Malpighi, Hunter, and others. The -experiments upon which he chiefly relied in this department of natural -history had been repeated in the presence of Charles I., who appears to -have taken great interest in the studies of his physician. - -In the year 1653, the seventy-fifth of his life, Harvey presented the -College of Physicians with the title-deeds of a building erected in -their garden, and elegantly fitted up at his expense, with a library and -museum, and commodious apartments for their social meetings. Upon this -occasion he resigned the Professorship of Anatomy, which he had held for -nearly forty years, and was succeeded by Dr. Glisson. - -In 1654 he was elected to the Presidency of the College, which he -declined on the plea of age; and the former President, Sir Francis -Prujean, was re-elected at his request. Two years afterwards he made a -donation to the college of a part of his patrimonial estate to the -yearly value of £56, as a provision for the maintenance of the library -and an annual festival and oration in commemoration of benefactors. - -At length his constitution, which had long been harassed by the gout, -yielded to the increasing infirmities of age, and he died in his -eightieth year, on the 3d of June, 1657. He was buried at Hempstead in -Essex, in a vault belonging to his brother Eliab, who was his principal -heir, and his remains were followed to the grave by a numerous -procession of the body of which he had been so illustrious and -munificent a member. - -The best edition of his works is that edited by the College of -Physicians in 1766, to which is prefixed a valuable notice of his life, -and an account of the controversy to which his discovery of the -circulation gave rise. All that remain of his writings in addition to -those which have been already mentioned, are an account of the -dissection of Thomas Parr, who died at the age of 153, and a few letters -addressed to various Continental anatomists. His lodgings at Whitehall -had been plundered in the early part of the civil war, of many papers -containing manuscript notes of experiments and observations, chiefly -relating to comparative anatomy. This was a loss which he always -continued to lament. The missing papers have never been recovered. - -In person he was below the middle size, but well-proportioned. He had a -dark complexion, black hair, and small lively eyes. In his youth his -temper is said to have been very hasty. If so he was cured of this -defect as he grew older; for nothing can be more courteous and temperate -than his controversial writings, and the genuine kindness and modesty -which were conspicuous in all his dealings with others, with his -instructive conversation, gained him many attached and excellent -friends. He was fond of meditation and retirement; and there is much in -his works to characterize him as a man of warm and unaffected piety. - -There are several histories of his life; a very elegant one has lately -been published in a volume of the Family Library, entitled ‘Lives of -British Physicians.’ - -[Illustration: - - _Engraved by C. E. Wagstaff._ - - SIR J. BANKS. - - _From a Picture by J. Phillips, in the possession of the Royal - Society._ - - Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful - Knowledge. - - _London. Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._ -] - - - - -[Illustration] - - BANKS - - -Posterity is likely to do scanty justice to the merits of Banks, when -the grateful recollections of his contemporaries shall have passed away. -His name is connected with no great discovery, no striking improvement; -and he has left no literary works from which the extent of his industry, -or the amount of his knowledge can be estimated. Yet he did much for the -cause of science; much by his personal exertions, more by a judicious -and liberal use of the advantages of fortune. For more than half a -century a zealous and successful student of natural history in general, -and particularly of botany, the history of his scientific life is to be -found in the records of science during that long and active period. We -shall not attempt to compress so intricate and extensive a subject -within the brief limits of three or four pages; but confine ourselves to -a short sketch of his character and personal adventures. Some fitting -person will, it is to be hoped, ere too late, undertake to write the -life of our distinguished countryman upon a scale calculated to do -justice to his merits: at present this task is not only unperformed, but -unattempted. - -Joseph Banks was born in London, February 13, 1743. Of his childhood we -find few memorials. He passed through the ordinary routine of education; -having been first committed to the care of a private tutor at home, then -placed at Harrow, afterwards at Eton, and finally sent to complete his -studies at Christchurch, Oxford. Born to the inheritance of an ample -fortune, and left an orphan at the age of eighteen, it is no small -praise that he was not allured by the combined temptations of youth, -wealth, and freedom, to seek his happiness in vicious, or even idle -pleasures. Science, in one of its most attractive branches, the study of -animated nature, was his amusement as a schoolboy, and the favourite -pursuit of his mature years: and he was rewarded for his devotion, not -merely in the rank and estimation which he obtained by its means, but -also in his immunity from the dangers which society throws in the way of -those who have the means of gratifying their own passions, and the -vanities and interests of their friends. - -He quitted the university in the year 1763. In 1766 he gave a proof of -his zeal for knowledge by engaging in a voyage to Newfoundland. He was -induced to choose that most unattractive region, by having the -opportunity of accompanying a friend, Lieutenant Phipps, afterwards Lord -Mulgrave, well known as a navigator of the Polar Seas, who was sent out -in a ship of war to protect the fisheries. Soon after his return a much -more interesting and important field of inquiry was opened to him by the -progress of discovery in the southern hemisphere. In 1764 Commodore -Byron, in 1766 Captains Wallis and Carteret were sent into the South -Sea, to investigate the geography of that immense and then unfrequented -region. These expeditions were succeeded in 1768 by another under the -command of Captain Cook, who first obtained celebrity as a navigator -upon this occasion. Lord Sandwich, then First Lord of the Admiralty, -possessed an estate in Lincolnshire on the borders of Whittlesea Mere. -Mr. Banks’s chief property lay in the same neighbourhood: and it so -chanced that similarity of tastes, and especially a common predilection -for all aquatic amusements, had produced a great intimacy between the -statesman and his young country neighbour. To this fortunate -circumstance it may probably be ascribed, that on Mr. Banks expressing a -wish to accompany the projected expedition, his desire was immediately -granted. His preparations were made on the most liberal scale. He laid -in an ample store of such articles as would be useful or acceptable to -the savage tribes whom he was about to visit: and besides the usual -philosophical apparatus of a voyage of discovery, he engaged two -draughtsmen to make accurate representations of such objects as could -not be preserved, or conveyed to England; and he secured the services of -Dr. Solander, a Swedish naturalist, a pupil of Linnæus, who had -previously been placed on the establishment of the British Museum. The -history of this voyage belongs to the life of Cook. The expedition bent -its course for the Southern Ocean, through the Straits of Le Maire, at -the southern end of America. Mr. Banks and Dr. Solander landed on the -desolate island of Terra del Fuego, where the severity of the cold had -very nearly proved fatal to several of their party. Dr. Solander in -particular was so entirely overcome by the drowsiness consequent on -extreme cold and exhaustion, that it was with great difficulty, and by -the unwearied exertion and resolution of his more robust companion, that -he was prevented from falling into that sleep which is the forerunner of -death. Their farther course lay through the islands of the Pacific Ocean -to Otaheite, which had been selected as a fitting place for the main -object of the voyage, the observing of the passage of Venus over the -sun’s disk. At that island their stay was consequently prolonged for -several months, during which the Europeans and the natives mingled -together, generally on the most friendly terms. In this intercourse Mr. -Banks took a very leading part. His liberality, and the high station -which he evidently held among the strangers, conciliated the attachment -and respect of the unpolished islanders: and the mingled suavity and -firmness of his temper and demeanour rendered him singularly fitted both -to protect the weaker party from the occasional wantonness or -presumption of their visitors, and to check their knavery, and obtain -satisfaction for the thefts which they not unfrequently committed. Once -the astronomical purposes of the navigators were nearly frustrated by -the loss of the large brass quadrant; and the recovery of this important -instrument was chiefly due to the exertions and influence of Mr. Banks. -Both hemispheres owe to him a tribute of gratitude; for while he gave -the savages the improved tools, the esculent vegetables, and the -domesticated animals of Europe, his exertions led to the introduction of -the breadfruit, and of the productive sugar-cane peculiar to Otaheite, -into our West-India colonies. - -After the lapse of three years the voyagers returned home, and were -received with lively interest by all classes of society. Part of their -collections were lost through an accident which happened to the vessel: -but the greater portion was preserved, and their novelty and beauty -excited the admiration of naturalists. George III., who delighted in -everything connected with horticulture and farming, manifested a warm -interest in inquiring into the results of the expedition, and conceived -a liking for the young traveller, which continued unimpaired even to the -close of his public life. - -It was Mr. Banks’s intention to accompany Captain Cook in his second -voyage, in 1772: but the Navy Board showed no willingness to provide -that accommodation which the extent of his preparations and the number -of his scientific followers required, and he gave up the project, which -indeed he could not satisfactorily execute. In the summer of that year -he went to Iceland. Passing along the western coast of Scotland, he was -led to visit Staffa, in consequence of local information; and to his -description that singular island was first indebted for its general -celebrity. He spent a month in Iceland. An account of this visit has -been published by M. Von Troil, a Swedish clergyman, who formed one of -the party. On this, as on other occasions, Mr. Banks, unwearied in quest -of knowledge, seemed careless of the fame to which most would have -aspired as the reward of their labours. Of none of his travels has he -himself given any account in a separate publication; indeed, a few -papers in the Horticultural Transactions, and a very curious account of -the causes of mildew in corn, not printed for sale, constitute the mass -of his published works. But his visit was productive of much good to the -Icelanders, though it remained uncommemorated in expensive quartos. He -watched over their welfare, when their communication with Denmark was -interrupted by war between that country and England; and twice sent -cargoes of corn, at his own expense, to relieve their sufferings in -seasons of scarcity. His benevolence was warmly acknowledged by the -Danish Court. - -Returning to England, Mr. Banks, at the early age of thirty, entered on -that tranquil and useful course of life, from which during a long series -of years he never deviated. His thirst for travel was checked or -satiated; he undertook no more distant expeditions, but he ceased not to -cultivate the sciences, for which he had undergone so many hardships. It -was long hoped that he would publish some account of the rich harvest of -vegetable productions which he had collected in the unknown regions of -the Pacific; and for this purpose it was known that he had caused a very -large number of plates to be engraved at a great