diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/69994-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/69994-0.txt | 7274 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 7274 deletions
diff --git a/old/69994-0.txt b/old/69994-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 8461d02..0000000 --- a/old/69994-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7274 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The triumphs of perseverance and -enterprise, by Thomas Cooper - -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 -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The triumphs of perseverance and enterprise - -Author: Thomas Cooper - -Release Date: February 9, 2023 [eBook #69994] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Bob Taylor, Brian Coe, the book cover image was created by - the transcriber and is placed in the public domain, and the - Online Distributed Proofreading Team at - https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images - generously made available by The Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRIUMPHS OF PERSEVERANCE -AND ENTERPRISE *** - - - - - - Transcriber’s Note - Italic text displayed as: _italic_ - - - - -[Illustration: SALVATOR ROSA.] - - - - - THE - - TRIUMPHS OF PERSEVERANCE - - AND - - ENTERPRISE. - - [Illustration: MICHAEL ANGELO.] - - LONDON: - DALTON AND CO., HOLBORN HILL. - - - - - THE - - TRIUMPHS OF PERSEVERANCE - - AND - - ENTERPRISE: - - _Recorded as Examples for the Young._ - - - “Lives of great men all remind us - We may make our lives sublime; - And, departing, leave behind us - Footprints on the sands of time.”—LONGFELLOW. - - - LONDON - DARTON AND CO., HOLBORN HILL. - - - - - LONDON: - WILLIAM STEVENS, PRINTER, 37, BELL YARD, - TEMPLE BAR. - - - - -PREFACE. - - -These records of the Triumphs of Perseverance and Enterprise have -been written with the view to inspire the youthful reader with a -glow of emulation, and to induce him to toil and to advance in the -peaceful achievements of science and benevolence, remembering the -adage, “Whatever man has done, man may do.” - - - - -CONTENTS - -TO - -THE TRIUMPHS OF PERSEVERANCE. - - - CHAPTER I. - - LINGUISTS. - - PAGE - - Sir William Jones—Dr. Samuel Lee 1 - - - CHAPTER II. - - AUTHORS. - - Shakespeare—Spenser—Johnson—Gifford—Gibbon 22 - - - CHAPTER III. - - ARTISTS. - - Canova—Chantrey—Salvator Rosa—Benjamin West 45 - - - CHAPTER IV. - - MUSICIANS. - - Handel 69 - - - CHAPTER V. - - SCIENTIFIC DISCOVERERS AND MECHANICIANS. - - Sir Humphrey Davy—Sir Richard Arkwright—Dr. Edward - Cartwright—James Watt—Columbus—Sir Isaac - Newton—Sir William Herschel—Reaumur—Hon. - Robert Boyle 80 - - - CHAPTER VI. - - MEN OF BUSINESS. - - Sir Thomas Gresham—Lackington 112 - - - CHAPTER VII. - - PHILANTHROPISTS. - - John Howard 122 - - - CONCLUSION. - - Dignity and advantages of Labour, and encouragements of - Perseverance 141 - - - - -CONTENTS - -TO - -THE TRIUMPHS OF ENTERPRISE. - - - INTRODUCTION. - - PAGE - - Enterprise—a distinguishing trait of civilisation 145 - - - CHAPTER I. - - Enterprise as displayed in Man’s combats with, and mastery - over the Wild Animals—General Putnam’s engagements - with Wolves—Lieutenant Evan Davies’s capture - of a Tiger—Combats with Wild Elephants in India—Account - of the Whale Fishery, its dangers and its excitements—Is - Whale Fishery justifiable on humane - grounds? 148 - - - CHAPTER II. - - Enterprise as displayed in overcoming natural difficulties - in visiting new Regions of the Earth—Travels of the - African Discoverers, Major Denham, Dr. Oudney, and - Captain Clapperton—Arctic Travellers, Dr. Edward - Daniel Clark, Captain Cochrane—Perils of Mr. - Temple’s journey from Peru to Buenos Ayres—Humboldt’s - description of South America—Suffering occasioned - by Mosquitoes—Captain Back’s Arctic Land - Expedition—Annoyance of the Sand-flies—Sir John - Franklin’s gentleness 165 - - - CHAPTER III. - - Enterprise as displayed in Maritime Discovery—Increased - dangers attending the Voyage—Perilous condition of - Ross and his companions—Terrors of an Iceberg—Wearisomeness - of an Arctic Winter—Departure from - the Ship across the Ice—Singular return to his Vessel—Wretched - plight of himself and companions—Drake’s - Voyage round the World—Safe return and knighthood - by Queen Elizabeth 190 - - - CHAPTER IV. - - Belzoni’s Discoveries in Egypt 214 - - - CHAPTER V. - - Enterprise as displayed in construction of Roads, Harbours, - Bridges, Lighthouses, &c—Gibbon’s description - of the great Roman Highways—Bell’s account of - the Great Wall of China—Porcelain Tower of Nankin—Famous - Slide of Alpnach in Switzerland—Monument - to the memory of Peter the Great—Eddystone - Lighthouse—Plymouth Breakwater 243 - - - CONCLUSION. - - Gradual reception of the truth that War, under an - circumstances, is an evil to be deplored 279 - - - - -THE - -TRIUMPHS OF PERSEVERANCE. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - -LINGUISTS. - -SIR WILLIAM JONES.—DR. SAMUEL LEE. - - -“If that boy were left naked and friendless on Salisbury Plain, he -would find the road to fame and riches!” the tutor of SIR WILLIAM -JONES was accustomed to say of his illustrious pupil. His observation -of the great quality of _perseverance_, evinced in every act of study -prescribed to his scholar, doubtless impelled the teacher to utter -that remarkable affirmation. A discernment of high genius in young -Jones, with but little of the great quality we have named, would have -led Dr. Thackeray to modify his remark. It would have been couched -in some such form as this: “If that boy had as much perseverance -as genius, he would find the road to fame and riches, even if he -were left naked and friendless on Salisbury Plain.” But, had the -instructor regarded his pupil as one endowed with the most brilliant -powers of mind, yet entirely destitute of perseverance, he would -have pronounced a judgment very widely different from the first. -“Alas, for this boy!” he might have said, “how will these shining -qualities, fitfully bursting forth in his wayward course through -life, displaying their lustre in a thousand beginnings which will -lead to nothing, leave him to be regarded as an object of derision -where he might have won general admiration and esteem, and cast him -for subsistence on the bounty or pity of others, when he might have -been a noble example of self-dependence!” - -Let the reflection we would awaken by these introductory sentences -be of a healthy character. It is not meant that celebrity or wealth -are the most desirable rewards of a well-spent life; but that the -most resplendent natural powers, unless combined with application -and industry, fail to bring happiness to the heart and mind of the -possessor, or to render him useful to his brother men. It is sought -to impress deeply and enduringly on the youthful understanding, the -irrefragable truth that, while genius is a gift which none can create -for himself, and may be uselessly possessed, perseverance has enabled -many, who were born with only ordinary faculties of imagination, -judgment, and memory, to attain a first-rate position in literature -or science, or in the direction of human affairs, and to leave a -perpetual name in the list of the world’s benefactors. - -Has the youthful reader formed a purpose for life? We ask not -whether he has conceived a vulgar passion for fame or riches, but -earnestly exhort him to self-enquiry, whether he be wasting existence -in what is termed amusement, or be daily devoting the moments at -his command to a diligent preparation for usefulness? Whether he -has hitherto viewed life as a journey to be trod without aims and -ends, or a grand field of enterprise in which it is both his duty -and interest to become an industrious and honourable worker? Has he -found, by personal experience, even in the outset of life, that time -spent in purposeless inactivity or frivolity produces no results -on which the mind can dwell with satisfaction? And has he learned, -from the testimony of others, that years so misspent bring only a -feeling of self-accusation, which increases in bitterness as the -loiterer becomes older, and the possibility of “redeeming the time” -becomes more doubtful? Did he ever reflect that indolence never yet -led to real distinction; that sloth never yet opened the path to -independence; that trifling never yet enabled a man to make useful or -solid acquirements? - -If such reflections have already found a place in the reader’s mind, -and created in him some degree of yearning to make his life not -only a monument of independence, but of usefulness, we invite him -to a rapid review of the lives of men among whom he will not only -find the highest exemplars of perseverance, but some whose peculiar -difficulties may resemble his own, and whose triumphs may encourage -him to pursue a course of similar excellence. Purposing to awaken -the spirit of exertion by the presentation of striking examples -rather than the rehearsal of formal precepts, we proceed to open -our condensed chronicle with a notice of the universal scholar just -named, and whose world-famed career has entitled him to a first place -in the records of the “Triumphs of Perseverance.” - - -SIR WILLIAM JONES, - -[Illustration: SIR WILLIAM JONES] - -Happily, had early admonitions of perseverance from his mother, in -whose widowed care he was left at three years old; and who, “to -his incessant importunities for information, which she watchfully -stimulated,” says his biographer, Lord Teignmouth, “perpetually -answered, ‘Read, and you will know,’” His earnest mind cleaved to -the injunction. He could read any English book rapidly at four years -of age; and, though his right eye was injured by an accident at -five, and the sight of it ever remained imperfect, his determination -to learn triumphed over that impediment. Again, the commencement -of life seemed discouraging: he had been placed at Harrow School, -at the age of seven, but had his thigh-bone broken at nine, and -was compelled to be from school for twelve months. Such was his -progress, in spite of these untoward circumstances, and although -characterised, let it be especially observed, as a boy “remarkable -for diligence and application rather than superiority of talent,” -that he was removed into the upper school, at Harrow, in his twelfth -year. At this period he is found writing out the entire play of the -“Tempest,” from memory, his companions intending to perform it, and -not having a copy in their possession. Virgil’s Pastorals and Ovid’s -Epistles are, at the same age, turned into melodious English verse by -him; he has learned the Greek characters for his amusement, and now -applies himself to the language in earnest; his mother has taught him -drawing, during the vacations; and he next composes a drama, on the -classic story of “Meleager,” which is acted in the school. During the -next two years he “wrote out the exercises of many of the boys in the -upper classes, and they were glad to become his pupils;” meanwhile, -in the holidays, he learned French and arithmetic. - -But this early and unremitting tension of the mind, did it not leave -the heart uncultured? Were not pride and overweening growing within, -and did not sourness of temper display itself, and repel some whom -the young scholar’s acquirements might otherwise have attached to -him? Ah! youthful reader, thou wilt never find any so proud as the -ignorant; and, if thou wouldst not have thy heart become a garden of -rank and pestilential weeds, leave not the key thereof in the soft -hand of Indolence, but entrust it to the sinewed grasp of Industry. -What testimony give his early companions to the temper and hearing -of young Jones? The celebrated Dr. Parr—in his own person also a -high exemplar of the virtue we are inculcating—was his playmate in -boyhood, remained his ardent friend in manhood, and never spoke of -their early attachment without deep feeling. Dr. Bennet, afterwards -Bishop of Cloyne, thus speaks of Sir William Jones: “I knew him from -the early age of eight or nine, and he was always an uncommon boy. I -loved him and revered him: and, though one or two years older than he -was, was always instructed by him.” ... “In a word, I can only say -of this amiable and wonderful man, that he had more virtues and less -faults than I ever yet saw in any human being; and that the goodness -of his head, admirable as it was, was exceeded by that of his heart.” - -With the boys, generally, he was a favourite. Dr. Sumner, who -succeeded Dr. Thackeray, used to say Jones knew more Greek than -himself. He soon learned the Arabic characters, and was already -able to read Hebrew. A mere stripling, yet he would devote whole -nights to study, taking coffee or tea as an antidote to drowsiness. -Strangers were accustomed to enquire for him, at the school, under -the title of “the great scholar.” But Dr. Sumner, during the last -months spent at Harrow, was obliged to interdict the juvenile “great -scholar’s” application, in consequence of a returning weakness in his -injured eye: yet he continued to compose, and dictated to younger -students; alternately practising the games of Philidor and acquiring -a knowledge of chess. He had added a knowledge of botany and fossils -to the acquirements already mentioned, and had learned Italian during -his last vacation. - -Let us mark, again, whether all this ardent intellectual activity -cramps the right growth of the affections, and warps the heart’s -sense of filial duty. “His mother,” says his excellent biographer, -“allowed him unlimited credit on her purse; but of this indulgence, -as he knew her finances were restricted, he availed himself no -further than to purchase such books as were essential to his -improvement.” And when he is removed, at the age of seventeen, to -University College, Oxford, he is not anxious to enter the world -without restraint; his mother goes to reside at Oxford, “at her son’s -request.” And how he toiled, and wished for college honours, not for -vain distinction, not for love of gain, but from the healthy growth -of that filial affection, which had strengthened with his judgment -and power of reflection! He “anxiously wished for a fellowship,” says -Lord Teignmouth, “to enable him to draw less frequently upon his -mother, knowing the contracted nature of her income.” His heart was -soon to be gratified. - -He commenced Arabic zealously, soon after reaching the University; -he perused, with assiduity, all the Greek poets and historians -of note; he read the entire works of Plato and Lucian, with -commentaries, constantly ready, with a pen in his hand, to make any -remark that he judged worth preserving. What a contrast to the -“reader for amusement,” who will leave the priceless treasure of a -book ungathered, because it is hid in what he calls a “lumbering -folio,” and it wearies his hands, or it is inconvenient to read it -while lying along at ease on the sofa! Yet this “great scholar” was -no mere musty book-worm; he did not claim kindred with Dryasdust. -While passing his vacations in London, he daily attended the noted -schools of Angelo, and acquired a skill in horsemanship and fencing, -as elegant accomplishments; his evenings, at these seasons, being -devoted to the perusal of the best Italian, Spanish, and Portuguese -writers. At the University, how was the stripling urging his way -into the regions of oriental learning—that grand high-road of his -fame that was to be! He had found Mirza, a Syrian, who possessed a -knowledge of the vernacular Arabic, and spent some portion of every -morning in writing out a translation of Galland’s French version of -the Arabian Tales into Arabic, from the mouth of the Syrian; and he -then corrected the grammatical inaccuracies by the help of lexicons. -From the Arabic he urged his way into the Persian, becoming soon -enraptured with that most elegant of all eastern languages. Such was -this true disciple of “Perseverance” at the age of _nineteen_. - -And now some measure of the rewards of industry, honour, and virtue -begin to alight upon him. He is appointed tutor to Lord Althorpe, son -of the literary Earl Spencer; finds his pupil possessed of a mind and -disposition that will render his office delightful; has the range of -one of the most splendid private libraries in the kingdom, together -with the refined and agreeable society of Wimbledon Park; and is -presented, soon after, with a fellowship by his college. - -Mark well, from two incidents which occur about this time, what -high conscientiousness, deep modesty, and sterling independence -characterise the true scholar. The Duke of Grafton, then premier, -offered him the situation of government interpreter for eastern -languages. He declined it, recommending the Syrian, Mirza, as one -better qualified to fill it than himself. His recommendation was -neglected; and his biographer remarks that “a better knowledge of -the world would have led him to accept the office, and to convey -the emoluments to his friend Mirza. He was too ingenuous to do -so. He saw the excellent lady who afterwards became his wife and -devoted companion in study; but ‘his fixed idea of an honourable -independence, and a determined resolution never to owe his fortune -to a wife, or her kindred, excluded all ideas of a matrimonial -connection,’” at that period, although the affection he had conceived -was ardent. - -In the year of his majority, we find him commencing his famous -“Commentaries on Asiatic Poetry;” copying the keys of the Chinese -language; learning German, by conversation, grammar, and dictionary, -during three weeks passed at Spa with his noble pupil; acquiring -a knowledge of the broad-sword exercise from an old pensioner at -Chelsea; continuing to attend the two schools of Signor Angelo; and -secretly taking lessons in dancing from Gallini, the dancing-master -of Earl Spencer’s family, until he surprises the elegant inhabitants -of Wimbledon by joining with grace in the amusements of their evening -parties. - -Such was the truly magnificent advancement made by this illustrious -disciple of “Perseverance,” up to the age of twenty-one. Think, -reader, how much may be done in the opening of life! How elevated the -course of Sir William Jones! What cheering self-approval must he have -experienced, in looking back on the youthful years thus industriously -spent; but what humbling reflection, what severe self-laceration -would he have felt, had he allowed indolence to master him, ease to -enervate him, listlessness and dissipation to render him a nameless -and worthless nothing in the world! - -At the close of his twenty-first year he peruses the little treatise -of our ancient lawyer, Fortescue, in praise of the laws of England. -His large learning enabled him to compare the laws of other countries -with his own; and though he had, hitherto, enthusiastically preferred -the laws of republican Greece, reflection, on the perusal of this -treatise, led him to prefer the laws of England to all others. His -noble biographer adds a remark which indicates the solidity and -perspicacity of Sir William Jones’s judgment:—“He was not, however, -regardless of the deviations in practice from the theoretical -perfection of the constitution, in a contested election, of which -he was an unwilling spectator.” Yet the perfect _theory_ of our -constitution so far attracted him, as to lead him, from this time, to -the resolve of uniting the study of the law to his great philological -acquirements; his purpose was neither rashly formed, nor soon -relinquished, like the miscalled “purposes” of weak men and idlers; -it resulted in his elevation to high and honourable usefulness, in -the lapse of a few years. - -In his twenty-second year the “great scholar” undertakes a task -which no other quality than perseverance could have enabled him to -accomplish. The King of Denmark, then on a visit to this country, -brought over with him an eastern manuscript, containing a life of -Nadir Shah, and expressed his wish to the officers of government to -have it translated into French, by an English scholar. The under -secretary of state applied to Sir William Jones, who recommended -Major Dow, the able translator of a Persian history, to perform the -work. Major Dow refused: and, though hints of greater patronage did -not influence the inclination of Sir William Jones, his reflection -that the reputation of English learning would be dishonoured by -the Danish king taking back the manuscript, with a report that no -scholar in our country had courage to undertake the difficult labour, -impelled him to enter on it. The fact that he had a French style -to acquire, in order to discharge his task, and had, even then, to -get a native Frenchman to go over the translation, to render it a -scholar-like production, made the undertaking extremely arduous. -It was, however, accomplished magnificently; and the adventurous -translator added a treatise on oriental poetry, “such as no other -person in England could then have written.” He was immediately -afterwards made a member of the Royal Society of Copenhagen, and was -recommended by the King of Denmark to the particular patronage of his -own sovereign. - -At twenty-six he was made a fellow of the Royal Society of England, -and took his degree of Master of Arts the year after. Meanwhile he -was composing his celebrated Persian Grammar; had found the means -of entering effectively on the study of Chinese, a language at that -time surrounded with unspeakable difficulties; had written part of a -Turkish history; and was assiduously copying Arabic manuscripts in -the Bodleian. The “Commentaries on Asiatic Poetry” were published in -his twenty-eighth year, being five years after they were finished; -his modesty, that invariable attendant of true merit, and his love -of correctness, having induced him to lay the manuscript before -Dr. Parr, and other profound judges, ere he ventured to give his -composition to the world. Amidst so many absorbing engagements his -biographer still notes the correct state of his heart. He was a -regular correspondent with his excellent mother, and ever paid the -most affectionate attention to her and his sister. - -In his twenty-eighth year he devotes himself more exclusively to his -legal studies, goes the Oxford circuit after being called to the bar, -and afterwards attends regularly at Westminster Hall. Except the -publication of a translation of the speeches of Isæus, he performs no -remarkable literary labour for the next few years; his professional -practice having become very considerable, and his thoughts being -strongly directed towards a vacant judgeship, at Calcutta, as the -situation in which he felt assured, by the union of his legal -knowledge with his skill in oriental languages, he could best serve -the interests of learning and of mankind. - -Before this object of his laudable ambition was attained, however, -Sir William Jones gave proof, as our great Englishman, Milton, had -given before him, that the mightiest erudition does not narrow, but -serves truly to enlarge the mind, and to nourish its sympathies with -the great brotherhood of humanity. The war with the United States of -America had commenced, and he declared himself against it; he wrote -a splendid Latin ode, entitled “Liberty,” in which his patriotic -and philanthropic sentiments are most nobly embodied; and became -a candidate, on what are now called “liberal principles,” for the -representation of Oxford. He withdrew, after further reflection, from -the candidateship, still purposing to devote his life to the East, -but not before he had testified his disapproval of harsh ministerial -measures, by publishing an “Enquiry into the legal mode of -suppressing riots, with a constitutional plan for their suppression.” -Finally, to the record of this part of his life, Lord Teignmouth -adds the relation, that Sir William Jones had found time to attend -the lectures of the celebrated John Hunter, and to acquire some -knowledge of anatomy; while he had advanced sufficiently far into the -mathematics to be able to read and understand the “Principia” of Sir -Isaac Newton. - -The last eleven years of the illustrious scholar’s life form the most -brilliant part of his career, and only leave us to lament that his -days were not more extended. In the month of March, 1783, being then -in his thirty-seventh year, he was appointed a judge of the supreme -court of judicature, Fortwilliam, Calcutta, and on that occasion -received the honour of knighthood. In the following month he married -the eldest daughter of Dr. Shipley, Bishop of St. Asaph, and thus -happy in a union with the lady to whom he had been long devoted, -almost immediately embarked for India. - -As a concluding lesson from the life of Sir William Jones, let -us note how unsubduable is the intellect trained by long and -early habits of perseverance, under the corrupting and enfeebling -influences of honours and prosperity. On the voyage, the “great -scholar” drew up a list of “Objects of Enquiry.” If he could have -fulfilled the gigantic schemes which were thus unfolding themselves -to his ardent mind, the world must have been stricken with amazement. -The list is too long to be detailed here; suffice it to say, that it -enumerates the “Laws of the Hindus and Mahommedans,” “The History of -the Ancient World;” all the sciences, all the arts and inventions -of all the Asiatic nations, and the various kinds of government in -India. Following the list of “Objects of Enquiry,” is a sketch of -works he purposes to write and publish; including “Elements of the -Laws of England,” “History of the American War,” an epic poem, to be -entitled “Britain Discovered,” “Speeches, Political and Forensic,” -“Dialogues, Philosophical and Historical,” and a volume of letters, -with translations of some portions of the Scriptures into Arabic and -Persian. - -Intense and indefatigable labour enabled him to complete his masterly -“Digest of Mahommedan and Hindu Law,” but to accomplish this work, -so invaluable to the European conquerors of Hindoostan, he had -first, critically, to master the Sanscrit, at once the most perfect -and most difficult of known languages. If it be remembered that Sir -William Jones was also most active in the discharge of his judicial -duties, our admiration will be increased. His translation of the -“Ordinances of Menu,” a Sanscrit work, displaying the Hindoo system -of religious and civil duties—and of the Indian drama of “Sacontala,” -written a century before the Christian era—and his production of a -“Dissertation on the Gods of Greece, Italy, and Rome,” were among the -last of his complete works. He also edited the first volume of the -“Asiatic Researches;” and gave an impetus to eastern enquiry among -Europeans, by instituting the Asiatic Society, of which he was the -first president. His annual discourses before that assembly have been -published, and are well known and highly valued. - -The death of this great and good man, though sudden, being occasioned -by the rapid liver complaint of Bengal, was as peaceful as his life -had been noble and virtuous. A friend, who saw him die, says that he -expired “without a groan, and with a serene and complacent look.” -His death took place on the 27th April, 1794, when he was only in -his forty-eighth year; yet he had acquired a “critical knowledge” -of eight languages—English, Latin, French, Italian, Greek, Arabic, -Persian, Sanscrit; he knew eight others less perfectly, but was -able to read them with the occasional use of a dictionary—Spanish, -Portuguese, German, Runic, Hebrew, Bengalee, Hindostanee, Turkish; -and he knew so much of twelve other tongues, that they were perfectly -attainable by him, had life and leisure permitted his continued -application to them—Tibetian, Pâli, Phalavi, Deri, Russian, Syriac, -Ethiopic, Coptic, Welsh, Swedish, Dutch, Chinese. Twenty-eight -languages in all; such is his own account. When you sum up the -other diversified accomplishments and attainments of the scarce -forty-eight years of Sir William Jones, reflect deeply, youthful -reader, on what may be achieved by “perseverance,” and when you have -reflected—_resolve_. - -To that emphatic early lesson of “read and you will learn,” and to -his ready opportunities and means of culture, we must, undoubtedly, -attribute much of the “great scholar’s” success. In the life of -one still living, and enjoying the honours and rewards of virtuous -perseverance, it will be seen that even devoid of help, unstimulated -by any affectionate voice in the outset, and surrounded with -discouragements, almost at every step, the cultivation of this grand -quality infallibly leads on to signal triumph. - - -DR. SAMUEL LEE, - -Now Regius Professor of Hebrew in the University of Cambridge, being -the son of a poor widow, who was left to struggle for the support of -two younger children, was apprenticed to a carpenter, at twelve years -of age, after receiving a merely elementary instruction in reading, -writing, and arithmetic in the charity-school of the village of -Longmore, in Shropshire. His love of books became fervent, and the -Latin quotations he found in such as were within his reach kindled a -desire to penetrate the mystery of their meaning. The sounds of the -language, too, which he heard in a Catholic chapel, where his master -had undertaken some repairs, increased this desire. At seventeen -he purchased “Ruddiman’s Latin Rudiments,” and soon committed the -whole to memory. With the help of “Corderius’ Colloquies,” “Entick’s -Dictionary,” and “Beza’s Testament,” he began to make his way into -the vestibule of Roman learning; but of the magnificent inner-glory -he had, as yet, scarcely caught a glimpse. The obstacles seemed so -great for an unassisted adventurer, that he one day besought a priest -of the chapel, where he was still at work, to afford him some help. -“Charity begins at home!” was the repelling reply to his application; -but, whether meant to indicate the priest’s own need of instruction, -or sordid unwillingness to afford his help without pecuniary -remuneration, does not appear. Unchilled by this repulse, the young -and unfriended disciple of “perseverance” girt up “the loins of -his mind” for his solitary but onward travel. Yet how uncheering -the landscape around him! Think of it, and blush, young reader, -if thou art surrounded with ease and comfort, but hast yielded to -indolence; ponder on it, and take courage, if thou art the companion -of hardship, but resolvest to be a man, one day, amongst men. Young -Lee’s wages were but six shillings weekly at seventeen years old; and -from this small sum he had not only to find food, but to pay for his -washing and lodging. The next year his weekly income was increased -one shilling, and the year following another. Privation, even of the -necessaries of life, he had to suffer, not seldom, in order to enable -himself to possess what he desired, now more intensely than ever. He -successively purchased a Latin Bible, Cæsar, Justin, Sallust, Cicero, -Virgil, Horace, Ovid; having frequently to sell his volume as soon -as he had mastered it in order to buy another. But what of that? The -true disciple of perseverance looks onward with hope—hope which is -not fantastic, but founded in the firmest reason—to the day when his -meritorious and ennobling toil shall have its happy fruition, and he -shall know no scarcity of books. - -Conquest of one language has inspired him with zeal for further -victory; it is the genuine nature of enterprise. Freed from his -apprenticeship he purchases a Greek grammar, testament, lexicon, -and exercises; and soon, the self-taught carpenter, the scholar of -toil and privation, holds converse, in their own superlative tongue, -with the simple elegance of Xenophon, the eloquence and wisdom of -Plato, and the wit of Lucian; he becomes familiar with the glorious -“Iliad,” with the pathos and refinement, the force and splendour, of -the “Antigone,” of Sophocles. - -“Unaided by any instructor, uncheered by any literary companion,” -says one who narrates the circumstances of his early career, “he -still persevered.” What wonder, when he had discovered so much to -cheer him in the delectable mental realm he was thus subduing for -himself! And he was now endued with the full energy of conquest. -He purchased “Bythner’s Hebrew Grammar,” and “Lyra Prophetica,” -with a Hebrew Psalter, and was soon able to read the Psalms in the -original. Buxtorf’s grammar and lexicon with a Hebrew Bible followed; -an accident threw in his way the “Targum” of Onkelos, and with the -Chaldee grammar in Bythner, and Schindler’s lexicon, he was soon -able to read it. Another effort, and he was able to read the Syriac -Testament and the Samaritan Pentateuch, thus gaining acquaintance -with four branches of the ancient Aramœan or Shemitic family of -languages, in addition to his knowledge of the two grand Pelasgic -dialects. - -He was now five-and-twenty, and had mastered six languages, without -the slightest help from any living instructor; some of the last-named -books were heavily expensive; yet, true to the nobility of life that -had distinguished his early youth, he had not relaxed the reins of -economy, but had purchased a chest of tools, which had cost him -twenty-five pounds. - -Suddenly an event befel him which seemed to wither not only his -prospects of further mental advancement, but plunged him into -the deepest distress. A fire, which broke out in a house he was -repairing, consumed his chest of tools; and, as he had no money to -purchase more, and had now to feel solicitude for the welfare of -an affectionate wife, as well as for himself, his affliction was -heavy. In this distracting difficulty he turned his thoughts towards -commencing a village school, but even for this he lacked the means -of procuring the necessary, though scanty, furniture. Uprightness -and meritorious industry, however, seldom fail to attract benevolent -help to a man in need. Archdeacon Corbett, the resident philanthropic -clergyman of Longmore, heard of Samuel Lee’s distress, sent for him, -and on hearing the relation of his laudable struggles, used his -interest to place him in the mastership of Shrewsbury Charity School, -giving him what was of still higher value, an introduction to the -great oriental scholar, Dr. Jonathan Scott. - -New triumphs succeeded his misfortunes, and a cheering and -honourable future was preparing. Dr. Scott put into the hands of -his new and humble friend elementary books on Arabic, Persian, and -Hindostanee; and, in a few months, the disciple of perseverance was -not only able to read and translate, but even essayed to compose -in his newly-acquired languages. So effectually had he mastered -these eastern tongues, that the good doctor used his influence in -introducing him as private tutor to sons of gentlemen going out to -India; and, after another brief probation, procured him admission -into Queen’s College, Cambridge. - -Our sketch of this remarkable living scholar may here be cut short. -He has made himself master of twenty languages, distinguished himself -alike by the virtue of his private life, his practical eloquence -in the pulpit and zeal for the church, of which he is an honoured -member; and, in addition to the service he has rendered to oriental -literature, by his new Hebrew grammar and lexicon, his revision of -Sir William Jones’s Persian grammar, and a number of philological -tracts, has won respect and gratitude, by diligent and laborious -supervision of numerous translations of the Scriptures into eastern -tongues, prepared by the direction and at the cost of the British and -Foreign Bible Society. - -If the young scholar be bent on the acquirement of languages, he -will find, in the lives of Alexander, Murray, Leyden, Heyne, Carey, -Marshman, Morrison, Magliabechi, and a hundred others, striking -proofs of the ease with which the mind overcomes all difficulties -when it is armed with determination, and never becomes a recreant -from the banner of perseverance. - - - - -CHAPTER II. - -AUTHORS. - -SHAKSPEARE.—SPENSER.—-JOHNSON.—GIFFORD.—GIBBON. - - -Creative genius is popularly held to be dependent on faculties -widely diverse from those required by the mere man of learning. The -linguist is usually regarded as a traveller on a beaten track; the -poet, as a discoverer of new regions. Success for the man of learning -is considered to depend on diligence in the exercise of the memory -and judgment; while obedience to impulse seems to be the mental -law popularly allotted to poets. Let the young reader inquire for -himself, whether there is not something of fallacy in this popular -notion. - - -SHAKSPEARE, - -The most highly endowed of human intelligences, was under as great -necessity of learning the vocabulary of the English tongue as the -very commonest mind. He, like all other men, however inferior to -him in understanding or imagination, was born without any innate -knowledge of things, or their natures, words, or the rules for -fashioning them in order, or combining them with grace and harmony, -eloquence and strength. Every author of the first class was in the -same predicament mentally at birth; they had everything to learn, -and the perfection of their learning depended on their own effort. -It may be equally affirmed, then, of the highest poet and the -greatest linguist, of Shakspeare and Sir William Jones, that neither -had any “royal road” for gaining his peculiar eminence. - -[Illustration: SHAKSPEARE] - -The little we know of the personal history of Shakspeare renders it -necessary for us to attribute a very ample measure of his unrivalled -excellence to that quality of the mind which we are insisting upon -as requisite for the performance of great and exalted labours. If it -be true that schoolmasters taught him little, how indefatigable must -have been that perseverance which enabled him, not simply to equal, -but so immeasurably to transcend his more learned contemporaries and -fellow-workers, in the wealth of his language, and in the beauty and -fitness of its application! If his helps were few, so much the more -astonishing is the energy and continuity of effort which issued in -securing for him who exerted it the highest name in the world’s -literature. Nor can minds of primal order be satisfied with a passing -ovation that may be forgotten; they thirst to render their triumphs -monumental. Our grand dramatist piled effort upon effort, until he -left to the world the priceless legacy of his thirty-seven plays. -His mind had none of the sickly quality which views a settled form -of composition as irksome, and indulges its unhealthy fantasies in -irregular and useless essays. He wrought out his magnificent and -self-appointed task to the end; he made his own monument worthy of -himself. - -[Illustration: BIRTHPLACE OF SHAKSPEARE.] - - -SPENSER, - -[Illustration: SPENSER] - -Was not less an exemplar of diligence than of skill in the -architecture of verse. The mere task-work of constructing three -thousand eight hundred and fifty-four stanzas, comprising forty-four -thousand six hundred and sixty-eight lines, would have wearied -out the industry of any mind whose powers were not indefatigable. -He died, too, before his magnificent design was complete, or the -elaborate monument of his fame might have been still more colossal. -Superiority to mental indolence, so manifest in the lives of -Shakspeare and Spenser, is equally noticeable in the cases of Chaucer -and Milton, of Ben Jonson and Beaumont and Fletcher, of Dryden and -Pope, of Byron and Wordsworth, our other great poets; and, indeed, in -the histories of the great poets of all nations. When the quantity -of their composition is considered, and it is remembered how much -thought must have been expended in the bringing together of choice -materials, how much care in the polishing and adorning of each part, -and of the whole, of their seemly fabrics, the degree of perseverance -exercised in the erection of so many immortal superstructures of the -mind is presented to reflection with commanding self-evidence. But -let us track, more circumstantially, the life-path, so proverbial for -vicissitude, of some of the children of genius, that we may see how -the energy of true men is neither quelled by difficulty nor enervated -by success. - - -JOHNSON, - -Afterwards so famous as the great arbiter of literary criticism, is -found leaving college without a degree, and, from sheer poverty, at -the age of twenty-two. The sale of his deceased father’s effects, -a few months after, affords him but twenty pounds, and he is -constrained to become an usher in a grammar school in Leicestershire. -In the next year he performs a translation of “Lobo’s Voyage to -Abyssinia” for a Birmingham bookseller, returns to Lichfield, his -birth-place, and publishes proposals for printing, by subscription, -the Latin poems of Politian, the life of that author, and a history -of Latin poetry from the era of Petrarch to the time of Politian. His -project failed to attract patrons, and he next offered his services -to Cave, the original projector of the “Gentleman’s Magazine.” Cave -accepted his offer, but on conditions which compelled Johnson to make -application elsewhere for earning the means of living. He again -offered to become assistant to the master of a grammar school; but, -in spite of the great learning he had even then acquired, he was -rejected, from the fear that his peculiar nervous and involuntary -gestures would render him an object of ridicule with his pupils. -Such was one of the disabilities of constitution under which this -humbly-born and strong-minded man laboured through life. - -[Illustration: Johnson] - -Won, not by his ungainly person, but by the high qualities of his -mind, a widow, with a little fortune of eight hundred pounds, yielded -him her hand, in this season of his poverty; and he immediately -opened a classical school in his native town. The celebrated -Garrick, then about eighteen years old, became his pupil. His scheme, -however, did not succeed; his newly acquired property was exhausted; -and he and Garrick, then eight years his junior, set out together -for London, with the resolve to seek their fortunes in the larger -world. Garrick in a short time was acknowledged as the first genius -on the stage, and made his way to wealth almost without difficulty. -A longer and more toilful period of trial fell to the lot of the -scholar and author. He first offered to the booksellers a manuscript -tragedy, supposed to be his “Irene,” but could find no one willing -to accept it. Cave gave him an engagement to translate the “History -of the Council of Trent.” He received forty-nine pounds for part of -the translation, but it was never completed for lack of sale. His -pecuniary condition was so low, soon after this, that he and Savage, -having walked, conversing, round Grosvenor Square, till four in -the morning, and beginning to feel the want of refreshment, could -not muster between them more than fourpence-halfpenny! He received -ten guineas for his celebrated poem of “London;” but though Pope -said, “The author, whoever he was, could not be long concealed,” -no further advantage was derived by Johnson from its publication. -Hearing of a vacancy in the mastership of another grammar school in -Leicestershire, he, once more, proceeds thither as a candidate. The -consequences of the poverty which had prevented him from remaining at -the university till he could take a degree were now grievously felt. -The statutes of the place required that the person chosen should be -a Master of Arts. Some interest was made to obtain him that degree -from the Dublin University; but it failed, and he was again thrown -back on London. - -In spite of his melancholic constitution, these repeated -disappointments, so far from filling him with despair, seem only -to have quickened his invention, and strengthened his resolution -to continue the struggle for fame. He formed numerous projects -on his return to the metropolis; but none succeeded except his -contributions to the “Gentleman’s Magazine;” these were, chiefly, the -“Parliamentary Debates,” which the world read with the belief that -they were thus becoming acquainted with the eloquence of Chatham, -Walpole, and their compeers, and little dreaming that those speeches -were “written in a garret in Exeter Street,” by a poverty-stricken -author. The talent displayed in this anonymous labour did not serve, -as yet, to free him from difficulties. He next undertook to collect -and arrange the tracts forming the miscellany, entitled “Harleian.” -Osborne, the bookseller, was his employer in this work; and, having -purchased Lord Oxford’s library, the bookseller also employed Johnson -to form a catalogue. To relieve his drudgery, Johnson occasionally -paused to peruse the book that came to hand; Osborne complained of -this; a dispute arose; and the bookseller, with great roughness, -gave the author the lie. The incident so characteristic of Johnson, -and so often related, now took place—Johnson seized a folio, and -knocked the bookseller down. The act was far from justifiable; but -his indignation under the offence must have been great, as his -rigid adherence to speaking the truth was so observable, that one of -his most intimate friends declared “he always talked as if he were -speaking on oath.” - -He escaped, at length, from some degree of the humiliation which -attaches to poverty. He projected his great work—the English -Dictionary; several of the wealthiest booksellers entered into -the scheme, and Johnson now left lodging in the courts and alleys -about the Strand, and took a house in Gough Square, Fleet Street. -This did not occur till he was eight-and-thirty; so great a portion -of life had he passed in almost perpetual contest with pecuniary -difficulties; nor was he entirely freed from them for some years -to come. During the years spent in the exhausting labour of his -Dictionary, the fifteen hundred guineas he received for the -copyright were consumed on amanuenses, and the provision necessary -for himself and his wife. The “Rambler” was written during these -years in which his Dictionary was in course of publication, and the -circumstances of its composition are most note-worthy among the -“Triumphs of Perseverance.” With the exception of five numbers, -every essay was written by Johnson himself; and it was regularly -issued every Tuesday and Friday, for two years. The perseverance -which enabled him so punctually to execute a stated task, even while -continuously labouring in the greater work in which he was engaged, -is remarkable: but the young reader’s thought ought to be more deeply -fixed on the consideration that a life of unremitting devotion to -study—unconquered by difficulty, and straitness of circumstances—had -rendered him able easily to pour forth the treasures of a full -mind. Although apparently the product of great care, and stored with -the richest moral reflections, these essays were usually written in -haste, frequently while the printer’s boy was waiting, and not even -read over before given to him. This was not recklessness in Johnson, -though it would have been folly in one whose mind was not most -opulently stored with matured thought, and who had not attained such -a habit of modulating sentences, as to render it almost mechanical. -Such attainments can only be reached by the most determined disciple -of perseverance. “A man may write at any time, if he will set himself -doggedly to it,” was Johnson’s own saying; but he could not have -verified it, unless his mind, by assiduous application, had been -filled with the materials of writing. He was, likewise, held in high -celebrity as the best converser of his age; but he acknowledged that -he had attained his extraordinary accuracy and flow of language by -having early laid it down as a fixed rule to arrange his thoughts -before expressing them, and never to suffer a careless or unmeaning -expression to escape from him. - -The profits of a second periodical, “The Idler,” and the -subscriptions for his edition of Shakspeare, were the means by which -he supported himself for the four or five years immediately preceding -the age of fifty. His wife had already died, and his aged mother -being near her dissolution, in order to reach Lichfield, and pay her -the last offices of filial piety, he devoted one fortnight to the -composition of his beautiful and immortal tale of “Rasselas,” for -which he received one hundred pounds. He did not arrive in time to -close her eyes, but saw her decently interred, and then hastened back -to London, to go, once more, into lodgings and retrench expenses. -The next three years of his life appear to have been passed in even -more than his early poverty; but the end of his difficulties was -approaching. - -The last twenty-two years of his existence—from the age of -fifty-three to seventy-five—were spent in the receipt of a royal -pension of three hundred pounds per annum; in the society of persons -of fortune, who considered themselves honoured by the company of -the once poverty-stricken and unknown scholar; in the companionship -of Edmund Burke, and Oliver Goldsmith, and Sir Joshua Reynolds, and -Joseph Warton, and others whose names are durably written on the roll -of genius, and in the receipt of the highest honours of learning—for -the Universities, both of Dublin and Oxford, conferred upon him the -degree of Doctor of Laws, and the Oxford University had previously -sent him the degree of Master of Arts. Regarded as the great umpire -of literary taste, receiving deference and respect wherever he -went, and no longer driven to his pen by necessity, this honoured -exemplar of perseverance did not pass through his remaining course -in unproductive indolence. In addition to less important works, his -“Lives of the Poets” was produced in this closing period of his life, -and is well known as the most valuable and useful of his labours, -with the exception of his great Dictionary. - - -WILLIAM GIFFORD, - -[Illustration: WILLIAM GIFFORD] - -In the early circumstances of his life, is a still more striking -exemplar of the virtue of perseverance. He was left an orphan at -thirteen years of age, was sent to sea for a twelvemonth, and was -then taken home by his godfather, who had seized upon whatever his -mother had left, as a means of repaying himself for money lent to -her, and was now constrained to pay some attention to the boy, by -the keen remonstrances of his neighbours. He was sent to school, and -made such rapid progress in arithmetic that, in a few months, he was -at the head of the school, and frequently assisted his master. The -receipt of a trifle for these services raised in him the thought of -one day becoming a schoolmaster, in the room of a teacher in the -town of Ashburton, who was growing old and infirm. He mentioned his -scheme to his godfather, who treated it with contempt, and forthwith -apprenticed him to a shoemaker. His new master subjected him to the -greatest degradation, made him the common drudge of his household, -and took from him the means of pursuing his favourite study of -arithmetic. - -“I could not guess the motives for this at first,” he says—for his -narrative is too remarkable at this period of his struggles, to be -told in any other than his own language—“but at length discovered -that my master destined his youngest son for the situation to which I -aspired. I possessed, at this time, but one book in the world, it was -a treatise on algebra, given to me by a young woman, who had found -it in a lodging-house. I considered it as a treasure, but it was a -treasure locked up, for it supposed the reader to be well acquainted -with simple equations, and I knew nothing of the matter. My master’s -son had purchased ‘Fenning’s Introduction;’ this was precisely what -I wanted; but he carefully concealed it from me, and I was indebted -to chance alone for stumbling upon his hiding-place. I sat up for -the greatest part of several nights, successively; and, before he -suspected that his treatise was discovered, had completely mastered -it. I could now enter upon my own, and that carried me pretty far -into the science. This was not done without difficulty. I had not a -farthing on earth, nor a friend to give me one; pen, ink, and paper, -therefore, were, for the most part, as completely out of my reach as -a crown and sceptre. There was, indeed, a resource, but the utmost -caution and secrecy were necessary in applying to it. I beat out -pieces of leather as smooth as possible, and wrought my problems on -them with a blunted awl; for the rest, my memory was tenacious, and I -could multiply and divide by it to a great extent.” - -He essayed the composition of rhyme, and the rehearsal of his verses -secured him a few pence from his acquaintances. He now furnished -himself with pens, ink, and paper, and even bought some books of -geometry and of the higher branches of algebra; but was obliged to -conceal them, and to pursue his studies by continued caution. Some of -his verses, however, were shown to his master, and were understood -to contain satirical reflections upon his oppressor. His books and -papers were seized upon, by way of punishment; and he was reduced to -the deepest despair. “I look back,” he says, in his own admirable -narrative, “on that part of my life which immediately followed this -event with little satisfaction: it was a period of gloom, and savage -unsociability: by degrees I sunk into a kind of corporeal torpor; -or, if roused into activity by the spirit of youth, wasted the -exertion in splenetic and vexatious tricks, which alienated the few -acquaintances compassion had left me.” - -The heart revolts at the brutal injustice which drove Gifford’s young -nature thus to harden itself into gloomy endurance of his lot, by -“savage unsociability;” but a mind like his could not take that stamp -for life. His disposition grew again buoyant, and his aspirations -began to rekindle, as the term of his bondage grew shorter. Had he -found no deliverance till it had legally expired, it may be safely -affirmed that he would then have forced his way into eminence by -self-assisted efforts; but an accidental circumstance emancipated him -a year before the legal expiry of his apprenticeship. Mr. Cookesley, -a philanthropic surgeon, having learnt from Gifford himself the facts -of his hard history, through mere curiosity awakened by hearing some -of his rhymes repeated, started ‘A subscription for purchasing the -remainder of the time of William Gifford, and for enabling him to -improve himself in writing and English grammar.’ Enough was collected -to satisfy his master’s demand, he was placed at school with a -clergyman, made his way into the classics, displayed such diligence -that more money was raised to continue him in his promising course; -and in two years and two months from the day of his liberation, he -was considered by his instructor to be fit for the University, and -was sent to Exeter College, Oxford. - -Perseverance! what can it not effect? It enabled Gifford to surmount -difficulties arising from the most vulgar and brutifying influences, -and to make his way triumphantly into an intellectual region of -delectable enjoyment. From a boy neglected and degraded—from a youth -baffled and thwarted in his aims at a higher state of existence -than that of merely living to labour in order to eat, drink, and -be clothed—from one fastening his desire upon knowledge, only to -be scorned and mocked, and treated as a criminal where he was -meriting applause—from a poor pitiable straggler longing for mental -breathing-room, amid the coarse conversation he would undoubtedly -hear from his master, and those who were his associates, and sinking -for some period into sullen despair with his hardship, that like -an untoward sky seemed to promise no break of relieving light—he -becomes a glad and easier student; is enabled not merely ‘to improve -himself in writing and English grammar,’ but, in six-and-twenty -months, becomes a converser, in their own noble language, with the -great spirits of Rome and Greece: and enters the most venerable arena -of learning in Britain, to become a rival in elegant scholarship -with the young heirs to coronets and titles, and to England’s -widest wealth and influence. What a change did those ancient halls -of architectural grandeur, with all their associations of great -intellectual names, present for the young and ardent toiler who, but -six-and-twenty months before, had bent over the _last_ from morning -to night, shut out from all that could cheer or elevate the mind, and -surrounded with nought but that which tended to disgust and degrade -it! - -Nor did the career of the young disciple of perseverance, when -arrived at his new and loftier stage of struggle, discredit the -foresight of those who had assisted him. His first benefactor died -before Gifford took his degree, but he was enabled by the generosity -of Lord Grosvenor to pursue his studies at the University to a -successful issue. After some absence on the continent, as travelling -tutor to the nobleman just mentioned, he entered on his course as an -author, and gained some distinction; but won his chief celebrity, -as well as most substantial rewards, while Editor of the “Quarterly -Review”—an office he held from the commencement of that periodical, -1809, till his death, on the last day of 1826, when he had reached -the age of seventy-one. In the performance of this critical service -he had a salary of one thousand a year; and it is a noble conclusion -to the history of this successful scholar of Perseverance, that -true-hearted gratitude led him to bequeath the bulk of his fortune to -Mr. Cookesley, the son of his early benefactor. - -The superiority of genius to difficulties, and the certainty with -which it achieves high triumphs through longer or shorter paths -of vicissitude, might be shown from the memoirs of Erasmus, and -Mendelsohn, and Goldsmith, and Holcroft, and Kirke White, and others, -almost a countless host. Early poverty may be said, however, to -stimulate the children of Genius to exertion; and its influence -may be judged to weaken the merit of their perseverance, since -their triumphs may be dated from deep desire to escape from its -disadvantages. That such a feeling has been participated by many, -or all, of the illustrious climbers after literary distinction, it -may not be denied; though the world usually attributes more to its -workings in the minds of men of genius than the interior truth, if -known, would warrant: the strong necessity to create—the restless -power to embody their thinkings—these deep-seated springs of exertion -in intellectual men, if understood, would afford a truer solution -of their motives for beginning, and the determination to excel for -continuing their course, than any mere sordid impulses with which -they are often charged. Let us turn to a celebrated name, around -which no irksome influences of poverty gathered, either at the -outset of his life, or in his progress to literary distinction. -His systematic direction of the knowledge acquired by inquiries -as profound as they were diversified, and his application of the -experience of life, alike to the same great end, afford an admirable -spectacle of the noblest perseverance, and of memorable victory over -the seductions of ease and competence. - - -GIBBON, - -[Illustration: Gibbon] - -The author of the unrivalled “Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire,” -was born to considerable fortune. He left the University at eighteen, -after great loss of time, as he tells us in his instructive -autobiography, and with what was worse, habits of expense and -dissipation. His father being under distressing anxiety on account -of his son’s irregularities, and, afterwards, from what he deemed -of greater moment, young Gibbon’s sudden avowal of conversion to -the doctrines of the Roman Catholic church, placed him abroad, under -the strict care of a Protestant minister. Gibbon began to awake -to reflection; and, without prescription from his new guardian, -voluntarily entered on severe study. He diligently translated the -best Roman writers, turned them into French, and then again into -Latin, comparing Cicero and Livy, and Seneca and Horace, with the -best orators and historians, philosophers and poets, of the moderns. -He next advanced to the Greek, and pursued a similar course with -the treasures of that noble literature. He afterwards commenced -an inquiry into the Law of Nations, and sedulously perused the -treatises of Grotius, Puffendorf, Locke, Bayle, and Montesquieu, the -acknowledged authorities on that great subject. He mentions three -books which absorbed more than the usual interest he felt in whatever -he read: “Pascal’s Provincial Letters,” the “Abbe de la Bléterie’s -Life of the Emperor Julian,” and “Giannone’s Civil History of -Naples:” the character of these works shadows forth the grand design -which was gradually forming in his mind. - -Yet without method, without taking care to store up this various -knowledge in such a mode that it might not be mere lumber in the -memory, he speedily discerned that even years spent in industrious -reading would be, comparatively, of little worth. He, therefore, -began to digest his various reading in a common-place book, according -to the method recommended by Locke. The eager and enthusiastic -student—for such he had now become—by this systematic arrangement -of his knowledge under heads, perceived his wants more distinctly, -and entered into correspondence for the solution of historic -difficulties, with some of the most illustrious scholars of his time, -among whom were Professors Crevier of Paris, Breittinger of Zurich, -and Matth. Gesner of Göttingen. From each of these learned men he -received such flattering notice of the acuteness of his inquiries, as -proved how well he had employed the time and means at his command. -His first work, written in French, the “Essay on the Study of -Literature,” was produced at three-and-twenty, after his laborious -reading of the best English and French, as well as Latin and Greek -authors. - -A transition was now made by him, from retired leisure to active -life. His father was made major of the Hampshire Militia, himself -captain of grenadiers, and the regiment was called out on duty. He -had to devote two years and a half to this employ, and expresses -considerable discontent with his “wandering life of military -servitude;” but thus judiciously tempers his observations: “In every -state there exists, however, a balance of good and evil. The habits -of a sedentary life were usefully broken by the duties of an active -profession.”... “After my foreign education, with my reserved temper, -I should long have continued a stranger to my native country, had I -not been shaken in this various scene of new faces and new friends; -had not experience forced me to feel the characters of our leading -men, the state of parties, the forms of office, and the operation of -our civil and military system. In this peaceful service I imbibed the -rudiments and the language and science of tactics, which opened a -new field of study and observation.... The discipline and evolutions -of a modern battalion gave me a clearer notion of the phalanx and -the legion; and the captain of the Hampshire grenadiers has not been -useless to the historian of the Roman empire.” - -Let the young reader observe how, even when a purpose is not as yet -distinctly formed, the leading events of life, as well as study, may -be made by the regal mind to bend and contribute to the realising of -one. Our great paramount duty is to husband time well, to let not an -hour glide uselessly, to go on extending our range of knowledge, and -resolving to act our part well, even while we are in uncertainty as -to what our part may be. The seed well sown, the germs well watered, -and a useful harvest must result, though neither we, nor any who look -on, for a while, may be able to prophesy of the quality or abundance -of the grain, seeing it is but yet in its growth. “From my early -youth I aspired to the character of an historian,” says Gibbon; -“while I served in the militia, before and after the publication of -my ‘Essay,’ this idea ripened in my mind.” - -Yet, he was for a time undecided as to a subject: the Expedition -of Charles the Eighth of France into Italy; the Crusade of Cœur -de Lion; the Barons’ Wars against John and Henry the Third; the -History of Edward the Black Prince; Lives and comparisons of Henry -the Fifth and the Emperor Titus; the Life of Sir Philip Sidney, -of the Marquis of Montrose, of Raleigh—and other subjects of high -interest, but each and all inferior to the one he at length -undertook, and for which his studies had all along peculiarly fitted -him, successively attracted his attention. Amidst the colossal ruins -of the amphitheatre of Titus, the idea at length was formed in his -mind of tracing the vicissitudes of Rome; and this idea swelled -until his conception extended to such a history as should depicture -the thousand years of change which fill up the period between the -reign of the Antonines and the conquest of Constantinople by the -Turks. Years of laborious study and research were necessary to -accomplish this gigantic labour; but it was perfected, and remains -the grandest historic monument ever raised by an Englishman. The -recent investigations of Guizot have more fully confirmed the fact of -the minute and careful inquiries of Gibbon, in bringing together the -vast and multifarious materials necessary for the accurate completion -of his design. His great work is, emphatically, for strictness of -statement, combined with such comprehensiveness of subjects, for -depth and clearness of disquisition, and for splendour of style, one -of the most magnificent “Triumphs of Perseverance.” - -And is the roll of these triumphs complete? Have the labours of -the past pretermitted the possibility of equal victories in the -future? Never, while the human mind exists, can the catalogue of its -successes be deemed to have found a limit or an end. Immense fields -of history remain yet untrodden and uncultivated; innumerable facts -throughout the ages which are gone remain to be collected by industry -and arranged by judgment; the ever-varying phases of human affairs -offer perpetual material for new chronicle: let none who meditates to -devote his youth to historical inquiry, with the meritorious resolve -to distinguish his manhood by some useful monument of solid thought, -imagine that his ground has been narrowed, but rather understand that -it has been cleared and enlarged by the noble workmen who have gone -before. - -Neither let the young and gifted, in whom the kindlings of creative -genius are felt, listen to the dull voices who say, “The last epic -has been written—no more great dramas shall be produced—the lyrics of -the past will never be equalled!” If such vaticinations were true, it -would show that the human mind was dwarfed. Shakspere did not believe -that, or he would not have excelled Sophocles. None but intellectual -cravens will affright themselves with the belief that they cannot -equal the doings of those who have gone before. True courage says, -“The laurel is never sere: its leaves are evergreen. The laurels -have not all been won: they flourish still, in abundance. The bright -examples of the past shall not deter, but cheer me. I will go on -to equal them. My life, like the lives of the earth’s truly great, -shall be devoted to thought, to research—to deep converse with the -mighty spirits who still live in their works, though their clay is -dissolved; I will prepare to build, and build carefully and wisely, -as they built; I also will rear my lasting memorial among “The -Triumphs of Perseverance!” - - - - -CHAPTER III. - -ARTISTS. - -CANOVA.