expense: but, most -probably owing to the death of Solander, these have never been given to -the world. But if he hesitated to communicate himself to the public the -results of his labours, in amends his museum and his library were placed -most freely at the command of those who sought, and were able to profit -by his assistance; and to these sources many splendid works, especially -on botany, have mainly owed their merits, and perhaps their existence. - -From the period of his return from Iceland Mr. Banks took an active part -in the affairs of the Royal Society. His house was constantly open to -men of science, whether British or foreign, and by the urbanity of his -manners, and his liberal use of the advantages of fortune, he acquired -that popularity which six years afterwards led to his election as -President of that distinguished body. Two or three years afterwards a -dangerous schism had nearly arisen in the Society, chiefly in -consequence of the unreasonable anger of a party of mathematicians, -headed by Dr. Horsley, afterwards Bishop of St. David’s, who looked with -contempt on sciences unsusceptible of mathematical proof, and loudly -exclaimed against the chair of Newton being filled, as they phrased it, -by an amateur. It would be little profitable to rake up the embers of an -ancient and unworthy feud. We shall only state therefore that Banks was -elected in November, 1778; that for some time a violent opposition was -raised against him; and that in January, 1784, the Society, by a formal -resolution, declared itself satisfied with the choice which it had made. -Horsley and a few others seceded, and for the rest of his life Banks -continued the undisputed and popular president; a period of forty-one -years from the epoch of his election. - -We have said that at an early age Mr. Banks was fortunate in gaining the -royal favour; marks of which were not wanting. In 1781 he was created a -baronet; in 1795 he received the Order of the Bath, then very rarely -bestowed upon civilians and commoners; and in 1797 he was made a Privy -Councillor. The friendship between the King and the subject was cemented -by similarity of pursuits; for the latter was a practical farmer as well -as a philosopher, and under his care the value of his estates in -Lincolnshire was considerably increased by improvements in the drainage -of that singular country, in the direction of which Sir Joseph took an -active part. He is said to have possessed such influence over the King’s -mind, that ministers sometimes availed themselves of it to recommend a -measure unpalatable to their honest but somewhat obstinate master. We -know not whether this be better founded than most other stories of -back-stairs influence, easily thrown out and difficult to be refuted: it -is at least certain that if Banks possessed such power, he deserves -great credit for the singular moderation with which he used it. For -himself he asked and received nothing: fortunately his station in -society was one which renders disinterestedness an easy, if not a common -virtue. His influence was directed to facilitate scientific -undertakings, to soften to men of science the inconveniences of the long -war of the Revolution, to procure the restoration of their papers and -collections when taken by an enemy, or the alleviation of their -sufferings in captivity. The French were especially indebted to him for -such services. It is said by an eminent member of the Institute, in his -Eloge upon Banks, that no less than ten times, collections addressed to -the Jardin du Roi at Paris, and captured by the English, were restored -by his intercession to their original destination. He thought that -national hostility should find no entrance among followers of science; -and the delicacy of his views on this subject is well displayed in a -letter written on one of these occasions to Jussieu, where he says that -he would on no account rob of a single botanical idea a man who had gone -to seek them at the peril of his life. In 1802 the National Institute of -France, being then re-modelled, elected him at the head of their Foreign -Associates, whose number was limited to eight. Cavendish, Maskelyne, and -Herschel were also members of this distinguished list. In replying to -the letter which announced this honour, Sir Joseph Banks expressed his -gratitude in terms which gave offence to some members of that -distinguished Society over which he himself presided. This exposed him -to a virulent attack from an anonymous enemy, who published the letter -in question in the English papers, accompanied by a most acrimonious -address to the author of it; prompted, it is evident, not so much by a -reasonable and patriotic jealousy, as by ancient pique, and a bitter -detestation even of the science of revolutionary France. - -Towards the close of life Sir Joseph Banks, who in youth had possessed a -robust constitution, and a dignified and prepossessing figure, was -grievously afflicted by gout. He endured the sufferings of disease with -patience and cheerfulness, and died May 19, 1820, leaving no children. -Lady Banks, whom he had married in 1779, survived him several years. His -magnificent library he devised to the British Museum; and among other -bequests for scientific purposes, he left an annuity to Mr. Frederic -Bauer, an artist whom he had long employed in making botanical drawings -from the garden at Kew, upon condition that he should continue the -series. - -[Illustration: Banksia ericifolia.] - - - END OF VOL. I. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES - - - 1. Changed “he had a numerous offspring” to “he had numerous offspring” - on p. 3. - 2. Changed “campaigns bolder style” to “campaigns a bolder style” on p. - 70. - 3. Silently corrected typographical errors. - 4. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed. - 5. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. - 6. Superscripts are denoted by a carat before a single superscript - character or a series of superscripted characters enclosed in - curly braces, e.g. M^r. or M^{ister}. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Gallery of Portraits: with -Memoirs. 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