—CHANTREY.—SALVATOR ROSA.—BENJAMIN WEST. - - -If a rude image of the South Sea islanders be compared with one -of Chantrey’s sculptures, or a Chinese picture with some perfect -performance of Raffaelle or Claude, what a world of reflection -unfolds itself on the countless steps taken by the mind, from -its first attempt at imitating the human form, or depicturing a -landscape, to the periods of its most successful effort in statuary -or painting. The first childish essay of a great artist, compared -with one of the masterpieces of his maturity, calls up kindred -thoughts. How often must the eye re-measure an object; how often -retrace the direction or inclination of the lines by which a figure -is bounded; what an infinite number of comparisons must perception -store up in the memory, as to the resemblance of one form to another; -what repeated scrutiny must the judgment exercise over what most -delights the ideal faculty, till the source of delight—the harmony -arising from combination of forms—be discovered and understood; and -how unweariedly must the intellect return, again and again, to these -its probationary labours, before the capability for realising great -triumphs in Art be attained. - -Doubtless, the mind of a young artist, like the mind under any -other process of training, exercises many of these acts with little -self-consciousness; but observation and comparison have, inevitably, -to be practised, and their results to be stored up in the mind, -before the hand can be directed and employed in accurate delineation -and embodiment of forms. Without diligence in this training, the -chisel of Chantrey would have failed to bring more life-like shapes -from a block of marble than the knife of a Sandwich islander carves -out of the trunk of a tree; and the canvas of Claude would have -failed as utterly to realise proportion, and sunlight, and distance, -as a piece of porcelain figured and coloured by a native of China. -As it is in the elaboration of Literature’s most perfect products -so it is in Art: into the mind his images must be taken; there they -must be wrought up into new combinations and shapes of beauty or of -power; and from this grand repository the statuary or painter, like -the poet, must summon his forms anew, evermore returning, dutifully, -to compare them with Nature and actual life, and sparing no effort to -clothe them with the attribute of veri-similitude. - -Need it be argued, then, that without _perseverance_ the world -would have beheld none of the wonders of high Art? If the mind, by -her own mysterious power, have, first, to pencil the forms of the -outward upon her tablets within; if she have, then, a greater work of -combination and creation to perform, ere a statue or a picture of the -ideal can be realised; if the hand, in a word, can only successfully -carve, limn, and colour, from the pattern laid up in the wealth of -the trained and experienced mind, how absolute the necessity for -perseverance to enrich and perfect that mind which is to direct -the hand! That neglect of this evident truth has marked the lives -of unsuccessful artists may, too often, be seen in the records of -them: while the deepest conviction of a duty to obey its dictates -has distinguished the world’s most glorious names in painting and -sculpture. Let us glance at the steps taken by a few of these, -in their way to _triumphs_; not unheedful, meanwhile, how their -exhibition of the great moral quality of perseverance enabled them to -trample on the difficulties of actual life, as well as to overcome -obstacles in their progress to perfect art. - - -ANTONIA CANOVA, - -The greatest of modern sculptors, was born in a mud-walled cabin of -an Alpine valley within the Venetian territories; and remained in the -care of Pasino, his grandfather, who was a stone-cutter, till his -twelfth year. Pasino, evermore employing enticement and tenderness -rather than compulsion began to instruct the child in drawing, as -soon as his little hand could hold a pencil; and even taught him -to model in clay at an early age. At nine years old, however, he -was set to work at stone-cutting; and, thenceforward, his essays in -art were but pursued as relaxations. Yet his boyish performances -were sufficiently remarkable to attract notice from the chief of -the patrician family of Falieri, for whom Pasino worked. This -nobleman took young Canova under his patronage, and placed him with -Toretto, a sculptor. His new preceptor was not very liberal in his -instructions; but the young genius secretly pursued his high bent, -and one day surprised Toretto by producing the figures of two angels -of singular beauty. His yearnings after excellence, at this period, -grew vast; but were indefinite. He often became disgusted with what -he had done; and to fitful dreams of beauty in Art succeeded moods of -despair; but he invariably returned to his models, imperfect as he -perceived them to be, and resolved to labour on from the point of his -present knowledge up to the mastery he coveted. - -[Illustration: ANTONIA CANOVA] - -On the death of Toretto, in Canova’s fifteenth year, Falieri removed -the aspiring boy to Venice. He was lodged in his patron’s palace; -but was too truly a man, in spite of his youth, to brook entire -dependence on another, and formed an engagement to work during -the afternoons for a sculptor in the city. “I laboured for a mere -pittance, but it was sufficient,” is the language of one of his -letters. “It was the fruit of my own resolution; and, as I then -flattered myself, the foretaste of more honourable rewards—for I -never thought of wealth.” Under successive masters, Canova acquired -a knowledge of what were then held to be the established rules of -sculpture, but made no important essay, except his Eurydice, which -was of the size of nature, and had “great merit” in the estimation -of his patron, although Canova himself thought not so highly of it. -Indeed, his genius was preparing to break away from the mannerism -of his instructors almost as soon as it was learnt. The works of -Bernini, Algardi, and other comparatively inferior artists, were then -taken for models rather than the Apollo, the Laocoon, the Venus, or -the Gladiator—the transcendent remains of ancient statuary. “The -unaffected majesty of the antique,” observes Mr. Mernes, Canova’s -English biographer, was then “regarded as destitute of force and -impression.” And as for Nature, “her simplicity was then considered -as poverty, devoid of elegance or grace.” Nature, therefore, was not -imitated by this school of sculptors; but, in the critical language -of one of their own countrymen, she was but “translated according to -conventional modes.” Canova spurned subjection to the trammels of -corrupt taste; and, after deep thought, his resolve was taken, and he -entered on a new and arduous path. He thenceforth “took Nature as the -text, and formed the commentary from his own elevated taste, fancy, -and judgment.” - -The exhibition of his Orpheus, the companion-statue to his Eurydice, -in his twentieth year, gave commencement to Canova’s success and -reputation, and proved the devotion with which he had applied himself -to the study of the anatomy of life, to whatever he observed to -be striking in the attitudes of living men, in the expression of -their countenances, in “the sculpture of the heart.” (_Il scolpir -del cuore_), as he so beautifully termed it. His style was foreign -to prevailing false taste; but it was so true to Nature that its -excellence won him general admiration. - -Rome, the great capital of Art, naturally became the theatre of his -ambition at this period; and, soon after his twenty-third birthday, -he enters on his career in the Eternal City, under the patronage of -the Venetian ambassador, obtained through Falieri’s friendship. With -rapture he beheld a mass of marble, which had cost what would equal -sixty-three pounds sterling, arrive at the ambassador’s palace, as an -assurance that he would have the material for accomplishing a great -work he had devised. Yet, with an overawed sense of the perfection he -now saw in the remains of ancient sculpture, and believing himself -deficient in the conception of ideal beauty, he studied deeply and -worked in secret, shutting himself up in a room of the ambassador’s -palace, after each daily visit to the grand galleries. His Theseus -and Minotaur was, at length, shown; and he was considered to have -placed himself at the head of living sculptors. - -Ten successive years of his life, after this triumph, were -devoted to funeral monuments of the Popes Clement the Fourteenth -(Ganganelli), and Clement the Twelfth (Rezzonico). “They were,” -says his biographer, “years of unceasing toil and solicitude, both -as the affairs of the artist did not permit of having recourse to -the assistance of inferior workmen, and as he meditated technical -improvements and modes of execution unknown to contemporaries. Much -valuable time was thus lost to all the nobler purposes of study, -while the conducting from their rude and shapeless state to their -final and exquisite forms such colossal masses was no less exhausting -to the mind than to the body. The method, however, which was now -first adopted, and subsequently perfected, not only allowed, in -future, exclusive attention to the higher provinces of art, but -enabled this master to produce a greater number of original works -than any other of modern times can boast.” These observations show -Canova to have been one of the noblest disciples of perseverance; -slighting the readier triumphs he might have won, by exerting his -skill with the customary appliances, he aimed to invent methods -whereby gigantic works in art might be more readily achieved, both by -himself and his successors: he prescribed for himself the work of a -discoverer, and he magnanimously toiled till he succeeded. - -Canova’s most perfect works were, of course, accomplished in his -full manhood. These were his Cupid and Psyche, Venus, Perseus, -Napoleon, Boxers, and Hercules and Lichas: creations which have made -so truthfully applicable to his glorious genius the immortal line of -Byron: - - “Europe, the world, has but one Canova.” - -Titles of honour were showered on him during his latter years; among -the rest that of “Marquis of Ischia;” but he esteemed all of them as -inferior to the triumph of his advocacy for the restoration of the -precious works of ancient art to Italy. He was commissioned by the -Pope for this undertaking, and his great name will be imperishably -united with the memory of its success. - -To all who are commencing the struggle of life the moral course of -Canova demands equally close imitation, with his persevering zeal -in the attainment of artistic excellence. He ever refused pecuniary -dependence; subjected himself to great disadvantages in carrying -out his designs, rather than submit to such dependence; and when a -pension of three thousand crowns was conferred upon him, towards the -close of his career, he refused to apply any portion of it to his -own gratification of a personal kind, and systematically devoted it, -yearly, to premiums for young competitors in art, instruction of -scholars in painting and sculpture, and pensions for poor and decayed -artists. Young reader, let the words of Canova, on his death-bed, -sink deeply into your mind, that they may actuate your whole life as -fully and nobly as they actuated his own:—“First of all we ought to -do our own duty; but—_first of all_!” - - -CHANTREY, - -[Illustration: CHANTREY] - -The most eminent of our sculptors, was another noble example of -successful perseverance. From a boy, accustomed to drive an ass -laden with sand into Sheffield, he rose to the highest honours of an -exalted profession; a large proportion of the persons of rank and -distinction in his own time sat to him for busts and statues: he was -knighted, and, like Canova, left considerable wealth at his death, -to be devoted through future time to the encouragement of Art. His -father, who was a small farmer in the neighbourhood of Sheffield, -wished to place him with a grocer or an attorney; but, at his own -urgent desire, he was apprenticed with a carver and gilder in that -town. An engraver and portrait-painter, perceiving his devotion -to Art, gave him some valuable instruction; but his master did -not incline to forward his favourite pursuits, fearing they would -interfere with his duties as an apprentice. Young Chantrey, however, -resolved not to be defeated in his aims, and hired a room for a few -pence a week, secretly making it his studio. His apprenticeship to -the carver and gilder having expired, he advertised in Sheffield to -take portraits in crayons; and two years afterwards announced that he -had commenced taking models from the life. Like Canova, but untaught, -he began to model in clay when a child; and, at two-and-twenty, he -thus began to realise his early bent. Yet patronage was but scanty at -Sheffield, and he successively visited Dublin, Edinburgh, and London, -working as a modeller in clay. But neither in these larger arenas of -merit did he immediately succeed according to his wish. Returning to -Sheffield, he modelled four busts of well-known characters there as -large as life, one of them being the likeness of the lately-deceased -vicar. This was a performance of such excellence that he was offered -a commission, by a number of the deceased clergyman’s friends, to -execute a monument to the same reverend personage for the parish -church. Chantrey had never yet lifted chisel to marble; and it, -therefore, required all the courage which consciousness of genius -alone could give to undertake such a task. It was the great turning -point of his life. He accepted the commission, employed a marble -mason to rough-hew the block, set about the completion himself, and -finished it most successfully. Thenceforward his course was open -to the excellence he displayed in giving life-like expression to -historic portraits, as in his marble statue of Watt in Westminster -Abbey, and his bronze statue of Pitt in Hanover Square; and, above -all, in infusing poetry into marble, as in his exquisite sculpture of -the Lady Louisa Russell at Woburn Abbey, and his unsurpassed group, -“the Sleeping Children,” in Lichfield cathedral. - -[Illustration: Sleepin children] - -In the lives of the great Michael Angelo himself, of Benvenuto -Cellini, and others, may also be found inspiring records of the -tameless and tireless energy which has secured to us many of the -great triumphs of sculpture. Our limits demand that we devote the -remainder of a brief chapter to a glance at the struggles of painters. - - -SALVATOR ROSA, - -[Illustration: SALVATOR ROSA] - -One of those high names which are everlasting monuments of the -success with which true genius bids defiance to the hostilities of -poverty and envy might be claimed, with pride and fondness, by either -of the sister arts of Poetry and Music, were it not that his greatest -triumphs were won in Painting. The wildness and sublimity of his -canvas had their types in the scenery of his birth-place—the ancient -and decayed villa of Renella, within view of Mount Vesuvius, and near -to Naples. His father was a poverty-stricken artist, and descended -from a family to whom poverty and painting had been heirlooms for -generations. Determined to avert the continuance of this inauspicious -union of inheritances in the life of his child, he took counsel -with his wife, and they resolved to dedicate him to the service of -the Church. He was, accordingly, taken to the font in the grand -church pertaining to the “Monks of the Certosa,” and piously named -“Salvatore,” as a sign and seal of the religious life to which his -parents had vowed to devote him. But the method they took to bind -him down to religious lessons was not wise, though their meaning was -no doubt good; and the boyish Rosa often became a truant, wandered -away for days among the rocks and trees, and frequently slept out in -the open air of that beautiful climate. His worship of the sublime -scenery with which he thus became familiar was soon evinced in the -fidelity of numerous sketches of picturesque he drew upon the walls -of one of the rooms in the large old house his father inhabited. -Unchecked by the reprehension of his parents, who dreaded nothing -more than the event of their child becoming an artist, he one day -entered the monastery of the Certosa, with his burnt sticks in his -hand—his only instruments of design—and began, secretly and silently, -to scrawl his wild sketches upon such vacant spaces as he could find, -on walls that abounded in the most splendid decorations of gold -and vermilion and ultra-marine. The monks caught him at his daring -labour, and inflicted upon him a severe whipping; but neither did -this subdue his thirst to become an artist. - -The perplexity of Salvator’s parents was now very great, and they -saw no chance of restraining the wayward spirit of their boy but in -confiding him to other tutelage; not reflecting that he had displayed -talents which it was peculiarly in their own power to direct and -foster into a perfection, the result of which might have been their -own relief and their child’s happiness. He was, at length, sent to a -monastic school; and “Salvatoriello,” the nickname his restlessness -and ingenious caprices had gained him, was thenceforth clad in -the long gown of a monk, in common with his young schoolfellows. -Repulsive as confinement might prove to his vehement disposition, it -was at this period that his mind received the solid culture which -enabled it to produce claims to literary distinction at a future -time. So long as his lessons were confined to Homer, Horace, and -Sallust, he manifested no disquiet in his restraint; but when the -day came that he must enter on the subtleties of the scholastic -philosophy, all his youthful rebelliousness against the forced and -injudicious religious tasks imposed on him by his own parents rose -up, and he was expelled the school of the monastery for contumacy. -The grief of his father and mother, at beholding their boy, in his -sixteenth year, thus sent back in disgrace to his indigent home, may -be easily conjectured. Yet this heavier disaster does not, in the -slightest degree, appear to have opened their eyes, as to the want -of judgment they had displayed in their child’s training: the mother -grew increasingly passionate in her desire that “Salvatoriello” -should be a churchman; and the father resolved, let the cast-out -schoolboy take whatever stamp he might, he should not, by his -parents’ help, become a painter. - -The occurrence of his eldest sister’s marriage to Francanzani, a -painter of considerable genius, opened, in another year, the way -for Salvator’s instruction in the art to which nature so strongly -inclined him. He had already essayed his powers in poetry and music, -having composed several lyrics, and set them to airs dictated by his -own imagination, feeling, and taste. These were great favourites with -the crowds of Naples, and were daily sung by the women who sat to -knit in the sunshine. His devotion to the composition of canzonets -was, however, ardently shared with the novel lessons of the studio, -as soon as the house of his sister’s husband was opened to him for -an asylum from the harshness of his parental home. To the teaching -of Francanzani he speedily added the copying of nature in the wilds -of his truant childhood: and often, when he returned from the -mountains with his primed paper full of sketches, his teacher would -pat him on the shoulder encouragingly, and say, “Rub on, rub on, -Salvatoriello—that is good!” The great painter often related to his -friends, in the after days of his fame, what energy he had derived -from those simple words of friendly approbation. - -Having learnt the elements of his profession, the young Rosa set out -to take his _giro_, according to the custom of all young painters at -that period. He did not, however, take his way through the cities of -Italy most famous for their galleries of Art, like other youthful -artists; but yielding to the bent of his natural genius struck up, -adventurously, into the mountains of the Abruzzi and the wilds of -Calabria. Here he was taken prisoner by banditti, and suffered -great hardships. Whether he escaped from them, or was, in the end, -liberated, is not clear; but when he returned to Naples, his mind was -full of the wondrous pictures of wild volcanic and forest scenery, -and striking forms and features of mountain robbers, which he, -forthwith, began to realise. - -New and more severe difficulties than he had ever yet had to -encounter fell to his lot, at his return. His father died in his -arms; a few days after, his brother-in-law, Francanzani, was -overwhelmed with poverty, and Salvator was left to struggle for -the support of his mother and sisters. Yet his strong spirit did -not sink. He laid aside music and poetry, and although too poor to -purchase canvas, began to depict his wild conceptions on primed -paper; and, at night, used to steal out and sell his sketches to some -shrewd Jew chapman for a vile price. His gains were pitiful, but he -strove, by redoubled industry, to swell their amount for a sufficient -supply of the family’s necessities. - -An accident served to bring into notice the genius whose high merit -had hitherto met with no public recognition. Lanfranco, the artist -who, with the courtly Spagnuoletto, shared the patronage of the rich -in Naples, stopped his equipage, one day, in the “Street of Charity,” -and called for a picture to be brought to him which arrested his -eye in the collection of one of the _rivendotori_, or second-hand -dealers. It was a masterly sketch of “Hagar in the Wilderness,” and -the obscure name of “Salvatoriello” was subscribed at the corner of -it. Lanfranco gave orders that all sketches which could be found -bearing that name should be bought for him. Rosa immediately raised -his prices; but, although this high acknowledgment of his merit -brought him the acquaintance of several influential names in his -profession, he was speedily so deeply disgusted with the jealousy and -envy of others, that he strapped all his fortune to his back, and at -the age of twenty set out on foot to seek better treatment at Rome. -There he studied energetically, worshipping, above all, the kindred -genius of Michael Angelo; but meeting with a renewal of neglect, -and taking a fever from the malaria, once more returned to Naples. -The misery in which his family was plunged was still greater than -at his departure; and another period of keen life-combat followed. -This repeated struggle did not depress him; but it gave his mind -that bitter tendency which he afterwards displayed in his poetical -“Satires.” - -At twenty-four, under the humble patronage of a domestic of the -Cardinal Brancaccia, he again went to Rome; and through the -friendship of the same plain acquaintance had a large and lonely -apartment provided for him, as a studio, in the cardinal’s palace. -Dependence nevertheless revolted his lofty spirit, and he again -returned to Naples, but engaged to send his pictures to his friend -for public exposure in Rome. His “Prometheus” was the first of his -pictures exhibited at one of the annual shows in the Pantheon, and -the public voice adjudged it to be the greatest. He obeyed a renewed -invitation to Rome, but it was still to meet with disappointment. -The next carnival furnished his versatile genius with an occasion -for winning, by humorous stratagem, the attention denied to his -more sterling merit. He put on a mask, and played the charlatan -and _improvisatore_ in the public streets, among a crowd of such -exhibitors as abound in Rome at such seasons; but soon eclipsed them -all by the splendour of his wit. Curiosity was raised to the highest -pitch, at the close of the carnival, respecting the identity of this -unequalled exhibitor; and when he was proclaimed to be the painter of -the “Prometheus” the admiration was unbounded. Salvator, now, for -some successive months, gave himself up to conversaziones, wherever -invited; and there, by his wit, his lute, and canzonettes, paved the -way for his greater acceptance as a painter. - -Jealousy, in that age of corrupt patronage and jealous artists, still -pursued him; but his genius, thenceforth, rose above all opposition. -His landscapes were in every palace, and he soon rose to affluence. -Yet the remainder of his life was chequered with difficulties into -which the vehemence of his nature perpetually plunged him. That -nature was unsubduable amidst all vicissitudes. The magnificent -creations of his “Socrates swallowing Poison,” “Purgatory,” “Prodigal -Son,” “St. Jerome,” “Babilonia,” and “Conspiracy of Catiline,” -with an almost innumerable catalogue of lesser pieces, flowed from -his pencil, during a life alternately marked by devotion to each -of the sister Arts, and, during one portion of it, to political -contest—for he flew to Naples, with all the ardour of patriotism, -and joined Masaniello, in his sincere but short-lived effort to -rescue his countrymen from a crushing despotism. His participation -in the celebrated fisherman’s conspiracy placed him in danger of the -Inquisition on his return to Rome; but, on retiring to Florence, he -became the favourite of the Grand Duke, Cosmo the Third, and entered -on a career of opulent success, which attended him to the end of life. - -The life-passages of Salvator Rosa, by injudicious thwarting of his -nature, were rendered thorny beyond those of the great majority of -men, and the amazing versatility of his talents, combined with -almost volcanic ardour of spirit, defied common rules; but the -strength of his judgment so completely gave him the victory over -influences that might have destroyed him, as to lead him to seek -the memorable “Triumphs of Perseverance” he secured by his supreme -devotion to that Art, in which there is reckoned no greater name for -sublimity and originality, and none of greater general excellence -than those of Raffaelle and Michael Angelo. Let the brief sketch of -Salvator Rosa be compared with the much more “even tenor” of the life -of another, that it may be seen how clearly, in spite of contrast, -many of the same valuable lessons are deducible from it. - - -BENJAMIN WEST, - -[Illustration: BENJAMIN WEST] - -An American Quaker by birth, was the youngest of a family of ten -children, and was nurtured with great tenderness and care; a prophecy -uttered by a preacher of the sect having impressed his parents with -the belief that their child would, one day, become a great man. -In what way the prophecy was to be realised they had formed to -themselves no definite idea; but an incident, which occurred in young -West’s sixth year, led his father to ponder deeply as to whether -its fulfilment were not begun. Benjamin, being left to watch the -infant child of one of his relatives while it was left asleep in the -cradle, had drawn its smiling portrait, in red and black ink, there -being paper and pens on the table in the room. This spontaneous -and earliest essay of his genius was so strikingly truthful that it -was instantly and rapturously recognised by the family. During the -next year he drew flowers and birds with pen and ink; but a party -of Indians, coming on a visit to the neighbourhood, taught him to -prepare and use red and yellow ochre and indigo. Soon after, he heard -of camel-hair pencils, and the thought seized him that he could make -use of a substitute, so he plucked hairs from the tail of a black -cat that was kept in the house, fashioned his new instrument, and -began to lay on colours, much to his boyish satisfaction. In the -course of another year a visitant friend, having seen his pictures, -sent him a box of colours, oils, and pencils, with some pieces of -prepared canvas and a few engravings. Benjamin’s fascination was now -indescribable. The seductions presented by his new means of creation -were irresistible, and he played truant from school for some days, -stealing up into a garret, and devoting the time, with all the -throbbing wildness of delight, to painting. The schoolmaster called, -the truant was sought, and found in the garret by his mother. She -beheld what he had done; and instead of reprehending him fell on his -neck and kissed him, with tears of ecstatic fondness. How different -from the training experienced by the poor, persecuted and tormented -“Salvatoriello!” What wonder, that the fiery-natured Italian -afterwards drew human nature with a severe hand; and how greatly -might his vehement disposition have been softened, had his nurture -resembled that of the child of these gentle Quakers! - -The friend who had presented him with the box of colours some time -after took him to Philadelphia, where he was introduced to a painter, -saw his pictures, the first he had ever seen except his own, and -wept with emotion at the sight of them. Some books on Art increased -his attachment to it; and some presents enabled him to purchase -materials for further exercises. Up to his eighteenth year, strange -as the facts seem, he received no instruction in painting, had to -carve out his entire course himself, and yet advanced so far as to -create his first historical picture, “The Death of Socrates,” and -to execute portraits for several persons of taste. His father, -however, had never yet assisted him; for, with all his ponderings -on the preacher’s prophecy, he could not shake off some doubts -respecting the lawfulness of the profession of a painter, to which -no one of the conscientious sect had ever yet devoted himself. A -counsel of “Friends” was therefore called together, and the perplexed -father stated his difficulty and besought their advice. After deep -consideration, their decision was unanimous that the youth should be -permitted to pursue the objects to which he was now both by nature -and habit attached; and young Benjamin was called in, and solemnly -set apart by the primitive brethren for his chosen profession. The -circumstances of this consecration were so remarkable, that, coupled -with the early prophecy already mentioned, they made an impression -on West’s mind that served to strengthen greatly his resolution for -advancement in Art, and for devotion to it as his supreme object -through life. - -On the death of his affectionate mother he finally left his father’s -house, and, not being yet nineteen, set up in Philadelphia as a -portrait-painter, and soon found plenty of employment. For the -three or four succeeding years he worked unremittingly, making his -second essay at historic painting within that term, but labouring -at portraits, chiefly with the view of winning the means to enable -himself to visit Italy. His desire was at length accomplished, a -merchant of New York generously presenting him with fifty guineas as -an additional outfit, and thus assisting him to reach Rome without -the uneasiness that would have arisen from straitness of means in a -strange land. - -The appearance of a Quaker artist of course caused great excitement -in the metropolis of Art; crowds of wonderers were formed around him; -but, when in the presence of the great relics of Grecian genius, -he was the wildest wonderer of all. “How like a young Mohawk!” he -exclaimed, on first seeing the “Apollo Belvidere,” its life-like -perfection bringing before his mind, instantaneously, the free -forms of the desert children of Nature in his native America. The -excitement of little more than one month in Rome threw him into a -dangerous illness, from which it was some time before he recovered. -He visited the other great cities of Italy, and also painted and -exhibited two great historical pictures, which were successful, ere -the three years were completed which he stayed in that country. He -would have returned to Philadelphia; but a letter from his father -recommended him first to visit England. - -West’s success in London was speedily so decided, that he gave up all -thoughts of returning to America. For thirty years of his life he was -chiefly employed in executing, for King George the Third, the great -historical and scriptural pictures which now adorn Windsor Palace -and the Royal Chapel. After the abrupt termination of the commission -given him by the King, he continued still to be a laborious painter. -His pictures in oil amount to about four hundred, and many of -them are of very large dimensions and contain a great number of -figures. Among these may be mentioned, for its wide celebrity, -the representation of “Christ healing the Sick,” familiar to every -visitor of the National Gallery. If polished taste be more highly -charmed with other treasures there, the heart irresistibly owns the -excellence of this great realisation by the child of the American -Quaker. He received three thousand guineas for this picture, and his -rewards were of the most substantial kind ever after his settlement -in England. He was also appointed President of the Royal Academy, -on the death of Sir Joshua Reynolds, and held the office at his own -death, in the eighty-second year of his age. - -Though exposed to no opposition from envy or jealousy at any time of -his career, and though encouraged in his childish bent, and helped by -all who knew him and had the power to help him, without Perseverance -of the most energetic character Benjamin West would not have -continued without pattern or instruction to labour on to excellence, -nor would he have sustained his prosperity so firmly, or increased -its productiveness so wondrously. - -[Illustration: Decoration] - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - -MUSICIANS. - - -HANDEL. - -The time may come when Music will be universally recognised as -the highest branch of Art; as the most powerful divulger of the -intellect’s profoundest conceptions and noblest aspirations; as the -truest interpreter of the heart’s loves and hates, joys and woes; -as the purest, least sensual, disperser of mortal care and sorrow; -as the all-glorious tongue in which refined, good, and happy beings -can most perfectly utter their thoughts and emotions. Perhaps this -cannot be till the realm of the physical world be more fully subdued -by man. The human faculties have hitherto been, necessarily, too -much occupied with the struggle for existence, for security against -want and protection from the elements, with the invention of better -and swifter modes of locomotion and of transmission of thought, to -advance to a general apprehension of the superior nature of Music. -“Practical men”—men fitted for the discharge of the world’s present -duties by the manifestation of the readiest and fullest capacity for -meeting its present wants—are, naturally and justly, those whom the -world most highly values in its current state of civilisation. - -This necessary preference of the practical to the ideal may lead -many, who cannot spare a thought from the every-day concerns of -the world, to deem hastily that the stern and energetic quality of -Perseverance cannot be fully developed in the character of a devotee -to Music. But, dismissing the greater question just hinted at, it -may be replied that it is the evident tendency of man to form the -lightest pleasures of the mind, as well as his gravest discoveries, -into what is called “science;” and the lives of numerous musicians -show that vast powers of application have been continuously devoted -to the elaboration of the rules of harmony, while others have -employed their genius as ardently in the creation of melody. These -creations, when the symbols are learnt in which they are written, -the mind, by its refined exorcism, can enable the voice, or the hand -of the instrumental performer, to summon into renewed existence to -the end of time. Before symbols were invented and rules constructed, -the wealth of Music must necessarily have been restricted to a few -simple airs such as the memory could retain and easily reproduce. -_Perseverance_—_Perseverance_—has guided and sinewed men’s love of -the beautiful and powerful in melody and harmony, until, from the -simple utterance of a few notes of feeling, rudely conveyed from -sire to son by renewed utterance, Music has grown up into a science, -dignified and adorned by profound theorists, like Albrechtsberger, -and by sublime creative geniuses, such as the majestic Handel and -sweetest Haydn and universal Mozart and sublime Beethoven. - -For their successful encounter of the great “battle of life,” a -hasty thinker would also judge that the extreme susceptibility of -musicians must unfit them; extreme susceptibility, which is, perhaps, -more peculiarly their inheritance than it is that even of poets. -Yet the records of the lives of musical men prove, equally with the -biographies of artists, authors, and linguists, that true genius, -whatever may be the object of its high devotion, is unsubduable by -calamity and opposition. The young inquirer will find ample proof -of this in various biographies: our limits demand that we confine -ourselves to one musician, as an exemplar of the grand attribute of -Perseverance. - - -GEORGE FREDERICK HANDEL, - -[Illustration: GEORGE FREDERICK HANDEL] - -The first of the four highest names in Music, was the son of a -physician of Halle, in Lower Saxony, and was designed by his -father for the study of the civil law. The child’s early attachment -to music—for he could play well on the old instrument called a -clavichord before he was seven years old—was, therefore, witnessed -by his parent with great displeasure. Unable to resist the dictates -of his nature, the boy used to climb up into a lonely garret, shut -himself up, and practise, chiefly when the family were asleep. He -attached himself so diligently to the practice of his clavichord, -that it enabled him, without ever having received the slightest -instruction, to become an expert performer on the harpsichord. -It was at this early age that the resolution of young Handel was -manifested in the singular incident often told of his childhood. -His father set out in a chaise to go and visit a relative who was -valet-de-chambre to the Duke of Saxe-Weisenfels, but refused to admit -the boy as a partner in his journey. After the carriage, however, -the boy ran, kept closely behind it for some miles, unconquerable in -his determination to proceed, and was at last taken into the chaise -by his father. When arrived, it was impossible to keep him from the -harpsichords in the duke’s palace; and, in the chapel, he contrived -to get into the organ-loft, and began to play with such skill on an -instrument he had never before touched, that the duke, overhearing -him, was surprised, asked who he was, and then used every argument -to induce the father to make the child a musician, and promised to -patronise him. - -Overcome by the reasonings of this influential personage, the -physician gave up the thought of thwarting his child’s disposition: -and, at their return to Halle, placed young Handel under the tuition -of Zackau, the organist of the cathedral. The young “giant”—a -designation afterwards so significantly bestowed upon him by -Pope—grew up so rapidly into mastery of the instrument, that he was -soon able to conduct the music of the cathedral in the organist’s -absence; and, at nine years old, composed church services both for -voices and instruments. At fourteen he excelled his master; and his -father resolved to send him, for higher instruction, to a musical -friend who was a professor at Berlin. The opera then flourished in -that city more highly than in any other in Germany; the king marked -the precocious genius of the young Saxon, and offered to send him -into Italy for still more advantageous study: but his father, who -was now seventy years old, would not consent to his leaving his -“fatherland.” - -Handel next went to Hamburgh, where the opera was only little -inferior to Berlin. His father died soon after; and, although but -in his fourteenth year, the noble boy entered the orchestra as a -salaried performer, took scholars, and thus not only secured his own -independent maintenance, but sent frequent pecuniary help to his -mother. How worshipfully the true children of Genius blend their -convictions of moral duty with the untiring aim to excel! - -On the resignation of Keser, composer to the opera, and first -harpsichord in Hamburgh, a contest for the situation took place -between Handel and the person who had hitherto been Keser’s second. -Handel’s decided superiority of skill secured him the office, -although he was but fifteen years of age; but his success had nearly -cost him his life, for his disappointed antagonist made a thrust -with a sword at his breast, where a music book Handel had buttoned -under his coat prevented the entrance of the weapon. Numerous -sonatas, three operas, and other admired pieces, were composed during -Handel’s superintendence of the Hamburgh opera; but, at nineteen, -being invited by the brother of the Grand Duke, he left that city -for Tuscany. He received high patronage at Florence, and afterwards -visited Venice, Rome, and Naples, residing, for shorter or longer -periods, in each city, producing numerous operas, cantatas, and other -pieces, reaping honours and rewards, and becoming acquainted with -Corelli, Scarletti, and other musicians; till, after spending six -years in Italy, he returned to Germany. - -Through the friendship of Baron Kilmansegg he was introduced to -the Elector of Hanover, was made “chapel-master” to the court, and -had a pension conferred upon him of fifteen hundred crowns a year. -In order to secure the services of the “great musician,” as he was -acknowledged now to be, the King provided that he should be allowed, -at will, to be absent for a year at a time. The very next year he -took advantage of this provision and set out for England, having -first visited his old master Zackau, and his aged and blind mother -for the last time—still true, amidst the dazzling influences of his -popularity, to the most correct emotions of the heart! - -His opera of “Rinaldo” was performed with great success during his -stay in this country, and after one year he returned to Hanover; yet -his predilection for England, above every other country he had seen, -was so strong, that after the lapse of another year he was again in -London. The peace of Utrecht occurred a few months after his second -arrival, and having composed a Te Deum and Jubilate in celebration -of it, and thereby won such favour that Queen Anne was induced to -solicit his continuance in England, and to confer upon him a pension -of £200 a year, Handel resolved to forfeit his Hanoverian pension, -and made up his mind to remain in London. But, two years afterwards, -the Queen died, and the great musician was now in deep dread that his -slight of the Elector’s favours would be resented by that personage -on becoming King of England. George the First, indeed, expressed -himself very indignantly respecting Handel’s conduct; but the Baron -Kilmansegg again rendered his friend good service. He instructed -Handel to compose music of a striking character, to be played on -the water, as the King took amusement with a gay company. Handel -created his celebrated “Water Music,” chiefly adapted for horns; and -the effect was so striking that the King was delighted. Kilmansegg -seized the opportunity, and sued for the restoration of his friend to -favour. The boon was richly obtained, for Handel’s pension was raised -to £400 per annum, and he was appointed musical teacher to the young -members of the Royal Family. - -Prosperity seemed to have selected Handel, up to this period, -for her favourite; but severe reverses were coming. The opera in -this country had hitherto been conducted on worn-out and absurd -principles, and a large body of the people of taste united to promote -a reform. Rival opera-houses (as at the present period) were opened; -and during nine years Handel superintended one establishment. It -was one perpetual quarrel: when his opponents, by any change, had -become so feeble that he seemed on the eve of a final triumph, one -or other of the singers in his own company would grow unmanageable: -Senesino was the chief of these, and Handel’s refusal to accept the -mediation of several of the nobility, and be reconciled to him, -caused the establishment over which he presided to be finally broken -up. The great powers of Farinelli, the chief singer at the rival -house, to whom an equal could not then be found in Europe, also -largely contributed to Handel’s ruin. He withdrew, with a loss of -ten thousand pounds; his constitution seemed completely broken with -the years of harassment he had experienced; and he retired to the -baths of Aix-la-Chapelle, scarcely with the hope, on the part of his -friends, that they would ever see him in England again. - -His paralysis and other ailments, however, disappeared with wondrous -suddenness; after he reached the medical waters, he recovered full -health and vigour, and, at the age of fifty-two, returned to England -with the manly resolve to struggle till he had paid his debts, and -once more retrieved a fortune equal to his former condition. It was -now that the whole strength of the man was tried. He produced his -“Alexander’s Feast;” but, in spite of its acknowledged merit, the -nobility whom he had offended would not patronise him. He produced -other pieces, but they failed from the same cause. He then bent his -mighty genius on the creation of newer and grander attractions than -had ever been yet introduced in music, and produced his unequalled -“Messiah,” which was performed at Covent Garden during Lent. Yet the -combination against him was maintained, until he sunk into deeper -difficulties than ever. - -[Illustration: GEORGE FREDERICK HANDEL] - -Unsubdued by the failures which had accumulated around him during -the five years which had elapsed since his return to England, he set -out for Ireland, at fifty-seven, and had his “Messiah” performed -in Dublin, for the benefit of the city prison. His success was -instantaneous; several performances took place for his own benefit, -and the next year he renewed the war against Fortune, in London, by -producing his magnificent “Samson,” and having it performed, together -with his “Messiah,” at Covent Garden. The first renewed performance -of the “Messiah” was for the benefit of the Foundling Hospital; and -the funds of that philanthropic institution were thenceforth annually -benefited by the repetition of that sublime Oratorio. Prejudice was -now subdued, the “mighty master” triumphed, and his darling wish for -honourable independence was fully realised; for more than he had lost -was retrieved. - -Handel’s greatest works, like those of Haydn, were produced in -his advanced years. His “Jephthah” was produced at the age of -sixty-seven. Paralysis returned upon him at fifty-nine, and _gutta -serena_—Milton’s memorable affliction—reduced him to “total eclipse” -of sight some years after: but he submitted cheerfully to his lot, -after brief murmuring, and continued, by dictation to an amanuensis, -the creation of new works, and the performance of his Oratorios to -the last. He conducted his last Oratorio but a week before his death, -and died, as he had always desired to do, on Good Friday, at the age -of seventy-five. He was interred, with distinguished honours, among -the great and good of that country which had naturalised him, in -Westminster Abbey. May the sight of his monument inspire the young -reader with an unquenchable zeal to emulate, in whatever path wisdom -may direct life to be passed, the moral and intellectual excellencies -of this glorious disciple of Perseverance! - -[Illustration: Decoration] - - - - -CHAPTER V. - -SCIENTIFIC DISCOVERERS AND MECHANICIANS. - - -If great proficiency in tongues, skill to depicture human thought -and character, and enthusiastic devotion to art, he worthy of our -admiration, the toiling intelligences who have taught us to subdue -the physical world, and to bring it to subserve our wants and -wishes, claim scarcely less homage. Art and literature could never -have sprung into existence if men had remained mere strugglers for -life, in their inability to contend with the elements of nature, -because ignorant of its laws; and an acquaintance with the languages -of tribes merely barbarous would have been but a worthless kind of -knowledge. To scientific discoverers—the pioneers of civilization, -who make the world worth living in, and render man’s tenancy of it -more valuable by every successive step of discovery—our primary -tribute of admiration and gratitude seems due. They are the grand -revealers of the physical security, health, plenty, and means of -locomotion, which give the mind vantage-ground for its reach after -higher refinement and purer pleasures. - -Should the common observation be urged, that many of the most -important natural discoveries have resulted from accident, let it -be remembered, that, but for the existence of some of our race, more -attentive than the rest, Nature might still have spoken in vain, as -she had undoubtedly done to thousands before she found an intelligent -listener, in each grand instance of physical discovery. Grant all -the truth that may attach to the observation just quoted, and yet -the weighty reflection remains—that it was only by men who, in the -sailor’s phrase, were “on the look-out,” that the revelations of -Nature were caught. The natural laws were in operation for ages, but -were undiscovered, because men guessed rather than inquired, or lived -on without heed to mark, effort to comprehend, industry to register, -and, above all, without perseverance to proceed from step to step in -discovery, till entire truths were learnt. That these have been the -attributes of those to whom we owe the rich boon of science, a rapid -survey of some of their lives will manifest. - - -SIR HUMPHREY DAVY, - -The son of a wood carver of Penzance, was apprenticed by his father -to a surgeon and apothecary of that town, and afterwards with another -of the same profession, but gave little satisfaction to either of his -masters. Natural philosophy had become his absorbing passion; and, -even while a boy, he dreamt of future fame as a chemist. The rich -diversity of minerals in Cornwall offered the finest field for his -empassioned inquiries; and he was in the habit of rambling alone -for miles, bent upon his yearning investigation into the wonders of -Nature. In his master’s garret, and with the assistance of such a -laboratory as he could form for himself from the phials and gallipots -of the apothecary’s shop, and the pots and pans of the kitchen, he -brought the mineral and other substances he collected to the test. -The surgeon of a French vessel wrecked on the coast gave him a case -of instruments, among which was one that he contrived to fashion -into an air-pump, and he was soon enabled to extend the range of -his experiments; but the proper use of many of the instruments was -unknown to him. - -[Illustration: JAMES WATT. SIR HUMPHREY DAVY.] - -A fortunate accident brought him the acquaintanceship of Davies -Gilbert, an eminent man of science. Young Davy was leaning one day -on the gate of his father’s house, when a friend, who was passing -by with Mr. Gilbert, said, “That is young Davy, who is so fond -of chemistry.” Mr. Gilbert immediately entered into conversation -with the youth, and offered him assistance in his studies. By the -kind offices of his new friend he was afterwards introduced to Dr. -Beddoes, who had formed a pneumatic institution at Bristol, and was -in want of a superintendent for it. At the age of nineteen Davy -received this appointment, and immediately began the splendid course -of chemical discovery which has rendered his name immortal as one of -the greatest benefactors as well as geniuses of the race. - -At twenty-one he published his “Researches, Chemical and -Philosophical, chiefly concerning Nitrous Oxide, and its -respiration.” The singularly intoxicating quality of this gas when -breathed was unknown before Davy’s publication of his experiments in -this treatise. The attention it drew upon him from the scientific -world issued in his being invited to leave Bristol, and take the -chair of chemistry which had just been established in the London -Royal Institution. Although but a youth of two-and-twenty, his -lectures in the metropolis were attended by breathless crowds of men -of science and title; and, in another year, he was also appointed -Professor of Chemistry to the Board of Agriculture. His lectures in -that capacity greatly advanced chemical knowledge, and were published -at the request of the Board. When twenty-five he was elected a -Fellow of the Royal Society, and, on the death of Sir Joseph Banks, -was made its President by a unanimous vote. It was in the delivery -of his Bakerian lectures, before this learned body, that he laid -the foundation of the new science called “electro-chemistry.” The -Italians, Volta and Galvani, had some years before discovered and -made known the surprising effects produced on the muscles of dead -animals by two metals being brought into contact with each other. -Davy showed that the metals underwent chemical changes, not by what -had been hitherto termed “electricity,” but by affinity; and that -the same effects might be produced by one of the metals, provided a -fluid were brought to act on its surface in a certain manner. The -composition and decomposition of substances by the application of -the galvanic energy, as displayed in the experiments of the young -philosopher, filled the minds of men of science with wonder. - -His grand discoveries of the metallic bases of the alkalies and -earths, of the various properties of the gases, and of the connexion -of electricity and magnetism, continued to absorb the attention -of the scientific world through succeeding years; but a simple -invention, whereby human life was rescued from danger in mines, the -region whence so great a portion of the wealth of England is derived, -placed him before the minds of millions, learned and illiterate, as -one of the guardians of man’s existence. This was the well-known -“safety lamp,” an instrument which is provided at a trifling expense, -and with which the toiling miner can enter subterranean regions -unpierceable before, without danger of explosion of the “fire-damp,” -so destructive, before this discovery, to the lives of thousands. The -humblest miner rejects any other name but that of “Davy Lamp” for -this apparently insignificant protector; and ventures, with it in -his hand, cheerfully and boldly into the realms of darkness, where -the “black diamonds” lie so many fathoms beneath the surface of the -earth, and, not seldom, under the bed of the sea. The proprietors of -the northern coal mines presented the discoverer with a service of -plate of the value of £2000, at a public dinner, as a manifestation -of their sense of his merits. He was the first person knighted by the -Prince Regent, afterwards King George IV., and was a few years after -raised to the baronetage. Such honours served to mark the estimation -in which he was held by those who had it in their power to confer -them; but Davy’s enduring distinctions, like those of the unequalled -Newton, are derived from the increase of power over nature, which he -has secured for millions yet unborn, by the force of his genius, girt -up, tirelessly by _Perseverance_, till its grand triumphs were won. - -From this hasty survey of the magnificent course of one of the great -penetrators into the secrets of nature, and preservers of human life, -let us cast a glance on the struggles of one who has been the means -of multiplying man’s hands and fingers—to use a strong figure—of -opening up sources of employment for millions, and of showing the -road to wealth for thousands. - - -SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT, - -Was a poor barber till the age of thirty, and then changed his -trade for that of an itinerant dealer in hair. Nothing is known -of any early attachment he had for mechanical inventions; but, -about four years after he had given up shaving beards, he is found -enthusiastically bent on the project of discovering the “perpetual -motion,” and, in his quest for a person to make him some wheels, -gets acquainted with a clockmaker of Warrington, named Kay. This -individual had also been for some time bent on the construction of -new mechanic powers, and, either to him alone, or to the joint wit of -the two, is to be attributed their entry on an attempt at Preston, in -Lancashire, to erect a novel machine for spinning cotton-thread. The -partnership was broken, and the endeavour given up, in consequence of -the threats uttered by the working spinners, who dreaded that such -an invention would rob them of bread, by lessening the necessity -for human labour; and Arkwright alone, bent on the accomplishment -of the design, went to Nottingham. A firm of bankers in that town -made him some advances of capital, with a view to partake in the -benefits arising from his invention; but, as Arkwright’s first -machines did not answer his end efficiently, they grew weary of -the connection, and refused further supplies. Unshaken in his own -belief of future success, Arkwright now took his models to a firm -of stocking weavers, one of whom, Mr. Strutt—a name which has also -become eminent in the manufacturing enterprise of the country—was a -man of intelligence, and of some degree of acquaintance with science. -This firm entered into a partnership with Arkwright, and, he having -taken out a patent for his invention, they built a spinning-mill, -to be driven by horse-power, and filled it with frames. Two years -afterwards they built another mill at Cromford, in Derbyshire, moved -by water-power; but it was in the face of losses and discouragements -that they thus pushed their speculations. During five years they sunk -twelve thousand pounds, and his partners were often on the point of -giving up the scheme. But Arkwright’s confidence only increased by -failure, and, by repeated essays at contrivance, he finally and -most triumphantly succeeded. He lived to realise an immense fortune, -and his present descendant is understood to be one of the wealthiest -persons in the kingdom. The weight of cotton imported now is three -hundred times greater than it was a century ago; and its manufacture, -since the invention of Arkwright, has become the greatest in England. - -[Illustration: ORIGIN OF THE STOCKING-LOOM.] - - -THE REV. EDMUND CARTWRIGHT, D.D., - -Must be mentioned as the meritorious individual who completed the -discovery of cotton manufacture, by the invention of the power-loom. -His tendency towards mechanical contrivances had often displayed -itself in his youth; but his love of literature, and settlement in -the church, led him to lay aside such pursuits as trifles, and it was -not till his fortieth year that a conversation occurred which roused -his dormant faculty. His own account of it must be given, not only -for the sake of its striking character, but for the powerful negative -it puts upon the hackneyed observation, that almost all great and -useful discoveries have resulted from “accident.” The narrative first -appeared in the “Supplement to the Encyclopædia Britannica.” - -“Happening to be at Matlock, in the summer of 1784, I fell in company -with some gentlemen of Manchester, when the conversation turned on -Arkwright’s spinning-machinery. One of the company observed that, as -soon as Arkwright’s patent expired, so many mills would be erected, -and so much cotton spun, that hands would never be found to weave it. -To this observation I replied, that Arkwright must then set his wits -to work to invent a weaving-mill. This brought on a conversation upon -the subject, in which the Manchester gentlemen unanimously agreed -that the thing was impracticable, and, in defence of their opinion, -they adduced arguments which I was certainly incompetent to answer, -or even to comprehend, being totally ignorant of the subject, having -never at the time seen a person weave. I controverted, however, the -impracticability of the thing by remarking that there had been lately -exhibited in London an automaton figure which played at chess. ‘Now, -you will not assert, gentlemen,’ said I, ‘that it is more difficult -to construct a machine that shall weave, than one that shall make -all the variety of moves that are required in that complicated -game.’ Some time afterwards, a particular circumstance recalling -this conversation to my mind, it struck me that, as in plain -weaving, according to the conception I then had of the business, -there could be only three movements, which were to follow each -other in succession, there could be little difficulty in producing -and repeating them. Full of these ideas, I immediately employed a -carpenter and smith to carry them into effect. As soon as the machine -was finished I got a weaver to put in the warp, which was of such -materials as sail-cloth is usually made of. To my great delight, -a piece of cloth, such as it was, was the produce. As I had never -before turned my thoughts to mechanism, either in theory or practice, -nor had seen a loom at work, nor knew anything of its construction, -you will readily suppose that my first loom must have been a most -rude piece of machinery. The warp was laid perpendicularly; the -reed fell with a force of at least half-a-hundred weight; and the -springs which threw the shuttle were strong enough to have thrown a -congreve rocket. In short, it required the strength of two powerful -men to work the machine, at a slow rate, and only for a short time. -Conceiving, in my simplicity, that I had accomplished all that was -required, I then secured what I thought a most valuable property by a -patent, 4th of April, 1785. This being done, I then condescended to -see how other people wove; and you will guess my astonishment when I -compared their easy modes of operation with mine. Availing myself, -however, of what I then saw, I made a loom in its general principles -nearly as they are now made. But it was not till the year 1787 that -I completed my invention, when I took out my last weaving patent, -August the 1st of that year.” - -Challenged by a manufacturer who came to see his machine, to render -it capable of weaving checks or fancy patterns, Dr. Cartwright -applied his mind to the discovery, and succeeded so perfectly, that -when the manufacturer visited him again some weeks after, the visitor -declared he was assisted by something beyond human power. Were these -discoveries the fruit of “accident,” or were they attributable -to the power of mind, unswervingly bent to attain its object by -Perseverance? - -Numerous additional inventions in manufactures and agriculture owe -their origin to this good, as well as ingenious man, whose mind -was so utterly uncorrupted by any sordid passion that he neglected -to turn his discoveries to any great pecuniary benefit, even when -secured to him by patent. The merchants and manufacturers of -Manchester, however, memorialised the Lords of the Treasury in his -behalf, during his latter years, and Parliament made him a grant of -10,000_l._ Dr. Cartwright directed his mind to the steam-engine, -among his other thoughts, and told his son, many years before the -prophecy was realised, that, if he lived to manhood, he would see -both ships and land-carriages moved by steam. From seeing one of his -models of a steam-vessel, it is asserted Fulton, then a painter in -this country, urged the idea of steam navigation upon his countrymen, -on his return to America, until he saw it triumphantly carried out. - -The new and vast motive power just mentioned conducts us to another -illustrious name in the list of the disciples of Perseverance. Like -the names of Newton, Gutenberg the inventor of printing, and a few -others, the name to which we allude has claims upon the gratitude -of mankind which can never be fully rendered until the entire race -participate in the superior civilization it is the certain destiny of -these grand discoveries to institute. - - -JAMES WATT, - -Was the son of a small merchant of Greenock, and, on account of -his weakly state when a child, was unable at first to enjoy the -advantages of school tuition, and was therefore taught chiefly at -home. When but six years old he was frequently caught chalking -diagrams and solving problems on the hearth; and at fourteen he -made a rude electrical machine with his own hands. His aunt, it is -related, often chided him for indolence and mischief when he was -found playing with the tea-kettle on the fire, watching the steam -coming out of the spout, and trying the steam’s force by obstructing -its escape; the might of the vaporous element seeming even then -to have begun to present itself, unavoidably, to his imagination -and understanding. He grew to be an extensive manufacturer of -philosophical toys while a boy, and used to increase his pocket-money -by standing with them at the college gate, in Glasgow, and vending -them to the students as they passed out. At eighteen years of age his -father apprenticed him to a mathematical instrument maker in London, -but in little more than a year his weak health rendered it necessary -to send him home to Scotland. - -[Illustration: JAMES WATT—WHEN A BOY—PLAYING WITH THE TEA-KETTLE.] - -At twenty-one, although he had received so little instruction in that -profession, his skill secured him the appointment of mathematical -instrument maker to the college of Glasgow. His appointment, however, -was not sufficiently productive to render it worth keeping; -and, seven years afterwards, he began to practise as a general -engineer, for which diligent study during this term had fitted him. -He was soon sought after for almost every undertaking of public -improvement; whether for the making of bridges, canals, harbours, -or any other engineering design projected in Scotland. But the -circumstance of a small model of a steam-engine being sent him to -repair, fixed his attention powerfully upon the element which had so -often excited the attention of his boyish understanding. - -Watt found this model so imperfect, although it was the most perfect -then known, that he could with difficulty get it to work. The more he -examined it, the more deeply he became convinced that the properties -of steam had never been understood; the engine was, in fact, an -atmospheric rather than a steam engine. By laborious investigation -he ascertained that the evaporation of water proceeded more or less -rapidly in proportion to the degree of heat made to enter it; that -the process of evaporation was quickened as a greater surface of -water was exposed to heat, the quantity of coals necessary to raise a -certain weight of water into steam, and the degrees of heat at which -water boils under different pressures. He had now learnt enough of -the nature of the great element he proposed to wield; but it required -long thought and the most exhaustless application of contrivance to -give his vaporous giant a fitting body, limbs, joints, and sinews, -and so to adapt these as to render them a self-regulating mechanism. -Watt found a coadjutor in the person of Boulton, of Birmingham, who -was possessed of capital, and the will to embark it; and he now set -to work to perfect his discovery, and did perfect it; thus revealing -to man the greatest instrument of power yet put into his possession. - -“In the present perfect state of the engine,” says Dr. Arnott, in -his “Elements of Physics,” “it appears a thing almost endowed with -intelligence. It regulates with perfect accuracy and uniformity the -number of its strokes in a given time; counting or recording them, -moreover, to tell how much work it has done, as a clock records the -beats of its pendulum; it regulates the quantity of steam admitted to -work; the briskness of the fire; the supply of water to the boiler; -the supply of coals to the fire; it opens and shuts its valves with -absolute precision as to time and manner; it oils its joints; it -takes out any air which may accidentally enter into parts which -should be vacuous; and when anything goes wrong, which it cannot -itself rectify, it warns its attendants by ringing a bell: yet with -all these talents and qualities, and even when exerting the power -of six hundred horses, it is obedient to the hand of a child; its -aliment is coal, wood, charcoal, or other combustible; it consumes -none while idle; it never tires, and wants no sleep; it is not -subject to malady when originally well made, and only refuses to work -when worn out with age; it is equally active in all climates, and -will do work of any kind; it is a water pumper, a miner, a sailor, -a cotton-spinner, a weaver, a blacksmith, a miller, &c., &c.; and a -small engine, in the character of a steam-pony, may be seen dragging -after it on a railroad a hundred tons of merchandise, or a regiment -of soldiers, with greater speed than that of our fleetest coaches. -It is the king of machines, and a permanent realisation of the genii -of Eastern fable, whose supernatural powers were occasionally at the -command of man.” - -And what was the greater instrument? The mind of Watt, whose powers -were manifested by the creation of this grandest physical instrument. -Could such a display of resources, such amazing circumspection of the -wants and needs of his machine, and wisdom in the adaptation of its -members to the perfect working of the whole, have been given forth -from an intellect untrained itself to rule, uninured itself to toil, -and to toil with certitude for an end, by persevering collection of -all that could increase its aptitude to reach it? The estimate of -James Watt’s character by the eloquent Lord Jeffrey, will afford a -weighty answer. - -“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 had been that which he had been last occupied in -studying and exhausting; such was the copiousness, the precision, 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. - -“His astonishing memory was aided, no doubt, in a great measure, -by a still higher and rarer faculty—by his power of digesting and -arranging in its proper place all the information he received, and -of casting aside and rejecting, as it were instinctively, whatever -was worthless or immaterial. Every conception that was suggested to -his mind seemed instantly to take its place among its other rich -furniture, and to be condensed into the smallest and most convenient -form. He never appeared, therefore, to be at all encumbered or -perplexed with the _verbiage_ of the dull books he perused, or the -idle talk to which he listened, but to have at once extracted, by -a kind of intellectual alchemy, all that was worthy of attention, -and to have reduced it for his own use to its true value and to its -simplest form. And thus it often happened that a great deal more -was learned, from his brief and vigorous account of the theories -and arguments of tedious writers, than an ordinary student could -have derived from the most faithful study of the originals; and that -errors and absurdities became manifest from the mere clearness and -plainness of his statement of them, which might have deluded and -perplexed most of his hearers without that invaluable assistance.” - -Such was the activity, industry, discipline, and perseverance in -acquirement, of the mind which gave to the world its greatest -physical transformer—the instrument which is changing the entire -civilization of the world, “doing the work of multitudes, overcoming -the difficulties of depth, distance, minuteness, magnitude, wind, and -tide; exhibiting stranger wonders than those of romance or magic; -annihilating time and space; giving wings even to thought, and -sending knowledge like light through the human universe; most mighty, -with power that Watt knew not of, and with more than we know, for -futurity. The discovery of America,” says the same eloquent writer, -W. J. Fox, in his “Lectures to the Working Classes,” “was of matter -to be worked upon: this is power to work upon the world.” - - -COLUMBUS, - -[Illustration: COLUMBUS] - -[Illustration: RETURN OF COLUMBUS.] - -Starts before the mind with the enunciation of the sentence just -quoted. He whose indomitable perseverance carried his mutinous -sailors onward—and onward—across the dreary Atlantic, in a frail -bark, until fidelity to his own convictions issued in the magnificent -proof of their verity, the discovery of the new world. But our space -demands that we pass to the incomparable name which towers, alone, -above that of James Watt, in the world’s list of the scientific -benefactors of mankind; and, perhaps, above all human names in its -peerless excellence. - - -SIR ISAAC NEWTON, - -It is so well known, as scarcely to need repeating here, displayed -his wondrous and incontrollable tendency for scientific inquiry in -boyhood. In him, too, as in the minds of almost all philosophical -discoverers, was evinced the faculty for mechanical contrivance, -as well as acuteness for demonstration. The anecdotes of his -boyish invention, of his windmill with a mouse for the miller, his -water-clock, carriage, and sun-dials, and of his kites and paper -lanterns, are familiar. His mother having been persuaded, by an -intelligent relative, to give him up from agricultural cares, to -which his genius could not be tied down, he was sent to Cambridge, -and entered Trinity College in his eighteenth year. He proceeded, -at once, to the study of “Descartes’ Geometry,” regarding “Euclid’s -Elements” as containing self-evident truths, when he had gone through -the titles of the propositions. Yet he afterwards regretted this -neglect of the rigid method of demonstration, in the outset, as a -great mistake, and wished he had not attached himself so closely to -modes of solution by algebra. He successively studied, and wrote -commentaries on, “Wallis’s Arithmetic of Infinities,” “Saunderson’s -Logic,” and “Kepler’s Optics;” and, for testing the doctrines of -the latter science, bought a prism, and made numerous experiments -with it. While but a very young man, Dr. Isaac Barrow, the Lucasian -Professor of Mathematics, gathered hints of new truths from his -conversation; and in the publication of his lectures on optics, a few -years after, the Doctor acknowledged his obligations to young Newton, -and characterised him very highly. A year after this publication, -Barrow resigned his chair in favour of Newton, who had recently taken -the degree of Master of Arts. - -Zeal to acquit himself well in his professorship, a situation so -congenial to his mind, led him to devote the most profound attention -to the doctrines of light and vision. Realities were what he sought, -even in the most abstract pursuits; and he expended considerable -manual labour in constructing reflecting telescopes. One of these -most valued relics of his mechanical toil is now in the library of -the Royal Society. The result of his studies and experiments was -not fully known before the publication of his “Opticks,” in his -sixty-second year; but it is believed his entire discovery of the -nature of light was made many years before, being at length “put -together out of scattered papers.” The modesty of this great man -was, indeed, the most distinguishing mark of his intellect. Arrogant -satisfaction, or pride of superior genius, never sullied his -greatness. Even in giving this scientific treasure to the world, he -says, he designed to repeat most of his observations with more care -and exactness, and to make some new ones for determining the manner -how the rays of light are bent in their passage by bodies, for making -the fringes of colours with the dark lines between them. - -How much are we indebted to the patient perseverance of all the -true discoverers in science! This is the quality of mind which ever -distinguished them. Rashness and presumption, haste to place his -crude theories before the world, and to gain assent to them before -proof, on the other hand, are the sure marks of the empiric or -pretender. The popular author of “The Pursuit of Knowledge under -Difficulties”—a work the young student should carry about with him as -a never-failing stimulus to perseverance—thus admirably treats this -pre-eminent characteristic of the mind of Newton:—“On some occasions -he was wont to say, that, if there was any mental habit or endowment -in which he excelled the generality of men, it was that of patience -in the examination of the facts and phenomena of his subject. This -was merely another form of that teachableness which constituted -the character of the man. He loved truth, and wooed her with the -unwearying ardour of a lover. Other speculators had consulted the -book of nature, principally for the purpose of seeking in it the -defence of some favourite theory: partially, therefore, and hastily, -as one would consult a dictionary. Newton perused it as a volume -altogether worthy of being studied for its own sake. Hence proceeded -both the patience with which he traced its characters, and the -rich and plentiful discoveries with which the search rewarded him. -If he afterwards classified and systematised his knowledge like a -philosopher, he had first, to use his own language, gathered it like -a child.” - -This transcendent combination of qualities, modesty, patient -investigation, and indefatigable perseverance, was still more -wondrously shown in his superlative discovery of the theory of -gravitation, than in his promulgation of the laws of light and -vision. The anecdote of his observation of the fall of an apple from -a tree, while sitting in his garden, is among the most familiar of -all anecdotes to general readers. This incident, it was affirmed by -his niece, as well as his friend Dr. Pemberton, occurred in Newton’s -twenty-third year; and it instantly raised in him the inquiry whether -the infinite universe were not held in order and kept in motion by -the very power which drew the apple to the earth. - -Galileo had already shown the tendency of all bodies near the earth -to gravitate towards its centre, and had calculated and fixed the -proportions of their speed in descent to their distance from the -earth’s centre. Newton’s general application of Galileo’s rule to -the planets of the solar system led him to regard his conjecture as -strongly probable. He next devoted his powers to the consideration -of its verity, by examining the question whether the force of -gravitation by which the planets preserved their orbits and motions -round the sun would precisely account for the moon’s preservation of -her orbit and motion round the earth. But here the precision of his -calculations was frustrated by the imperfect knowledge then existing -as to the real measurement of the earth—the gravitating centre of -the revolving moon. An empiric would have trumpeted his discovery to -the world, in spite of the fact that this faulty admeasurement of -the earth, by not affording a true calculation of her gravitating -power, failed to lead him to an agreement with truth. Newton was -silent for long years, until a degree of the earth’s latitude was -ascertained, by actual experiment, to be sixty-nine and a half -degrees instead of sixty; he then resumed his calculations, and their -result was that he had probed the grand secret of the laws by which -worlds move in obedience to the suns which are their centres. It -only remains to be observed, as a significant reminder to the young -reader, that—though he may _assent_ to the great doctrine of Newton, -and consider it to be established, he can never fully _know_ its -mathematical and mechanical verity, unless study enables him to read -the “Principia”—the work in which the truth of gravitation and its -laws are demonstrated. Let it be an additional motive to strive for -the ability to read such a book, that in having read it the student -has become acquainted with the greatest effort in abstract truth ever -yet produced by the human intellect. - -The moral as well as the intellectual grandeur of the life of Newton -would tempt us to enlarge, but we must merely say, ere we pass on, to -the youthful inquirer—read about Newton, think about Newton, and the -more you know of him the more will your understanding honour him, -your heart love him, and your desire strengthen to approach him in -virtue, wisdom, and usefulness. - - -SIR WILLIAM HERSCHEL, - -[Illustration: SIR WILLIAM HERSCHEL] - -Newton’s greatest successor in astronomical discovery, may claim an -equality with him, as a true and noble disciple of perseverance. The -son of a poor Hanoverian musician, he was brought over to England, -with his father, in the band of the Guards. The father returned -to Hanover, but young Herschel remained, and at the age of twenty -began to seek his fortune in this country. After many difficulties, -wanderings from place to place, as a teacher of music in families, -and a few slight glimpses of favour from fortune, he obtained the -office of organist in the Octagon Chapel at Bath. The emoluments -of this situation, with his receipts from tuition of pupils and -other engagements, were such that an ordinary mortal would have been -content “to make himself comfortable” upon them, in worldly phrase. -But ease and competence were not the object of Herschel’s ambition. -In the midst of his wanderings, he had not only striven to acquire -a sound knowledge of English, but of Italian, Latin, and Greek, and -had entered on the study of counterpoint, in order to make himself -a profound theorist, as well as a performer, in music. In order to -comprehend the doctrines of harmonics, he found it necessary to -get some acquaintance with the mathematics; and this led him at -once to the line of study for which his natural genius was best -fitted. On his settlement at Bath, he applied himself with ardour -to these abstract inquiries, and from the mathematics proceeded to -astronomy and optics. Desire to view the wonders of the heavens for -himself made him eager to possess a telescope; and, deeming the -price of a sufficiently powerful one more than he could afford, he -set about making a five-feet reflector, and, after much difficulty, -accomplished his task. - -Success only stimulated him to bolder attempts, and he rapidly -constructed telescopes of seven, ten, and twenty-feet focal distance. -Pupils and professional engagements were given up, until he reduced -his income to a bare sufficiency, in order that he might have -more time for the sciences to which he was now become inseparably -attached. So tireless was his perseverance in the fashioning of -mirrors for his telescopes, that he would sit to polish them for -twelve or fourteen hours, without intermission; and, rather than take -his hand from the delicate labour, his sister was requested to put -the little food he ate into his mouth. With one of his seven-feet -reflectors—the most perfect instrument he had constructed—after -having been engaged for a year and a half, at intervals, in a regular -survey of the heavens, he at length made the discovery of the planet -which, until the very recent discovery of “Neptune” by Leverrier and -Adams, was regarded as the most distant member of the solar system. -The Astronomer-Royal, Dr. Maskelyne, to whom Herschel made known what -he had observed, together with his doubts as to the nature of the new -celestial body, first affirmed it to be a comet. In a few months this -error was dissipated, and the grandeur of Herschel’s discovery was -acknowledged by the whole scientific world. King George the Third, in -whose honour he had named the new planet Georgium Sidus (a name which -has been very properly set aside for that of Uranus), conferred upon -him a pension of £300 a year, that he might be enabled to give up -entirely the profession of music; and the son of the poor Hanoverian -musician took his station among the first in the highest of the -sciences. The order of knighthood was afterwards bestowed upon him; -but it could not add to the splendour of the names of either Herschel -or Newton. - -Inquiry will put the young reader in possession of a knowledge of -many other interesting and important discoveries of the _persevering_ -Herschel. A few pages must be devoted to a brief mention of others -who have benefited mankind by their unremitting labours; and they -must be selected from a list where it is difficult to tell a single -name unmarked by some peculiar excellence—so abundant in exemplars of -meritorious toil is the vast muster-roll of science and mechanical -invention. - - -REAUMUR, - -May be instanced as one of the most industrious toilers for the -advancement of useful science, though he does not take rank with the -unfolders of sublime truths. During a life of seventy-five years -he was incessantly engaged in endeavouring to add something to the -compass of human knowledge and convenience. At one time he is found -pursuing an investigation into the mode of formation and growth of -shells, endeavouring to account for the progressive motion of the -different kinds of testaceous animals; anon, he publishes a “Natural -History of Cobwebs,” evincing a mind capable of the most minute -and ingenious search; and is afterwards found showing the facility -with which iron and steel may be made magnetic by percussion. For -revealing to his countrymen, the French, a method of converting -forged or bar-iron into steel, of making steel of what quality they -pleased, and of rendering even cast-iron ductile, a pension of twelve -hundred livres yearly was settled upon him. This allowance, at his -death, was settled, by his own request, on the Academy of Sciences, -to be applied to the defraying of expenses for future attempts to -improve the arts. He also made known the useful secret of tinning -plates of iron, an article for which the French, till his time, had -been compelled to resort to Germany. - -Continuing his researches into natural science, he showed the -means by which marine animals attach themselves to solid bodies; -discussed the cause of the electric effect from the stroke of a -torpedo; displayed the proof that in crabs, lobsters, and crayfish, -nature reproduces a lost claw; set forth a treatise showing, by -experiments, that the digestive process is performed in granivorous -birds by trituration, and in carnivorous by solution; and published -a systematic “History of Insects.” Engaged at one period of life in -proving, by experiment, that the less a cord is twisted the stronger -it is—that is, that the best mode of uniting the threads of a cord -is that which causes their tension to be equal in whatever direction -the cord is strained; we find him, at another period, discovering -the art of preserving eggs, so that they might be kept fresh and fit -for incubation many years, and breeds of fowls propagated at home -or abroad, by the eggs being washed with a varnish of oil, grease, -or any other substance that would effectually stop the pores of the -shell, and prevent the contents from evaporating. Valuable secrets in -the making of glass were also discovered by him; he devised a method -of making porcelain, and showed that the requisite materials were to -be found in France in greater abundance than in the East; and lastly, -he rendered enduring service to science by reducing thermometers to -a common standard, which continental nations gratefully commemorate -by still calling thermometers by his name. A life passed in mental -occupations so multifarious as well as useful, surely entitles -Reaumur to be termed a true scholar of perseverance. - - -THE HONOURABLE ROBERT BOYLE, - -By a life of virtue and usefulness, merits the epithet to which -his birth by courtesy entitled him. He was the youngest son of the -first Earl of Cork, and after being educated at Eton was sent out -to travel on the continent. A residence at Florence at the time of -Galileo’s death, and the almost universal conversation then caused -by the discoveries of that great philosopher, seem to have induced -Boyle’s first attention to science. On returning to this country he -very soon joined a knot of scientific men, who had begun to meet -at each other’s houses, on a certain day in each week, for inquiry -and discussion into what was then called “The New or Experimental -Philosophy.” These weekly meetings eventually gave rise to the Royal -Society of London; but part of the original members of the little -club, a few years after its commencement, removed to Oxford, and -Boyle, influenced by his attachment to these philosophic friends, -in process of time took up his residence in that city. Their weekly -meetings were held in his house; and here he began to prosecute -with earnestness his researches into the nature of air. By his -experiments and invention, the air-pump was first brought into so -useful a form that he may be called its discoverer, though the genius -of others has since greatly improved that important instrument. -He also demonstrated the necessity of the presence of air for the -support of animal life and of combustion; showing not only that -a flame is instantly extinguished beneath an exhausted receiver, -but that even a fish could not live under it, though immersed in -water. His demonstration of the expansibility of air was still more -important. Aristotle, three hundred years before the Christian era, -taught that if air were rarefied till it filled ten times its usual -space, it would become fire. Boyle succeeded in dilating a portion -of the air of the common atmosphere, till it filled nearly fourteen -thousand times its natural space. - -His other discoveries were numerous, every hour of his existence -might be said to be devoted to usefulness: and his wealth and -station, so far from disposing him to ease and inertion, were nobly -turned by him into grand aids for the advancement of knowledge. Mr. -Craik thus admirably sums up his life of effort:—“From his boyhood -till his death he may be said to have been almost constantly occupied -in making philosophical experiments; collecting and ascertaining -facts in natural science; inventing or improving instruments for the -examination of nature; maintaining a regular correspondence with -scientific men in all parts of Europe; receiving the daily visits of -great numbers of the learned, both of his own and other countries; -perusing and studying not only all the new works that appeared in -the large and rapidly widening department of natural history and -mathematical and experimental physics, including medicine, anatomy, -chemistry, geography, &c., but many others, relating especially to -theology and oriental literature; and, lastly, writing so profusely -upon all these subjects, that those of his works alone which have -been preserved and collected, independently of many others that are -lost, fill, in one edition, six large quarto volumes. So vast an -amount of literary performance, from a man who was at the same time -so much of a public character, and gave so considerable a portion -of his time to the service of others, shows strikingly what may be -done by industry, _perseverance_, and such a method of life as never -suffers an hour of the day to run to waste.” - -The lives of Copernicus, Tycho Brahe, Galileo, and Kepler, among -astronomers; of Napier of Murchiston, the inventor of logarithms; of -Dolland and Ramsden, the improvers of optical glasses; of Cavendish, -the discoverer of the composition of water; of Linnæus and Cuvier, -the greatest naturalists; of Lavoisier, Fourcroy, Black, and, indeed, -a host of modern chemists; might be singly and in order adduced as -inspiring lessons of perseverance. The young inquirer, if he have -caught a spark of zeal from the ardour of the tireless minds we have -hastily endeavoured to portray, will, if he act worthily, strive to -make himself acquainted more fully with the doings of these and other -great men, and “gird up the loins of his mind” to follow them in -their glorious path of wisdom and beneficence. - - - - -CHAPTER VI. - -MEN OF BUSINESS. - - -Examples of a successful pursuit of wealth, either from the -beginnings of a moderate fortune, or from absolute penury, are -abundant. A life devoted to the acquirement of money, for its own -sake, cannot be made the subject of moral eulogy; it can only be -introduced among the “Triumphs of Perseverance,” as a proof of the -efficacy of that quality of the mind to enable the wealth-winner -to compass his resolves. It by no means follows, however, that a -career towards opulence is impelled by the mere sordid passion -for gain. Happily, among those who have started with a moderate -fortune, progressive increase in riches has often been found united -with increasing purposes of the noblest philanthropy and public -beneficence; while the manly aim for independence has equally -distinguished many who have risen to wealth from poverty. A brief -rehearsal of the biographies of two persons, of widely different -station and character, but whose names have alike become inseparably -connected with the history of the first commercial city in the world, -will suffice to illustrate our position. - - -SIR THOMAS GRESHAM, - -The younger son of Sir Richard, who was a knight, alderman, sheriff, -and Lord Mayor of London, and a prosperous merchant, had the twofold -example set him by his father, of an intelligent pursuit of trade, -and of public spirit and munificence. He was sent to Cambridge, -distinguished himself in study, and might, undoubtedly, have risen to -reputation in one of the learned professions; but, by his father’s -wish, he turned his attention to business, and was admitted a member -of the Mercers’ Company at the age of twenty-four. Having, through -his father’s eminence as a merchant, succeeded in obtaining the -trust of agent to King Edward the Sixth, for taking up money of the -merchants of Antwerp, he quickly discerned the abuses under which -the king’s interest suffered. He proposed methods for preventing the -Flemish merchants from extorting unfair commissions and brokages, and -so turned the current of advantage to the king’s favour, that the -young prince was enabled to pay all the debts for which his father -and the Protector—Somerset—had left him responsible. During the short -reign of Edward, this active and enterprising merchant made forty -journeys from England to Antwerp; and, by the application of his -genius, retrieved English commerce from the disadvantage into which -it had fallen by mismanagement at home, and the superior shrewdness -of the Netherland merchants. The precious metals had become scarce in -our country, but Gresham brought them back again; our commodities -were low in price, and foreign ones high, but he reversed their -conditions of sale: while the king’s credit, from being very low -abroad, was, by Gresham’s skill, raised so high, that he could have -borrowed what sums he pleased. For such services the young and acute -negotiator had a pension of £100 a year appointed him for life, and -estates to the value of £300 a year were also conferred upon him by -the king. - -At the accession of Mary, Gresham was discharged from his agency; -but, on his drawing up a memorial, and its allegements being proved, -he was re-instated. Queen Elizabeth immediately re-engaged him, at -her accession, and employed him to provide and buy up arms for the -national defence. She knighted him a year afterwards, and he then -built himself the mansion known by his name in Bishopsgate Street; -and, till lately, occupied by the “Gresham professors.” - -His noblest public work was performed soon after. His father had -striven to move King Henry the Eighth to build an Exchange for the -city merchants, who then met in the open air in Lombard Street, but -could not. Sir Thomas Gresham now publicly proposed, if the citizens -would purchase a piece of ground large enough, and in the proper -place, to build an Exchange at his own expense, with covered walks, -and all necessary conveniences for the assemblage of merchants. This -was done; the site was cleared; Gresham himself laid the foundation -stone; and Queen Elizabeth, when the building was complete, “attended -by nobility, came from Somerset House, and caused it, by trumpet and -herald, to be proclaimed the ‘Royal Exchange.’” This building, as our -young readers know, was burnt down some years ago, and the present -stately fabric, opened by Queen Victoria, has been erected on its -site. - -About the time that the building of the Royal Exchange was commenced, -Gresham was again employed to take up moneys for the royal use at -Antwerp. Experience had so fully shown him the evil of pursuing this -system, that he at length persuaded the Queen to discontinue it, -and to borrow of her own merchants in the city of London. Yet his -views were so much in advance of the contracted commercial spirit -of that age, that the London citizens, in their common hall, blind -to their own interests, negatived his proposition when it was first -made to them. But, on more mature consideration, several merchants -and aldermen raised £16,000, and lent it to the Queen for six months, -at six per cent. interest; and the loan was prolonged for six months -more, at the same interest, with brokage. This illustrious London -citizen, by his superior intelligence, thus opened the way for -increasing others’ as well as his own gains. - -Sir Thomas Gresham’s successful negotiations issued in so large -an increase of his own wealth, that he purchased large estates in -several counties, and bought Osterley Park, near Brentford, where -he built a large mansion, in which he was accustomed to receive -the visits of Elizabeth. Even here the ideas of the merchant were -predominant. “The house,” says a writer of the period, “standeth -in a parke, well wooded and garnished with many faire ponds, which -affoorded not onely fish and fowle, as swannes and other water fowle, -but also great use for milles, as paper milles, oyle milles, and corn -milles.” On his retirement to Osterley, he transformed his residence -in Bishopsgate Street into a “college,” for the abode of seven -bachelor professors, who were to read lectures there on “divinity, -law, physic, astronomy, geometry, music, and rhetoric,” and to have -£50 each per year. - -He was the richest commoner in England—such were what is usually -termed “the substantial” rewards of his perseverance; while his name -deserves lasting honour as the patron of learning, and the exemplar -of merchant-beneficence. He left, by will, not only ample funds for -continuing his “professorships,” but endowments for almshouses, and -yearly sums for ten of the city prisons and hospitals. - - -JAMES LACKINGTON, - -[Illustration: JAMES LACKINGTON] - -The son of a journeyman shoemaker and of a weaver’s daughter, passed -his early years amidst circumstances which must have enduringly -impressed him with the miseries of vice and poverty. His father was -a selfish and habitual drunkard, and his mother frequently worked -nineteen or twenty hours out of the four-and-twenty to support her -family. He was the eldest child of a numerous family, and was put two -or three years to a dame’s school; but was less intent on learning -than on “getting on in the world,” even while a boy. He heard a -pieman cry his wares, and soon proposed to a baker to sell pies for -him; and so successful did young Lackington prove as a pie-vender, -that he heard the baker declare, a twelvemonth after, that he had -been the means of extricating him from embarrassment. A boyish prank -put an end to this engagement; and when the baker wished to renew -it Lackington’s father insisted on placing him at the stall. Again, -however, his pedlar inclinations, which in after life led him to -affluence, rescued him from the disagreeable treatment he expected -to receive under his father’s rule. He heard a man cry almanacks -in the street, and importuned his father till he obtained leave to -start on the same itinerant enterprise. In this he succeeded so well -that he deeply aggrieved the other venders, who, as he tells us in -his very whimsical but interesting biography, would have “done him -a mischief had he not possessed a light pair of heels.” Resolute -on not continuing at home, he persuaded his father, at length, to -bind him apprentice with a shoemaker in a neighbouring town, and at -fourteen years of age sat down to learn his trade. - -We will not follow this singular specimen of human nature, spoilt -by want of education and by evil example, through all the vagaries -of his youth. Taking him up at four-and-twenty, after he had -experienced considerable changes in religious feeling, and gathered -some smatterings of knowledge from reading, we find him marrying, -and beginning the world the next morning with one halfpenny. Yet -he and his wife set cheerfully to work, he tells us; and by great -industry and self-denial, they not only earned a living, but paid -off a debt of forty shillings, which was somewhat summarily claimed -by a friend of whom he had borrowed that sum. Trials very soon fell -to his lot which tended to make him deeply thoughtful. His wife was -ill for six months; and, at the end of that period, he was compelled -to remove her from Bristol to Taunton, for her health’s sake. During -two years and a half the poor woman was removed five times to and -from Taunton without permanent recovery; and Lackington, despairing -of an amendment of his circumstances under such discouragements, -resolved to leave his native district. He therefore gave his wife -all the money he had, except what he thought would suffice to bring -him to London; and, mounting a stage coach, reached town with but -half-a-crown in his pocket. He got work the next morning, saved -enough in a month to bring up his wife, and she had tolerable health, -and obtained “binding work” from his employer. - -Lackington was now fairly entered on the path to prosperity. His -partner was a pattern of self-denial and economy; they began to save -money, bought clothes, and then household furniture, left lodgings, -and had a house of their own. A friend, not long after, proposed that -Lackington should take a little shop and parlour, which were “to let” -in Featherstone-street, City-road, and commence master shoemaker. -Lackington agreed, but also formed the resolution to sell old books. -With his own scanty collection, a bagful of old volumes he purchased -for a guinea, and his scraps of leather, altogether worth about -5_l._, he accordingly commenced master tradesman. He soon sold off, -and increased his stock of books; and next borrowed 5_l._ of John -Wesley’s people—“a sum of money kept on purpose to lend out for three -months, without interest, to such of their society whose characters -were good, and who wanted temporary relief.” Much to his shame he -traduces the character of the philanthropic Wesley and of his brother -religionists, in his “Confessions,” even while acknowledging that -this benevolent loan was “of great service” to him. He afterwards -endeavoured to make the _amende honorable_, but the mode in which it -was made was as unadmirable as his ungrateful offence. But, to return -to his narrative. - -“In our new situation,” says he, “we lived in a very frugal manner, -often dining on potatoes, and quenching our thirst with water, being -determined, if possible, to make some provision for such dismal times -as sickness and shortness of work, which had often been our lot, and -might be again.” In six months he became worth five-and-twenty pounds -in old book stock, removed into Chiswell-street, to a more commodious -shop, though the street, he says, was then (in 1775) a dull street, -gave up shoemaking, “turned his leather into books,” and soon began -to have a great sale. Another series of reverses, during which his -wife died, his shop was closed, while he himself was prostrate with -fever, and was robbed by nurses, only served to sharpen his intents -and strengthen his perseverance, when he recovered. His second -marriage, with an intelligent woman, he found of immense advantage, -since his new partner was a very efficient helpmate in the book-shop. -Next, his friend Dennis became partaker in his business, and advanced -a small capital, by which they “doubled stock,” and printed their -first catalogue of 12,000 volumes. They took 20_l._ the first week, -and Dennis then advanced 200_l._ more towards the trade; but, after -two years, Lackington was left once more to himself, his friend being -weary of the business. A resolution not to give credit gave him -great difficulty, he says, for at least seven years, but he carried -his plan at last, principally by selling at very small profits. His -business premises were successively enlarged, and his sales likewise, -until his trade and himself became wonders. At the age of fifty-two -he went out of business, leaving his cousin head of the firm. He sold -100,000 volumes annually, during the latter years of his personal -attention to trade, kept his carriage, purchased two estates, and -built himself a genteel house. He once more became a professor of -religion, on retiring from business, and built several chapels. -He was, in the close of life, benevolent in visiting the sick and -indigent, and in relieving the distressed. - -“As the first king of Bohemia kept his country shoes by him to -remind him from whence he was taken,” says the bookseller, in his -“Confessions,” “so I have put a motto on the doors of my carriage, -constantly to remind me to what I am indebted for my prosperity, viz. -‘Small profits do great things;’ and reflecting on the means by which -I have been enabled to support a carriage, adds not a little to the -pleasure of riding in it.” Alluding to the stories that were rife -respecting his success, attributing it to his purchasing a “fortunate -lottery-ticket,” or “finding bank-notes in an old book,” he says, -very emphatically, “I found the whole that I am possessed of, -in—_small profits_, bound by _industry_, and clasped by _economy_.” - -[Illustration: Decoration] - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -PHILANTHROPISTS. - - -One conviction forms the basis of all correct admiration for the -heroism and intrepidity of scientific discoverers, the marvellous -inventions of mechanicians; the sublime enthusiasm of poets, artists, -and musicians; the laborious devotion of scholars; and even of the -intelligent industry of the accumulators of wealth: it is that all -their efforts and achievements tend, by the law of our nature, -to the amelioration of man’s condition. In every mind swayed by -reflection, and not by impulse or prejudice, the world’s admiration -for warriors is regarded as mistaken, because the deeds of the -soldier are the infliction of suffering and destruction, spring from -the most evil passions, and serve but to keep up the real hindrances -of civilization and human happiness. Statues and columns erected -in honour of conquerors, excellent as they may be for the display -of art, serve, therefore, in every correct mind, for subjects of -regretful rather than encouraging and satisfactory contemplation. The -self-sacrificing enterprises of the philanthropist, on the contrary, -create in every properly regulated mind, still purer admiration, -still more profound and enduring esteem, than even the noblest and -grandest efforts of the children of Mind and Imagination. The DIVINE -EXEMPLAR himself is at the head of their class; and they seem, -of all the sons of men, most transcendently to reflect his image, -because their deeds are direct acts of mercy and goodness, and misery -and suffering flee at their approach. Harbingers of the benign reign -of Human Brotherhood which the popular spirit of our age devoutly -regards as the eventual destiny of the world, they will be venerated, -and their memories cherished and loved, when laurelled conquerers -are mentioned no more with praise, or are forgotten. Emulation is -sometimes termed a motive of questionable morality; but to emulate -the high and holy in enterprises of self-sacrificing beneficence can -never be an unworthy passion; for half the value of a good man’s life -would be lost, if his example did not serve to fill others with such -a plenitude of love for his goodness, as to impel them to imitate him. - -It is the example of the philanthropist, then, that we commend, above -all other examples, to the imitation of all who are beginning life. -We would say, scorn indolence, ignorance, and reckless imprudence -that makes you dependent on others’ effort instead of your own; but, -more than all, scorn selfishness and a life useless to man, your -brother, cleave to knowledge, industry, and refinement; but, beyond -all, cleave to goodness. - -In a world where so much is wrong—where, for ages, the cupidity of -some, and the ignorance and improvidence of a greater number—has -increased the power of wrong, it need not be said how dauntless must -be the soul of perseverance needed to overcome this wrong by the -sole and only effectual efforts of gentleness and goodness. That -wisdom—deeply calculating wisdom—not impulsive and indiscriminate -“charity,” as it is falsely named—should also lend its calm but -energetic guidance to him who aims to assist in removing the miseries -of the world, must be equally evident. To understand to what morally -resplendent deeds this dauntless spirit can conduct, when thus guided -by wisdom, and armed with the sole power of gentleness, we need to -fix our observance but on one name—the most worshipful soldier of -humanity our honoured land has ever produced: the true champion of -_persevering_ goodness. - - -JOHN HOWARD, - -Inheriting a handsome competence from his father, whom he lost -while young, went abroad early, and in Italy acquired a taste for -art. He made purchases of such specimens of the great masters as -his means would allow, and embellished therewith his paternal seat -of Cardington, in Bedfordshire. His first wife, who had attended -him with the utmost kindness during a severe illness, and whom, -though much older than himself, he had married from a principle of -gratitude, died within three years of their union; and to relieve -his mind from the melancholy occasioned by her death, he resolved on -leaving England for another tour. The then recent earthquake which -had laid Lisbon in ruins, rendered Portugal a clime of interest -with him, and he set sail for that country. The packet, however, -was captured by a French privateer; and he and other prisoners -were carried into Brest, and placed in the castle. They had been -kept forty hours without food or water before entering the filthy -dungeon into which they were cast, and it was still a considerable -time before a joint of mutton was thrown into the midst of them, -which, for want of the accommodation even of a solitary knife, they -were obliged to tear to pieces and gnaw like dogs. For nearly a week -Howard and his companions were compelled to lie on the floor of this -dungeon, with nothing but straw to shelter them from its noxious and -unwholesome damps. He was then removed to another town where British -prisoners were kept; and though permitted to reside in the town on -his “parole,” or word of honour, he had evidence, he says, that many -hundreds of his countrymen perished in their imprisonment, and that, -at one place, thirty-six were buried in a hole in one day. He was -at length permitted to return home, but it was upon his promise to -go back to France, if his own government should refuse to exchange -him for a French naval officer. As he was only a private individual, -it was doubtful whether government would consent to this; and he -desired his friends to forbear the congratulations with which they -welcomed his return, assuring them he should perform his promise, if -government expressed a refusal. Happily the negotiation terminated -favourably, and Howard felt himself, once more, at complete freedom -in his native land. - -It is to this event, comprising much personal suffering for himself, -and the grievous spectacle of so much distress endured by his sick -and dying fellow-countrymen in bonds, that the first great emotion -in the mind of this exalted philanthropist must be dated. Yet, like -many deep thoughts which have resulted in noble actions, Howard’s -grand life-thought lay a long time in the germ within the recesses of -his reflective faculty. He first returned to his Cardington estate, -and, together with his delight in the treasures of art, occupied his -mind with meteorological observations, which he followed up with such -assiduity as to draw upon himself some notice from men of science, -and to be chosen a Fellow of the Royal Society. - -After his second marriage, he continued to reside upon his estate, -and to improve and beautify it. The grounds were, indeed, laid -out with a degree of taste only equalled on the estates of the -nobility. But it was impossible for such a nature as Howard’s -to be occupied solely with a consideration of his pleasures and -comforts. His tenantry were the constant objects of his care, and -in the improvement of their habitations and modes of life he found -delightful employment for by far the greater portion of his time. -In his beneficent plans for the amelioration of the condition of -the poor he was nobly assisted by the second Mrs. Howard, who was a -woman of exemplary and self-sacrificing benevolence. One act alone -affords delightful proof of this. She sold her jewels soon after her -marriage, and put the money into a purse called, by herself and her -husband, “the charity-purse,” from the consecration of its contents -to the relief of the poor and destitute. - -The death of this excellent woman plunged him again into sorrow, -from which he, at first, sought relief in watching over the nurture -of the infant son she had left him, having breathed her last soon -after giving birth to the child. When his son was old enough to be -transferred entirely to the care of a tutor, Howard renewed his -visits to the continent. His journal contains proof that his mind -was deeply engaged in reflection on all he saw; but neither yet -does the master-thought of his life appear to have strengthened to -such a degree as to make itself very evident in the workings of his -heart and understanding. His election to the office of high sheriff -of the county of Bedford, on his return, seems to have been the -leading occurrence in his life, judging by the influence it threw on -the tone of his thinkings and the character of his acts, to the end -of his mortal career. He was forty-six years of age at the time of -his election to this office, intellectual culture had refined his -character, and much personal trial and affliction had deepened his -experience: the devotion of such a man as John Howard to his great -errand of philanthropy was not, therefore, any vulgar and merely -impulsive enthusiasm. We have seen that the germ of his design had -lain for years in his mind, scarcely fructifying or unfolding itself, -except in the kindly form of homely charity. The power was now about -to be breathed upon it which should quicken it into the mightiest -energy of human goodness. - -He thus records the grievances he now began to grow ardent for -removing: “The distress of prisoners, of which there are few who -have not some imperfect idea, came more immediately under my notice -when I was sheriff of the county of Bedford; and the circumstance -which excited me to activity in their behalf was, the seeing some, -who by the verdict of juries were declared _not guilty_—some, on whom -the grand jury did not find such an appearance of guilt as subjected -them to trial—and some whose prosecutors did not appear against -them—after having been confined for months, dragged back to gaol, and -locked up again till they could pay _sundry fees_ to the gaoler, the -clerk of assize, &c. In order to redress this hardship, I applied -to the justices of the county for a salary to the gaoler in lieu of -his fees. The bench were properly affected with the grievance, and -willing to grant the relief desired; but they wanted a precedent for -charging the county with the expense. I therefore rode into several -neighbouring counties in search of a precedent; but I soon learned -that the same injustice was practised in them; and looking into the -prisons, I beheld scenes of calamity which I grew daily more and -more anxious to alleviate.” How free from violence of emotion and -exaggerated expression is his statement; how calmly, rationally, and -thoughtfully he commenced his glorious enterprise! - -He commences, soon after this, a series of journeys for the -inspection of English prisons; and visits, successively, the gaols -of Cambridge, Huntingdon, Northampton, Leicester, Nottingham, Derby, -Stafford, Warwick, Worcester, Gloucester, Oxford, and Buckingham. -In many of the gaols he found neither court-yard, water, beds, nor -even straw, for the use of the prisoners: no sewers, most miserable -provisions, and those extremely scanty, and the whole of the rooms -gloomy, filthy, and loathsome. The greatest oppressions and cruelties -were practised on the wretched inmates: they were heavily ironed -for trivial offences, and frequently confined in dungeons under -ground. The Leicester gaol presented more inhuman features than any -other; the free ward for debtors who could not afford to pay for -better accommodation, was a long dungeon called a cellar, down seven -steps—damp, and having but two windows in it, the largest about a -foot square; the rooms in which the felons were confined night and -day were also dungeons from five to seven steps under ground. - -In the course of another tour he visited the gaols of Hertford, -Berkshire, Wiltshire, Dorsetshire, Hampshire, and Sussex; set out -again to revisit the prisons of the Midlands; spent a fortnight in -viewing the gaols of London and Surrey; and then went once more on -the same great errand of mercy into the west of England. Shortly -after his return he was examined before a Committee of the whole -House of Commons, gave full and satisfactory answers to the questions -proposed to him, and was then called before the bar of the House to -receive from the Speaker the assurance “that the House were very -sensible of the humanity and zeal which had led him to visit the -several gaols of this kingdom, and to communicate to the House the -interesting observations he had made upon that subject.” - -The intention of the Legislature to proceed to the correction of -prison abuses, which the noble philanthropist might infer from this -expression of thanks, did not cause him to relax in the pursuit -of the high mission he was now so earnestly entered upon. After -examining thoroughly the shameless abuses of the Marshalsea, in -London, he proceeded to Durham, from thence through Northumberland, -Cumberland, Westmoreland, and Lancashire, and inspected not only -the prisons in those counties, but a third time went through the -degraded gaols of the Midlands. A week’s rest at Cardington, and -away he departs to visit the prisons in Kent, and to examine all -he had not yet entered in London. North and South Wales and the -gaols of Chester, and again Worcester and Oxford, he next surveys, -and discovers another series of subjects for the exertion of his -benevolence. - -“Seeing,” says he, in his uniform and characteristic vein of -modesty, “in two or three of the _county gaols_ some poor creatures -whose aspect was singularly deplorable, and asking the cause of -it, I was answered they were lately brought from the _Bridewells_. -This started a fresh subject of inquiry. I resolved to inspect the -Bridewells; and for that purpose I travelled again into the counties -where I had been, and indeed into all the rest, examining _houses -of correction and city and town gaols_. I beheld in many of them, -as well as in county gaols, a complication of distress; but my -attention was particularly fixed by the gaol-fever and small-pox -which I saw prevailing to the destruction of multitudes, not only of -felons in their dungeons, but of debtors also.” His holy mission now -comprehended for the philanthropist the enterprise of lessening the -disease as well as unjust and inhuman treatment of prisoners. - -The most striking scene of wrong detailed in any of his narratives -is in the account of the “Clink” prison of Plymouth, a part of the -town gaol. This place was seventeen feet by eight, and five feet and -a half high. It was utterly dark, and had no air except what could -be derived through an extremely small wicket in the door. To this -wicket, the dimensions of which were about seven inches by five, -three prisoners under sentence of transportation came by turns to -breathe, being confined in that wretched hole for nearly two months. -When Howard visited this place the door had not been opened for five -weeks. With considerable difficulty he entered, and with deeply -wounded feelings beheld an emaciated human being, the victim of -barbarity, who had been confined there ten weeks. This unfortunate -creature, who was under sentence of transportation, declared to the -humane visitor who thus risked his health and was happy to forego -ease and comfort to relieve the oppressed sufferer, that he would -rather have been hanged than thrust into that loathsome dungeon. - -The electors of Bedford, two years after Howard had held the -shrievalty of their county, urged him to become a candidate for the -representation of their borough in Parliament. He gave a reluctant -consent, but through unfair dealing was unsuccessful. We may, for a -moment, regret that the great philanthropist was not permitted to -introduce into the Legislature of England measures for the relief of -the oppressed suggested by his own large sympathies and experience; -but it was far better that he was freed from the shackles of -attendance on debates, and spared for ministration not only to the -sufferings of the injured in England but in Europe. - -He had long purposed to give to the world in a printed form the -result of his laborious investigations into the state of prisons in -this country; but “conjecturing,” he says, “that something useful -to his purpose might be collected abroad, he laid aside his papers -and travelled into France, Flanders, Holland, and Germany.” We have -omitted to state that he had already visited many of the prisons -in Scotland and Ireland. At Paris he gained admission to some of -the prisons with extreme difficulty; but to get access to the -state prisons the jealousy of the governments rendered it almost -impossible, and under any circumstances dangerous. The intrepid heart -of Howard, however, was girt up to adventure, and he even dared to -attempt an entrance into the infamous Bastille itself! “I knocked -hard,” he says, “at the outer gate, and immediately went forward -through the guard to the drawbridge before the entrance of the -castle; but while I was contemplating this gloomy mansion, an officer -came out of the castle much surprised, and I was forced to retreat -through the mute guard, and thus regained that freedom, which, for -one locked up within those walls, it would be next to impossible to -obtain.” In the space of four centuries, from the foundation to the -destruction of the Bastille, it has been observed that Howard was -the only person ever compelled to quit it with reluctance. - -By taking advantage of some regulations of the Paris Parliament, -he succeeded in gaining admission to other prisons, and found even -greater atrocities committed there than in the very worst gaols in -England. Flanders presented a striking contrast. “However rigorous -they may be,” says he, speaking of the regulations for the prisons -of Brussels, “yet their great care and attention to their prisons is -worthy of commendation: all fresh and clean, no gaol distemper, no -prisoners ironed. The bread allowance far exceeds that of any of our -gaols; every prisoner here has two pounds of bread per day, soup once -every day, and on Sunday one pound of meat.” He notes afterwards that -he “carefully visited some Prussian, Austrian, and Hessian gaols,” -and “with the utmost difficulty” gained access to “many dismal -abodes” of prisoners. - -Returning to England, he travelled through every county repursuing -his mission, and after devoting three months to a renewed inspection -of the London prisons again set out for the continent. Our space will -not allow of a record of the numerous evils he chronicles in these -renewed visits. The prisoners of Switzerland, but more than all, of -Holland, afforded him a relief to the vision of horrors he witnessed -elsewhere. We must find room for some judicious observations he -makes on his return from this tour. “When I formerly made the tour -of Europe,” are his words, “I seldom had occasion to envy foreigners -anything I saw with respect to their _situation_, their _religion_, -_manners_, or _government_. In my late journeys to view their -_prisons_ I was sometimes put to the blush for my native country. -The reader will scarcely feel, from my narration, the same emotions -of shame and regret as the comparison excited in me on beholding -the difference with my own eyes; but from the account I have given -him of foreign prisons, he may judge whether a design for reforming -their own be merely visionary—whether _idleness_, _debauchery_, -_disease_, and _famine_, be the necessary attendants of a prison, -or only connected with it in our ideas for want of a more perfect -knowledge and more enlarged views. I hope, too, that he will do me -the justice to think that neither an indiscriminate admiration of -every thing foreign, nor a fondness for censuring every thing at -home, has influenced me to adopt the language of a panegyrist in -this part of my work, or that of a complainant in the rest. Where I -have commended I have mentioned my reasons for so doing; and I have -dwelt, perhaps, more minutely upon the management of foreign prisons -because it was more agreeable to praise than to condemn. Another -motive induced me to be very particular in my accounts of _foreign -houses of correction_, especially those of the freest states. It was -to counteract a notion prevailing among us that compelling prisoners -to work, especially in public, was inconsistent with the principles -of English liberty; at the same time that taking away the lives of -such numbers, either by executions or the diseases of our prisons, -seems to make little impression upon us; of such force are custom -and prejudice in silencing the voice of good sense and humanity. I -have only to add that, fully sensible of the imperfections which must -attend the cursory survey of a traveller, it was my study to remedy -that defect by a constant attention to the one object of my pursuit -alone during the whole of my two last journeys abroad.” - -He did not allow himself a single day’s rest on returning to England, -but immediately recommenced his work here. He notes some pleasing -improvements, particularly in the Nottingham gaol, since his last -preceding visit; but narrates other discoveries of a most revolting -description. The gaol at Knaresborough was in the ruined castle, and -had but two rooms without a window. The keeper lived at a distance, -there being no accommodation for him in the prison. The debtors’ gaol -was horrible; it consisted of only one room difficult of access, -had an earthen floor, no fire-place, and there was a common sewer -from the town running through it uncovered! In this miserable and -disgusting hole Howard learned that an officer had been confined some -years before, who took with him his dog to defend him from vermin: -his face was, however, much disfigured by their attacks, and the dog -was actually destroyed by them. - -At length he prepared to print his “State of the Prisons of England -and Wales, with preliminary observations, and an Account of some -Foreign Prisons.” In this laborious and valuable work, he was largely -assisted by the excellent Dr. Aikin, a highly congenial mind; and -it was completed in a form which, even in a literary point of view, -makes it valuable. The following very brief extract from it, is full -of golden reflection: “Most gentlemen who, when they are told of the -misery which our prisoners suffer, content themselves with saying, -‘_Let them take care to keep out_,’ prefaced, perhaps, with an angry -prayer, seem not duly sensible of the favour of Providence, which -distinguishes them from the sufferers: they do not remember that we -are required to imitate our gracious Heavenly Parent, who is ‘_kind -to the unthankful and the evil_!’ They also forget the vicissitudes -of human affairs; the unexpected changes, to which all men are -liable; and that those whose circumstances are affluent, may, in -time, be reduced to indigence, and become debtors and prisoners.” - -As soon as his book was published he presented copies of it to most -of the principal persons in the kingdom,—thus devoting his wealth, in -another form, to the cause of humanity. When it is recounted that he -had not only spent large sums in almost incessant travelling, during -four years, but had paid the prison fees of numbers who could not -otherwise have been liberated, although their periods of sentence had -transpired, some idea may be formed of the heart that was within this -great devotee of mercy and goodness—the purest of all worships. - -The spirits of all reflecting men were roused by this book: the -Parliament passed an act for the better regulation of the “hulk” -prisons; and on Howard’s visiting the hulks and detecting the -evasions practised by the superintendents, the government proceeded -to rectify the abuses. Learning that government projected further -prison reforms, he again set out for the continent to gain additional -information in order to lay it before the British Parliament. An -accident at the Hague confined him to his room for six weeks, by -throwing him into an inflammatory fever; but he was no sooner -recovered than he proceeded to enter on his work anew, by visiting -the prison at Rotterdam,—departing thence through Osnaburgh and -Hanover, into Germany, Prussia, Bohemia, Austria, Italy, Switzerland, -and back through France, again reaching England. Not to enumerate -any of his statements respecting his prison visits, let us point -the young reader to the answer he gave to Prince Henry of Prussia, -who, in the course of his first conversation with the earnest -philanthropist, asked him whether he ever went to any public place -in the evening, after the labours of the day were over. “Never,” he -replied, “as I derive more pleasure from doing my duty than from any -amusement whatever.” What a thorough putting-on of the great martyr -spirit there was in the life of this pure-souled man! - -Listen, too, to the evidence of his careful employment of the -faculty of reason, while thus enthusiastically devoted to the -tenderest offices of humanity: “I have frequently been asked what -precautions I used to preserve myself from infection in the prisons -and hospitals which I visit. I here answer once for all, that next -to the free goodness and mercy of the Author of my being, temperance -and cleanliness are my preservatives. Trusting in Divine Providence, -and being myself in the way of my duty, I visit the most noxious -cells, and while thus employed ‘_I fear no evil_!’ I never enter -an hospital or prison before breakfast, and in an offensive room I -seldom draw my breath deeply.” - -Mark his intrepid championship of Truth, too, as well as of Mercy. -He was dining at Vienna, with the English ambassador to the Austrian -court, and one of the ambassador’s party, a German, had been uttering -some praises of the Emperor’s abolition of torture. Howard declared -it was only to establish a worse torture, and instanced an Austrian -prison which, he said, was “as bad as the black hole at Calcutta,” -and that prisoners were only taken from it when they confessed what -was laid to their charge. “Hush!” said the English ambassador (Sir -Robert Murray Keith), “your words will be reported to his Majesty!” -“What!” exclaimed Howard, “shall my tongue be tied from speaking -truth by any king or emperor in the world? I repeat what I asserted, -and maintain its veracity.” Profound silence ensued, and “every one -present,” says Dr. Brown, “admired the intrepid boldness of the man -of humanity.” - -Another return to England, another survey of prisons here, and he -sets out on his fourth continental tour of humanity, travelling -through Denmark, Sweden, Russia, Poland, and then, again, Holland -and Germany. Another general and complete revisitation of prisons in -England followed, and then a fifth continental pilgrimage of goodness -through Portugal, Spain, France, the Netherlands, and Holland. During -his absence from England this time, his friends proposed to erect a -monument to him; but he was gloriously great in humility as in truth, -benevolence, and intrepidity. “Oh, why could not my friends,” says -he, in writing to them, “who know how much I detest such parade, have -stopped such a hasty measure?... It deranges and confounds all my -schemes. My exaltation is my fall—my misfortune.” - -[Illustration: JOHN HOWARD.] - -He summed up the number of miles he had travelled for the reform of -prisons, on his return to England after his journey, and another -re-examination of the prisons at home, and found that the total -was 42,033. Glorious _perseverance_! But he is away again! having -found a new object for the yearnings of his ever-expanding heart. -He conceived, from inquiries of his medical friends, that that most -dreadful scourge of man’s race—the plague—could be arrested in its -destructive course. He visits Holland, France, Italy, Malta, Zante, -the Levant, Turkey, Venice, Austria, Germany, and returns also by -Holland to England. The narrative glows with interest in this tour; -but the young reader—and how can he resist it if he have a heart to -love what is most deserving of love—must turn to one of the larger -biographies of Howard for the circumstances. Alas! a stroke was -prepared for him on his return. His son, his darling son, had become -disobedient, progressed fearfully in vice, and his father found him a -raving maniac! - -Howard’s only refuge from this poignant affliction was in the renewal -of the great mission of his life. He again visited the prisons of -Ireland and Scotland, and left England to renew his humane course -abroad, but never to return. From Amsterdam this tour extended to -Cherson, in Russian Tartary. Attending one afflicted with the plague -there, he fell ill, and in a few days breathed his last. He wished -to be buried where he died, and without pomp or monument: “Lay me -quietly in the earth,” said he; “place a sun-dial over my grave, -and let me be forgotten!” Who would not desire at death that he had -forgone every evanescent pleasure a life of selfishness could bring, -to live and die like John Howard? - - - - -CONCLUSION. - - -Work, and the true nobility of being devoted to it, distinguished -every exemplar recorded in our sketch; and no name of eminence or -excellence can be selected in human annals who has ever used the -phrase, which can only console idiots, that “he is perfectly happy, -for he has nothing to do, and nothing to think about!” “Nothing to -do!” in a world whose elements are, as yet, but partially subdued -by man, and whose happiness can be augmented so incalculably by the -perfecting of his dominion over Nature. “Nothing to think about!” -when language, and poetry, and art, and music, and science, and -invention, afford ecstatic occupation for thought which could not -be exhausted if a man’s life were even extended on the earth to a -million of years. “Nothing to do, and nothing to think about!” while -millions are doing and thinking,—for a human creature to profess that -he derives pleasure from such a state of consciousness, is to confess -his willingness to be fed, clothed, and attended by others, while he -is meanly and despicably indolent and degradingly dependent. - -Young reader, spurn the indulgence of a thought so unworthy of a -human being! Remember, that happiness, worth the name, can never -be gained unless in the discharge of duty, or under the sense of -duty done. And work is duty—thy duty—the duty of all mankind. -Whatever may be a man’s situation, from the lowliest to the highest -he has a work to perform as a bounden duty. Such was glorious -Alfred’s conviction as a king: such was Lackington’s conviction as -a tradesman. For every diversity of mind and genius the universe in -which we live affords work, and the peculiar work for which each mind -is filled becomes its bounden duty by natural laws. “First of all we -ought to do _our own duty_—but, first of all,” were the memorable -death-bed words of Canova; and the conviction they expressed -constituted the soul-spring of every illustrious man’s life. The -life of Canova was—work: so was the life of Shakspere, of Milton, -of Jones, of Johnson, of Handel, of Davy, of Watt, of Newton, of -all-glorious Howard. Their lives were “Triumphs of Perseverance:” -even their deaths did not lessen their triumphs. “Being dead, they -yet speak.” They are ever present with us in their great words and -thoughts, and in their great acts. Their spirits thus still conjoin -to purify and enlighten the world: they are still transforming -it, in some senses more effectually than if still living, from -ignorance, and vice, and wrong and suffering, into a maturing sphere -of knowledge and might over Nature, and justice and brotherhood. -Let every earnest heart and mind be resolved on treading in their -footsteps, and aiding in the realisation of the cheering trust that -the world shall yet be a universally happy world, and so man reach -that perfect consummation of the “TRIUMPHS OF PERSEVERANCE!” - - - - -THE - -TRIUMPHS OF ENTERPRISE. - - - - -THE - -TRIUMPHS OF ENTERPRISE. - - - - -INTRODUCTION. - - -Without Enterprise there would have been no civilization, and there -would now be no progress. To try, to attempt, to pass beyond an -obstacle, marks the civilized man as distinguished from the savage. -The advantage of passing beyond a difficulty by a single act of trial -has offered itself, in innumerable instances, to the savage, but in -vain; it has passed him by unobserved, unheeded. Nay, more: when led -by the civilized man to partake of the advantages of higher life, -the savage has repeatedly returned to his degradation. Thus it has -often been with the native Australian. A governor of the colony, -about sixty years ago, by an innocent stratagem took one of the -native warriors into his possession, and strove to reconcile him to -the habits of civilized life. Good clothes and the best food were -given him; he was treated with the utmost kindness, and, when brought -to England, the attention of people of distinction was lavished -upon him. The Australian, however, was at length relanded in his own -country, when he threw away his clothes as burdensome restraints -upon his limbs, displayed his ancient appetite for raw meat, and -in all respects became as rude as if he had never left his native -wilderness. Another trial was made by a humane person, who procured -two infants—a boy and a girl—believing that such an early beginning -promised sure success. These young Australians were most carefully -trained, fed, and clothed, after the modes of civilized Europe, and -inured to the customs of our most improved society. At twelve years -old they were allowed to choose their future life, when they rejected -without hesitation the enjoyments of education, and fled to their -people in the back-ground to share their famine, nakedness, and cold. - -A savage would perish in despair where the civilized man would -readily discover the mode of extricating himself from difficulty; -and yet, in point of physical strength, it might be that the savage -was superior. Enterprise is thus clearly placed before the young -reader as a quality of mind. He may display it without being gifted -with strong corporeal power; it depends on thought, reflection, -calculation of advantage. Whoever displays it is sure to be in some -degree regarded with attention by his fellow men; it wins a man the -way to public notice, and often to high reward, almost unfailingly. -But the purpose of the ensuing pages is not to place false motives -before the mind; to display any excellence with a view expressly to -notice and reward and not from the wish to do good or to perform a -duty, is unworthy of the truly correct man. The promptings of duty -and beneficence are evermore to be kept before the mind as the only -true guides to action. - -In the instances of Enterprise presented in this little volume, -the young reader will not discover beneficence to have been the -invariable stimulant to action. Where the actor displays a deficiency -in the high quality of mercy, the reader is recommended to think -and judge for himself. The instances have been selected for their -striking character, and the reader must class them justly. Let him -call courage by its right name; and when it is not united with -tenderness, let the act be weighed and named at its true value. - - - - -CHAPTER I. - - -The word “Enterprise,” which, it has just been observed, marks the -character of the civilized man as distinguished from the savage, -might also be used with some degree of strictness to characterise -man as distinguished from the lower animals. Their instincts enable -some of them, as the bee and the beaver, to perform works of wondrous -ingenuity; but none of them step beyond what has been the vocation -of their species since it existed. The bounds of human exertion, on -the other hand, are apparently illimitable. Its achievements in one -generation, though deemed wonderful, are outstripped in the next; -and the latest successful efforts of courage and skill serve to give -us confidence that much or all which yet baffles man’s sagacity and -power in the realm of nature shall be eventually subjected to him; he -is a being of Enterprise. - -If endowed simply with bounded instincts he might have remained -the wild inhabitant of the forest covert, or continued the rude -tenant of the savage hut; his limitless, or, at least, indefinite -and ever-progressing mental capacity, has empowered him to overcome -obstacle after obstacle in the way to his increasing command over -Nature; the triumphs of one generation have been handed down to the -next, and the aggregate to those ages succeeding; and the catalogue -of these “Triumphs of Enterprise” would now form a library of -incalculable extent, since it would lead reflection into every path -of the dominions of history and natural philosophy, of science and -art. - -The rudest display of this great characteristic of man is the -assertion of his superiority to the rest of the animal world, and -seems to offer a primary claim to observation. The stronger and -fiercer animals would be the first enemies with which man had to -struggle. With his conquest of their strength and ferocity, and -subjection of some of their tribes to his use and service, his -empire must have begun. Had we authentic records remaining of the -earliest human essays towards taming the dog, domesticating the cat, -and training for beneficial use or service the goat, the sheep, and -the ox, the horse and the elephant, the camel, the llama, and the -reindeer, such a chronicle would be filled with interest. Fable, -however, surrounds the scanty memorials that remain of this as well -as of higher departments of human discovery in the primeval ages. -Abundant material exists in ancient history for a narrative of the -more exciting part of these triumphs—the successful display of man’s -courage as opposed to the mightier strength of the more ferocious -animals; but the accounts of such adventures in later times are less -doubtful, and a brief recapitulation of a few of them will serve -equally well to introduce the “Triumphs of Enterprise.” - - -GENERAL PUTNAM, - -[Illustration: GENERAL PUTNAM] - -Who signalised his courage in the struggles with the French on the -continent of North America about the middle of the last century, -removed after the war to the State of Connecticut. The wolves, then -very numerous, broke into his sheepfold, and killed seven fine sheep -and goats, besides wounding many lambs and kids. The chief havoc was -committed by a she-wolf, which, with her annual litter of whelps, -had infested the neighbourhood. The young were generally destroyed -by the vigilance of the hunters, but the mother-wolf was too wary -to come within gun-shot, and upon being closely pursued would fly to -the western woods, and return the next winter with another litter -of whelps. This wolf at length became such an intolerable nuisance -that Putnam entered into a combination with five of his neighbours -to hunt alternately until they could destroy her; two, by rotation, -were to be constantly in pursuit. It was known that having lost the -toes of one foot by a steel trap she made one track shorter than -the other. By this peculiarity the pursuers recognised in a light -snow the route of this destructive animal. Having followed her to -Connecticut river and found that she had turned back in a direct -course towards Pomfret, they immediately returned, and by ten o’clock -the next morning the bloodhounds had driven her into a den about -three miles from Putnam’s house. The people soon collected with -dogs, guns, straw, fire, and sulphur, to attack the common enemy. -With these materials several unsuccessful efforts were made to force -her from her den; the dogs came back badly wounded, and refused to -return to the charge; the smoke of blazing straw had no effect, -nor did the fumes of burnt brimstone, with which the cavern was -filled, compel the wolf to quit her retirement. Wearied with such -fruitless attempts, which had been continued until ten o’clock at -night, Putnam tried once more to make his dog enter, but in vain. He -proposed to his negro to go down into the cavern and shoot the wolf, -but the negro dared not. Then it was that Putnam, declaring he would -not have a coward in his family, and angry at the disappointment, -resolved himself to destroy the ferocious beast or to perish in the -attempt. His neighbours strongly remonstrated against the perilous -undertaking; but he, knowing that wild animals are intimidated by -fire, and having provided several slips of birch bark, the only -combustible material which he could obtain that would afford light -in this deep and darksome cave, prepared for his descent. Having -divested himself of his coat and waistcoat, and fixed a strong rope -round his body by which he might at a concerted signal be drawn out -of the cave, he fearlessly entered head-foremost with the blazing -torch in his hand. - -The aperture of the den, on the east side of a very high ledge of -rocks, was about two feet square; thence it descended obliquely -fifteen feet, then running horizontally about ten more it ascended -gradually sixteen feet towards its termination. The sides of this -subterranean cavity were composed of smooth and solid rocks, which -seem to have been driven from each other by some great convulsion of -nature. The top and bottom were of stone, and the entrance to it in -winter being covered with ice was exceedingly slippery. The cave was -difficult of access, being in no place high enough for a man to stand -upright, nor in any part more than three feet wide. - -Having groped his passage to the horizontal part of the den, the -most terrifying darkness appeared in front of the dim circle of -light afforded by his torch. “It was silent as the tomb; none but -monsters of the desert had ever before explored this solitary mansion -of horror,” says the relator. Putnam cautiously proceeded onward; -came to the ascent, which he mounted on his hands and knees, and then -discovered the glaring eyeballs of the wolf, which was sitting at -the extremity of the cavern. Startled at the sight of the fire, she -gnashed her teeth and gave a sullen growl. As soon as he had made -the discovery he gave the signal for pulling him out of the cavern. -The people at the mouth of the den, who had listened with painful -anxiety, hearing the growling of the wolf, and supposing their friend -to be in danger, drew him forth with such quickness that his shirt -was stripped over his head and his body much lacerated. After he had -adjusted his clothes and loaded his gun with nine buck shot, with a -torch in one hand and his musket in the other, he descended a second -time. He approached the wolf nearer than before. She assumed a still -more fierce and terrible appearance, howling, rolling her eyes, and -gnashing her teeth. At length, dropping her head between her legs, -she prepared to spring upon him. At this critical moment he levelled -his piece and shot her in the head. Stunned with the shock, and -nearly suffocated with the smoke, he immediately found himself drawn -out of the cave. Having refreshed himself and permitted the smoke to -clear away, he entered the terrible cave a third time, when to his -great satisfaction he found the wolf was dead; he then took hold of -her ears, and making the necessary signal, the people above, with no -small exultation, drew the wolf and her conqueror both out together. - -From among the numerous records of successful encounter with tigers, -let us select that of - - -LIEUT. EVAN DAVIES, - -[Illustration: LIEUT. EVAN DAVIES] - -Which occurred while the British army was lying at Agoada, near Goa, -1809. A report was one morning brought to the cantonment that a very -large tiger had been seen on the rocks near the sea. About nine -o’clock a number of horses and men assembled at the spot where it -was said to have been seen, when, after some search, the animal was -discovered to be in the recess of an immense rock; dogs were sent in -in the hope of starting him, but without effect, having returned with -several wounds. Finding it impossible to dislodge the animal by such -means, Lieut. Davies, of the 7th regiment, attempted to enter the -den, but was obliged to return, finding the passage extremely narrow -and dark. He attempted it, however, a second time, with a pick-axe in -his hand, with which he removed some obstructions that were in the -way. Having proceeded a few yards he heard a noise which he conceived -to be that of the animal. He then returned, and communicated with -Lieut. Threw, of the Artillery, who also went in the same distance, -and was of a similar opinion. What course to pursue was doubtful. -Some proposed to blow up the rock; others, to smoke the animal out. -At length a port-fire was tied to the end of a bamboo, and introduced -into a small crevice which led towards the den. Lieut. Davies went -on hands and knees down the narrow passage which led to it, and by -the light of his torch he was enabled to discover the animal. Having -returned, he said he could kill him with a pistol, which, being -procured, he again entered the cave and fired, but without success, -owing to the awkward situation in which he was placed, having only -his left hand at liberty. He next went with a musket and bayonet, -and wounded the tiger in the loins; but he was obliged to retreat as -quickly as the narrow passage would allow, the tiger having rushed -forward and forced the musket back towards the mouth of the den. -Lieut. Davies next procured a rifle, with which he again forced his -way into the cave, and taking deliberate aim at the tiger’s head, -fired, and put an end to its existence. He afterwards tied a strong -rope round the neck of the tiger, by which it was dragged out, to the -no small satisfaction of a numerous crowd of spectators. The animal -measured seven feet in length. - -Combats with wild elephants are still more dangerous than with the -tiger. From the following account given by a sojourner in India, -the extreme hazard attending such enterprises will be seen, while a -reflection can scarcely fail to arise on the wondrous superiority of -man’s sagacity which has enabled him to reduce this mightiest of land -animals to docile servitude. - -[Illustration: Elephant] - -“We had intelligence,” says the narrator, “of an immense wild -elephant being in a large grass swamp within five miles of us. He had -inhabited the swamp for years, and was the terror of the surrounding -villagers, many of whom he had killed. He had only one tusk; and -there was not a village for many miles round that did not know the -‘Burrah ek durt ke Hathee,’ or the large one-toothed elephant; and -one of our party had the year before been charged and his elephant -put to the right-about by this famous fellow. We determined to go in -pursuit of him; and accordingly on the third day after our arrival, -started in the morning, mustering, between private and government -elephants, thirty-two, but seven of them only with sportsmen on their -backs. As we knew that in the event of the wild one charging he -would probably turn against the male elephants, the drivers of two -or three of the largest were armed with spears. On our way to the -swamp we shot a great number of different sorts of game that got up -before the line of elephants, and had hardly entered the swamp when, -in consequence of one of the party firing at a partridge, we saw the -great object of our expedition. The wild elephant got up out of some -long grass about two hundred and fifty yards before us, when he stood -staring at us and flapping his huge ears. We immediately made a line -of the elephants with the sportsmen in the centre, and went straight -up to him until within a hundred and thirty yards, when, fearing he -was going to turn from us, all the party gave him a volley, some -of us firing two, three, and four barrels. He then turned round, -and made for the middle of the swamp. The chase now commenced, and -after following him upwards of a mile, with our elephants up to -their bellies in mud, we succeeded in turning him to the edge of the -swamp, where he allowed us to get within eighty yards of him, when we -gave him another volley in his full front, on which he made a grand -charge at us, but fortunately only grazed one of the pad elephants. -He then made again for the middle of the swamp, throwing up blood and -water from his trunk, and making a terrible noise, which clearly -showed that he had been severely wounded. We followed him, and were -obliged to swim our elephants through a piece of deep stagnant water, -occasionally giving shot, when making a stop in some very high grass -he allowed us again to come within sixty yards, and got another -volley, on which he made a second charge more furious than the first, -but was prevented making it good by some shots fired when very close -to us, which stunned and fortunately turned him. He then made for the -edge of the swamp, again swimming a piece of water, through which -we followed with considerable difficulty in consequence of our pads -and howdahs having become much heavier from the soaking they had got -twice before. We were up to the middle in the howdahs, and one of -the elephants fairly turned over and threw the rider and his guns -into the water. He was taken off by one of the pad elephants, but -his three guns went to the bottom. This accident took up some time, -during which the wild elephant had made his way to the edge of the -swamp, and stood perfectly still looking at us and trumpeting with -his trunk. As soon as we got all to rights we again advanced with the -elephants in the form of a crescent, in the full expectation of a -desperate charge, nor were we mistaken. The animal now allowed us to -come within forty yards of him, when we took a very deliberate aim at -his head, and, on receiving this fire, he made a most furious charge, -in the act of which, and when within ten yards of some of us, he -received his mortal wound and fell dead as a stone. His death-wound -on examination proved to be from a small ball over the left eye, for -this was the only one of thirty-one that he had received in his head, -which was found to have entered the brain. When down he measured in -height twelve feet four inches; in length, from the root of the tail -to the top of the head, sixteen feet; and ten feet round the neck. He -had upwards of eighty balls in his head and body. His only remaining -tusk when taken out weighed thirty-six pounds, and, when compared -with the tusks of tame elephants, was considered small for the size -of the animal. After he fell a number of villagers came about us, and -were rejoiced at the death of their formidable enemy, and assured us -that during the last four or five years he had killed nearly fifty -men; indeed, the knowledge of the mischief he had occasioned was -the only thing which could reconcile us to the death of so noble an -animal.” - - * * * * * - -Exciting as such accounts of contest with powerful land animals are, -they yield in depth of interest to the records of the whale fishery. -The potent combination of human courage and intelligence is so fully -manifested by an excellent description of these daring but well -ordered enterprises, contained in one of the volumes of the Edinburgh -Cabinet Library, that we present it to the young reader almost -entire:— - -[Illustration: Whale and ships] - -“As soon as they have arrived in those seas which are the haunt -of the whale, the crew must be every moment on the alert, keeping -watch day and night. The seven boats are kept hanging by the sides -of the ship ready to be launched in a few minutes, and, where the -state of the sea admits, one of them is usually manned and afloat. -These boats are from twenty-five to twenty-eight feet long, about -five and a half feet broad, and constructed with a special view to -lightness, buoyancy, and easy steerage. The captain or some principal -officer seated above surveys the water to a great distance, and the -instant he sees the back of the huge animal which they seek to attack -emerging from the waves, gives notice to the watch who are stationed -on deck, part of whom leap into a boat, which is instantly lowered -down, and followed by a second if the fish be a large one. Each of -the boats has a harpooner and one or two subordinate officers, and is -provided with an immense quantity of rope coiled together and stowed -in different quarters of it, the several parts being spliced together -so as to form a continued line usually exceeding four thousand feet -in length; to the end is attached the harpoon, an instrument formed -not to pierce and kill the animal, but by entering and remaining -fixed in the body to prevent its escape. One of the boats is now -rowed towards the whale in the deepest silence, cautiously avoiding -to give any alarm, of which he is very susceptible. Sometimes a -circuitous route is adopted in order to attack him from behind. -Having approached as near as is consistent with safety, the harpooner -darts his instrument into the back of the monster. This is a critical -moment, for when this mighty animal feels himself struck he often -throws himself into violent convulsive movements, vibrating in the -air his tremendous tail, one lash of which is sufficient to dash -a boat in pieces. More commonly, however, he plunges with rapid -flight into the depths of the sea or beneath the thickest fields -and mountains of ice. While he is thus moving, at the rate usually -of eight or ten miles an hour, the utmost diligence must be used -that the line to which the harpoon is attached may run off smoothly -and readily along with him; should it be entangled for a moment -the strength of the whale is such that he would draw the boat and -crew after him under the waves. The first boat ought to be quickly -followed up by a second to supply more line when the first is run -out, which often takes place in eight or ten minutes. When the crew -of a boat see the line in danger of being all run off, they hold -up one, two, or three oars, to intimate their pressing need of a -supply; at the same time they turn the rope once or twice round a -kind of post called the bollard, by which the motion of the line and -the career of the animal are somewhat retarded. This, however, is a -delicate operation, which brings the side of the boat down to the -very edge of the water, and if the rope be drawn at all too tight may -sink it altogether. While the line is rolling round the bollard the -friction is so violent that the harpooner is enveloped in smoke, and -water must be constantly poured on to prevent it catching fire. When, -after all, no aid arrives, and the crew find that the line must run -out, they have only one resource—they cut it, losing thereby not only -the whale but the harpoon and all the ropes of the boat. - -“When the whale is first struck and plunges into the waves, the -boat’s crew elevate a flag as a signal to the watch on deck, who -give the alarm to those asleep below by stamping violently on the -deck, and crying aloud, ‘A fall! a fall!’ On this notice they do not -allow themselves time to dress, but rush out in their sleeping-shirts -or drawers into an atmosphere the temperature of which is often -below zero, carrying along with them their clothing in a bundle -and trusting to make their toilette in the interval of manning and -pushing off the boats. Such is the tumult at this moment that young -mariners have been known to raise cries of fear, thinking the ship -was going down.” - -[Illustration: Whirlpool] - -The period during which a wounded whale remains under water is -various, but is averaged by Mr. Scoresby at about half an hour. Then, -pressed by the necessity of respiration, he appears above, often -considerably distant from the spot where he was harpooned and in a -state of great exhaustion, which the same ingenious writer ascribes -to the severe pressure that he has endured when placed beneath a -column of water seven hundred or eight hundred fathoms deep. All the -boats have meantime been spreading themselves in various directions, -that one at least may be within a _start_, as it is called, or about -two hundred yards at the point of his rising, at which distance they -can easily pierce him with one or two more harpoons before he again -descends, as he usually does for a few minutes. On his reappearance -a general attack is made with lances, which are struck as deep as -possible to reach and penetrate the vital parts. Blood mixed with oil -streams copiously from his wounds and from his blow-holes, dyeing -the sea to a great distance, and sprinkling and sometimes drenching -the boats and crews. The animal now becomes more and more exhausted, -but at the approach of his death he often makes a convulsive and -energetic struggle, rearing his tail high in the air, and whirling -it with a noise which is heard at the distance of several miles. -At length, quite overpowered and exhausted, he lays himself on his -side or back and expires. The flag is then taken down, and three loud -huzzas raised from the surrounding boats. No time is lost in piercing -the tail with two holes, through which ropes are passed, which, being -fastened to the boats, drag the fish to the vessel amid shouts of joy. - -One reflection must arise in the mind of the young reader—if he -have begun to reflect—on reading this brief description of whale -fishery enterprise. Man’s attack upon the whale is _not_ an act of -self-defence; is it, then, justifiable? We cannot go into the whole -argument which would present itself when such an important question -is asked. We leave the reader to grapple with the difficulty as a -healthy exercise for his understanding, only reminding him that the -conveniences of civilization in the degree hitherto reached would -be immensely curtailed if Man were not allowed to sacrifice for his -own use the lives of animals which, either by their gentle nature or -the localities they occupy, are without the range of the noxious and -dangerous class. - -[Illustration: Decoration] - - - - -CHAPTER II. - - -Equally early with their contests with wild animals primeval men -would have had to encounter peril, and to overcome difficulty in -the fulfilment of the natural desire possessed by some of them to -visit new regions of the earth. Even if the theory be true which is -supported by hundreds of learned volumes, that man’s first habitation -was in the most agreeable and fertile portion of Asia, by the banks -of the Tigris and Euphrates, the native characteristic of enterprise -would impel some among the first men to go in quest of new homes or -on journeys of exploration and adventure; and, as the human family -increased, removal for the youthful branches would be absolutely -necessary. - -To these primal travellers the perils of unknown adventure and the -pressure of want would most probably have proved excitements too -absorbing to have permitted a chronicle of their experience, even had -the art of writing then existed. But details of adventure as wild and -strange, perhaps, as any encountered by those earliest travellers -exist in the volumes of recent discoverers; and while glancing at -these we may imagine to ourselves similar enterprises of our race in -the thousands of years which are past and gone. Let it be observed, -in passing, that the young reader will find no books more rich and -varied in interest than those of intelligent travellers; and if our -slight mention of a few of their names as partakers in the “Triumphs -of Enterprise” should induce him to form a larger acquaintance -with their narratives, it can scarcely fail to induce thoughts and -resolves that will tend to his advantage. - -The perils to be undergone in desert regions are not more forcibly -described by any travellers than by Major Denham, Dr. Oudney, -and Captain Clapperton, the celebrated African discoverers. “The -sand-storm we had the misfortune to encounter in crossing the -desert,” says the former, “gave us a pretty correct idea of the -dreaded effects of these hurricanes. The wind raised the fine sand -with which the extensive desert was covered so as to fill the -atmosphere and render the immense space before us impenetrable to the -eye beyond a few yards. The sun and clouds were entirely obscured, -and a suffocating and oppressive weight accompanied the flakes and -masses of sand which, I had almost said, we had to penetrate at -every step. At times we completely lost sight of the camels, though -only a few yards before us. The horses hung their tongues out of -their mouths, and refused to face the torrents of sand. A sheep -that accompanied the kafila (the travelling train), the last of our -stock, lay down on the road, and we were obliged to kill him and -throw the carcass on a camel. A parching thirst oppressed us, which -nothing alleviated. We had made but little way by three o’clock in -the afternoon, when the wind got round to the eastward and refreshed -us a little; with this change we moved on until about five, when we -halted, protected in a measure by some hills. As we had but little -wood our fare was confined to tea, and we hoped to find relief from -our fatigues by a sound sleep. That, however, was denied us; the -tent had been imprudently pitched, and was exposed to the east wind, -which blew a hurricane during the night; the tent was blown down, -and the whole detachment were employed a full hour in getting it up -again. Our bedding and every thing within the tent was during that -time completely buried by the constant driving of the sand. I was -obliged three times during the night to get up for the purpose of -strengthening the pegs; and when in the morning I awoke two hillocks -of sand were formed on each side of my head some inches high.” - -[Illustration: Camels] - -Dr. Oudney, the partner of Denham and Clapperton, in their -adventurous enterprise, affords details more frightful in character. -“Strict orders had been given during a certain day of the journey,” -he informs us, “for the camels to keep close up, and for the Arabs -not to straggle—the Tibboo Arabs having been seen on the look out. -During the last two days,” he continues, “we had passed on the -average from sixty to eighty or ninety skeletons each day; but the -numbers that lay about the wells of El-Hammar were countless; those -of two women, whose perfect and regular teeth bespoke them young, -were particularly shocking—their arms still remained clasped round -each other as they had expired, although the flesh had long since -perished by being exposed to the burning rays of the sun, and the -blackened bones only were left; the nails of the fingers and some -of the sinews of the hand also remained, and part of the tongue of -one of them still appeared through the teeth. We had now passed six -days of desert without the slightest appearance of vegetation, and -a little branch was brought me here as a comfort and curiosity. A -few roots of dry grass, blown by the winds towards the travellers, -were eagerly seized on by the Arabs, with cries of joy, for their -hungry camels. Soon after the sun had retired behind the hills to the -west, we descended into a wadey, where about a dozen stunted bushes, -not trees, of palm marked the spot where water was to be found. The -wells were so choked up with sand, that several cart-loads of it -were removed previous to finding sufficient water; and even then the -animals could not drink till nearly ten at night.” - -[Illustration: Camp] - -Nor was it merely the horrors of the climate which these intrepid -travellers had to encounter. Their visitation of various savage -tribes drew them into the circle of barbarous quarrels. The peril -incurred by Major Denham, while accompanying the Bornou warriors in -their expedition against the Felatahs, is unsurpassed for interest -in any book of travels. “My horse was badly wounded in the neck, -just above the shoulder, and in the near hind leg,” says the Major, -describing what had befallen himself and steed in the encounter; -“an arrow had struck me in the face as it passed, merely drawing -the blood. If either of my horse’s wounds had been from poisoned -arrows I felt that nothing could save me [The tribe he accompanied -had been worsted.] However, there was not much time for reflection; -we instantly became a flying mass, and plunged, in the greatest -disorder, into that wood we had but a few hours before moved through -with order, and very different feelings. The spur had the effect of -incapacitating my beast altogether, as the arrow, I found afterwards, -had reached the shoulder-bone, and in passing over some rough ground -he stumbled and fell. Almost before I was on my legs the Felatahs -were upon me; I had, however, kept hold of the bridle, and, seizing -a pistol from the holsters, I presented it at two of these ferocious -savages, who were pressing me with their spears: they instantly -went off; but another, who came on me more boldly, just as I was -endeavouring to mount, received the contents somewhere in his left -shoulder, and again I was enabled to place my foot in the stirrup. -Re-mounted, I again pushed my retreat; I had not, however, proceeded -many hundred yards when my horse came down again, with such violence -as to throw me against a tree at a considerable distance; and, -alarmed at the horses behind, he quickly got up and escaped, leaving -me on foot and unarmed. A chief and his four followers were here -butchered and stripped; their cries were dreadful, and even now the -feelings of that moment are fresh in my memory; my hopes of life were -too faint to deserve the name. I was almost instantly surrounded, and -incapable of making the least resistance, as I was unarmed. I was -as speedily stripped; and, whilst attempting first to save my shirt -and then my trousers, I was thrown on the ground. My pursuers made -several thrusts at me with their spears, that badly wounded my hands -in two places, and slightly my body, just under my ribs, on the right -side; indeed I saw nothing before me but the same cruel death I had -seen unmercifully inflicted on the few who had fallen into the power -of those who now had possession of me. My shirt was now absolutely -torn off my back, and I was left perfectly naked. - -[Illustration: Battle] - -“When my plunderers began to quarrel for the spoil, the idea of -escape came like lightning across my mind, and, without a moment’s -hesitation or reflection, I crept under the belly of the horse -nearest me, and started as fast as my legs could carry me for the -thickest part of the wood. Two of the Felatahs followed, and I ran -on to the eastward, knowing that our stragglers would be in that -direction, but still almost as much afraid of friends as of foes. My -pursuers gained on me, for the prickly underwood not only obstructed -my passage but tore my flesh miserably; and the delight with which I -saw a mountain-stream gliding along at the bottom of a deep ravine -cannot be imagined. My strength had almost left me, and I seized the -young branches issuing from the stump of a large tree which overhung -the ravine, for the purpose of letting myself down into the water, -as the sides were precipitous, when, under my hand, as the branch -yielded to the weight of my body, a large _liffa_, the worst kind -of serpent this country produces, rose from its coil, as if in the -act of striking. I was horror-stricken, and deprived for a moment -of all recollection; the branch slipped from my hand, and I tumbled -headlong into the water beneath; this shock, however, revived me, and -with three strokes of my arms I reached the opposite bank, which with -difficulty I crawled up, and then, for the first time, felt myself -safe from my pursuers. - -“Scarcely had I audibly congratulated myself on my escape, when the -forlorn and wretched situation in which I was, without even a rag -to cover me, flashed with all its force upon my imagination. I was -perfectly collected, though fully alive to all the danger to which -my state exposed me, and had already began to plan my night’s rest -in the top of one of the tamarind trees, in order to escape the -panthers, which, as I had seen, abounded in these woods, when the -idea of the _liffas_, almost as numerous and equally to be dreaded, -excited a shudder of despair. - -“I now saw horsemen through the trees, still farther to the east, and -determined on reaching them if possible, whether friends or enemies. -They were friends. I hailed them with all my might; but the noise -and confusion which prevailed, from the cries of those who were -falling under the Felatah spears, the cheers of the Arabs rallying -and their enemies pursuing, would have drowned all attempts to make -myself heard, had not the sheikh’s negro seen and known me at a -distance. To this man I was indebted for my second escape: riding up -to me, he assisted me to mount behind him, while the arrows whistled -over our heads, and we then galloped off to the rear as fast as his -wounded horse could carry us. After we had gone a mile or two, and -the pursuit had cooled, I was covered with a bornouse; this was a -most welcome relief, for the burning sun had already begun to blister -my neck and back, and gave me the greatest pain; and had we not -soon arrived at water I do not think it possible that I could have -supported the thirst by which I was being consumed.” - -The exciting narrative of travel in the central regions of Africa the -young reader may pursue in various volumes, from those describing -the adventures of Leo Africanus, in 1513, to the narrative of the -intrepid career of Mungo Park, in 1796. From the dangers of travel in -the torrid zone the spirit of contrast would direct us to a glance at -the perils of adventure in the arctic. Here a pile of books written -by men of science await us; but, unfortunately, many of them, like -the volumes of Maupertuis and Pallas, though rich in details of -natural philosophy or natural history, possess little interest as -narratives of adventure. Their authors had little or none of the -true heroic spirit of the man of enterprise, who never courts ease -when the way of danger is the real path to entire knowledge. The -spirit of Dr. Edward Daniel Clarke marks more accurately the proper -constitution of the traveller united with the tendencies of the man -of science. He had resolved to attempt reaching the North Pole; but -having arrived at Enontakis, in latitude 68 degrees, 30 min., 30 -sec., N., he was seized with illness, and obliged to return to the -south. He thus writes to his mother, from Enontakis:— - -“We have found the cottage of a priest in this remote corner of the -world, and have been snug with him a few days. Yesterday I launched -a balloon, eighteen feet in height, which I had made to attract the -natives. You may guess their astonishment when they saw it rise from -the earth. Is it not famous to be here within the frigid zone, more -than two degrees within the arctic, and nearer to the pole than the -most northern shores of Iceland? For a long time darkness has been a -stranger to us. The sun, as yet, passes not below the horizon, but he -dips his crimson visage behind a mountain to the north. This mountain -we ascended, and had the satisfaction to see him make his courtesy -without setting. At midnight the priest of this place lights his -pipe, during three weeks of the year, by means of a burning-glass, -from the sun’s rays.” - -Of all travellers in the northern regions, though not the most -intellectual, the hardiest and most adventurous is Captain Cochrane. -He had originally intended to devote himself to African discovery, -conceiving himself competent for that arduous undertaking, by -experience of the fatigues he had borne in laborious pedestrian -journeys through France, Spain, and Portugal, and in Canada. “The -plan I proposed to follow,” says he, “was nearly that adopted -by Mungo Park, in his first journey—intending to proceed alone, -and requiring only to be furnished with the countenance of some -constituent part of the government. With this protection, and such -recommendation as it would procure me, I would have accompanied -the caravans in some servile capacity, nor hesitated even to sell -myself as a slave, if that miserable alternative were necessary, -to accomplish the object I had in view. In going alone, I relied -upon my own individual exertions and knowledge of man, unfettered -by the frailties and misconduct of others. I was then, as now, -convinced that many people travelling together for the purpose of -exploring a barbarous country, have the less chance of succeeding; -more especially when they go armed, and take with them presents of -value. The appearance of numbers must naturally excite the natives to -resistance, from motives of jealousy or fear; and the danger would be -greatly increased by the hope of plunder.” - -The answer he received from the Admiralty being unfavourable, and -thinking that a young commander was not likely to be employed in -active service, he planned for himself a journey on foot round the -globe, as nearly as it could be accomplished by land, intending to -cross from northern Asia to America at Behring’s Straits. Captain -Cochrane did not realise his first intent, but he tracked the -breadth of the entire continent of Asia to Kamtschatka. Hazards and -dangers befel him frequently in this enterprise; but he pursued it -undauntedly. His perils commenced when he had left St. Petersburg but -a few days, and had not reached Novogorod. - -“From Tosna my route was towards Linbane,” says our adventurer, “at -about the ninth milestone from which I sat down, to smoke a cigar or -pipe, as fancy might dictate. I was suddenly seized from behind by -two ruffians, whose visages were as much concealed as the oddness -of their dress would permit. One of them, who held an iron bar in -his hand, dragged me by the collar towards the forest, while the -other, with a bayonetted musket, pushed me on in such a manner as to -make me move with more than ordinary celerity; a boy, auxiliary to -these vagabonds, was stationed on the roadside to keep a look-out. -We had got some sixty or eighty paces into the thickest part of -the forest, when I was desired to undress, and having stripped off -my trousers and jacket, then my shirt, and finally my shoes and -stockings, they proceeded to tie me to a tree. From this ceremony, -and from the manner of it, I fully concluded that they intended to -try the effect of a musket upon me, by firing at me as they would -at a mark. I was, however, reserved for fresh scenes; the villains, -with much _sang froid_, seated themselves at my feet, and rifled my -knapsack and pockets, even cutting out the linings of the clothes -in search of bank bills or some other valuable articles. They then -compelled me to take at least a pound of black bread, and a glass -of rum, poured from a small flask which had been suspended from my -neck. Having appropriated my trousers, shirts, stockings, and shoes, -as also my spectacles, watch, compass, thermometer, and small pocket -sextant, with one hundred and sixty roubles (about seven pounds), -they at length released me from the tree, and, at the point of a -stiletto, made me swear that I would not inform against them—such, at -least, I conjectured to be their meaning, though of their language -I understood not a word. Having received my promise, I was again -treated by them to bread and rum, and once more fastened to the tree, -in which condition they finally abandoned me. Not long after, a boy -who was passing heard my cries, and set me at liberty. With the -remnant of my apparel, I rigged myself in Scotch Highland fashion, -and resumed my route. I had still left me a blue jacket, a flannel -waistcoat, and a spare one, which I tied round my waist in such a -manner that it reached down to the knees; my empty knapsack was -restored to its old place, and I trotted on with even a merry heart.” - -He comes up with a file of soldiers in the course of a few miles and -is relieved with some food, but declines the offer of clothes. A -carriage is also offered to convey him to the next military station. -“But I soon discovered,” he continues, “that riding was too cold, -and therefore preferred walking, barefooted as I was; and on the -following morning I reached Tschduvo, one hundred miles from St. -Petersburg.” At Novogorod he is further relieved by the governor, and -accepts from him a shirt and trousers. - -He reaches Moscow without a renewal of danger, and thence Vladimir -and Pogost. In the latter town he cheerfully makes his bed in a style -that shows he possessed the spirit of an adventurer in perfection. -“Being too jaded to proceed farther,” are his words, “I thought -myself fortunate in being able to pass the night in a _cask_. Nor -did I think this mode of passing the night a novel one. Often, very -often, have I, in the fastnesses of Spain and Portugal, reposed in -similar style.” He even selects exposure to the open air for sleep -when it is in his power to accept indulgence. “Arrived at Nishney -Novogorod, the Baron Bode,” says he, “received me kindly, placing me -for board in his own house; while for lodging I preferred the open -air of his garden: there, with my knapsack for a pillow, I passed -the night more pleasantly than I should have done on a bed of down, -which the baron pressed me most sincerely to accept.” A man who thus -hardened himself against indulgence could scarcely dread any of the -hardships so inevitable in the hazardous course he had marked out for -himself. - -Accordingly, we find him exciting the wonder of the natives by his -hardihood, in the very heart of Siberia. “At Irkutsk,” is his own -relation, “in the month of January, with forty degrees of Reaumur, I -have gone about, late and early, either for exercise or amusement, to -balls or dinners, yet did I never use any other kind of clothing than -I do now in the streets of London. Thus my readers must not suppose -my situation to have been so desperate. It is true, the natives felt -surprised, and pitied my apparently forlorn and hopeless situation, -not seeming to consider that, when the mind and body are in constant -motion, the elements can have little effect upon the person. I feel -confident that most of the miseries of human life are brought about -by want of a solid education—of firm reliance on a bountiful and -ever-attendant Providence—of a spirit of perseverance—of patience -under fatigue and privations, and a resolute determination to hold -to the point of duty, never to shrink while life retains a spark, -or while ‘a shot is in the locker,’ as sailors say. Often, indeed, -have I felt myself in difficult and trying circumstances, from -cold, or hunger, or fatigue; but I may affirm, with gratitude, that -I have never felt happier than even in the encountering of these -difficulties.” He remarks, soon afterwards, that he has never seen -his constitution equalled; but the young reader will remember that -the undaunted adventurer has strikingly shown us how this excellent -constitution was preserved from injury by shunning effeminacy. - -Yet our traveller’s superlative constitution is severely tested when -he reaches the country of the Yakuti, a tribe of Siberian Tartars. -He crosses a mountain range, and halts, with the attendants he has -now found the means to engage, for the night, at the foot of an -elevation, somewhat sheltered from the cold north wind. “The first -thing on my arrival,” he relates, “was to unload the horses, loosen -their saddles or pads, take the bridles out of their mouths, and -tie them to a tree in such a manner that they could not eat. The -Yakuti then with their axes proceeded to fell timber, while I and the -Cossack, with our lopatkas or wooden spades, cleared away the snow, -which was generally a couple of feet deep. We then spread branches of -the pine tree, to fortify us from the damp or cold earth beneath us; -a good fire was now soon made, and each bringing a leathern bag from -the baggage furnished himself with a seat. We then put the kettle on -the fire, and soon forgot the sufferings of the day. At times the -weather was so cold that we were obliged to creep almost into the -fire; and as I was much worse off than the rest of the party for warm -clothing, I had recourse to every stratagem I could devise to keep -my blood in circulation. It was barely possible to keep one side of -the body from freezing, while the other might be said to be roasting. -Upon the whole, I passed the night tolerably well, although I was -obliged to get up five or six times to take a walk or run, for the -benefit of my feet. The following day, at thirty miles, we again -halted in the snow, when I made a horse-shoe fire, which I found had -the effect of keeping every part of me alike warm, and I actually -slept well without any other covering than my clothes thrown over me; -whereas, before, I had only the consolation of knowing that if I was -in a freezing state with one half of my body, the other was meanwhile -roasting to make amends.” - -Captain Cochrane’s constitution had so much of the power of -adaptation to circumstances, that he was enabled to make a meal even -with the savagest tribes. A deer had been shot, and the Yakuti began -to eat it uncooked! “Of course,” says he, “I had the most luxurious -part presented to me, being the marrow of the fore-legs. I did not -find it disagreeable, though eaten raw and warm from life; in a -frozen state I should consider it a great delicacy. The animal was -the size of a good calf, weighing about two hundred pounds. Such a -quantity of meat may serve four or five good Yakuti for a single -meal, with whom it is ever famine or feast, gluttony or starvation.” - -The captain’s account of the feeding powers of the Yakuti surpasses, -indeed, anything to be found in the narratives of travellers which -are proverbial for wonder. “At Tabalak I had a pretty good specimen,” -he continues, “of the appetite of a child, whose age could not exceed -five years. I had observed it crawling on the floor, and scraping up -with its thumb the tallow-grease which fell from a lighted candle, -and I inquired in surprise whether it proceeded from hunger or liking -of the fat. I was told from neither, but simply from the habit in -both Yakuti and Tungousi of eating wherever there is food, and never -permitting anything that can be eaten to be lost. I gave the child -a candle made of the most impure tallow, a second, and a third—and -all were devoured with avidity. The steersman then gave him several -pounds of sour frozen butter; this also he immediately consumed. -Lastly, a large piece of yellow soap—all went the same road; but as -I was convinced that the child would continue to gorge as long as -it could receive anything, I begged my companion to desist as I had -done. As to the statement of what a man can or will eat, either as -to quality or quantity, I am afraid it would be quite incredible. -In fact, there is nothing in the way of fish or meat, from whatever -animal, however putrid or unwholesome, but they will devour with -impunity; and the quantity only varies from what they have to what -they can get. I have repeatedly seen a Yakut or a Tungouse devour -forty pounds of meat in a day. The effects are very observable -upon them, for, from thin and meagre-looking men, they will become -perfectly pot-bellied. I have seen three of these gluttons consume a -reindeer at one meal.” - -These doings of the Siberian Tartars, our young readers will have -rightly judged, however, are not among the most praiseworthy or -dignified of the “Triumphs of Enterprise;” and we turn, with a sense -of relief, to other scenes of adventure. - -The grand mountain range of the Andes, or Cordilleras, with its -rugged and barren peaks and volcanoes, and destitution of human -habitants, sometimes for scores of miles in the traveller’s route, -has afforded a striking theme for many writers of their own -adventures in South America. Mr. Temple, a traveller in 1825, affords -us some exciting views of the perils of his journey from Peru to -Buenos Ayres. - -In the afternoon of one of these perilous days he had to ascend and -descend the highest mountain he had ever yet crossed. After winding -for more than two hours up its rugged side, and precisely in the -most terrifying spot, the baggage-mule, which was in front, suddenly -stopped. “And well it might, poor little wretch, after scrambling -with its burden up such fatiguing flights of craggy steps!” exclaims -this benevolent-minded traveller; “the narrowness of the path at -this spot did not allow room to approach the animal to unload and -give it rest. On one side was the solid rock, which drooped over our -heads in a half-arch; on the other, a frightful abyss, of not less -than two hundred feet perpendicular. Patience was, indeed, requisite -here, but the apprehension was, that some traveller or courier might -come in the contrary direction, and, as the sun was setting, the -consequences could not fail of proving disastrous to either party. At -one time, I held a council to deliberate on the prudence of freeing -the passage by shooting the mule, and letting it roll, baggage and -all, to the bottom. In this I was opposed by the postilion, though -another as well as myself was of opinion that it was the only method -of rescuing us from our critical situation before nightfall. I never -felt so perplexed in my life. We were all useless, helpless, and -knew not what to do. After upwards of half an hour—or, apprehension -might add a few minutes to this dubious and truly nervous pause—the -mule, of its own accord, moved on slowly for about twenty yards, and -stopped again; then proceeded, then stopped; and thus, after two -hours’ further ascent, we gradually reached the summit. Two or three -times I wished, for safety’s sake, to alight, but actually I had not -room to do so upon the narrow edge of the tremendous precipice on my -left.” - -He was less fortunate in his return over the mountains of Tarija. -“Cruel was the sight,” says he, “to see us toiling up full fifteen -miles continued steep to the summit of the Cordillera, that here -forms a ridge round the south-western extremity of the province of -Tarija; but crueller by far to behold the wretched, wretched mule, -that slipped on the edge of the precipice, and—away! exhibiting ten -thousand summersaults, round, round, round! down, down, down! nine -hundred and ninety-nine thousand fathoms deep!—certainly not one yard -less, according to the scale by which I measured the chasm in my -wonder-struck imagination, while I stood in the stirrups straining -forward over the ears of my horse (which trembled with alarm), and -viewed the microscopic diminution of the mule, as it revolved with -accelerated motion to the bottom, carrying with it our whole grand -store of provision.” - -Here they were obliged to leave the poor animal to its fate, which -there was no doubt would be that of being devoured by condors. But a -far more serious accident befel Mr. Temple a few days after this. A -favourite horse that he had purchased on his journey to Potosi got -loose, and galloping off after a herd of his own species speedily -disappeared, and was never recovered. His apostrophe to this animal -is a specimen of fine benevolent sentiment. “My horse,” said I to -myself, “my best horse, my favourite horse, my companion, my friend, -for so long a time, on journeys of so many hundred miles, carrying -me up and down mountains, along the edge of precipices, across -rivers and torrents, where the safety of the rider so often depended -solely on the worthiness of the animal—to lose thee now in a moment -of so much need, in a manner so unexpected, and so provokingly -accidental, aggravated my loss. The constant care I took of thee -proves the value I set on thy merits. At the end of many a wearisome -journey, accommodation and comfort for thee were invariably my first -consideration, let mine be what they might. Not even the severity of -the past night could induce me to deprive thee of thy rug for my own -gratification. And must I now suddenly say farewell? Then farewell, -my trusty friend! A thousand dollars are in that portmanteau: had I -lost every one of them, they must, indeed, have occasioned regret; -but never could they have excited such a feeling of sorrow as thou -hast, my best, my favourite horse—farewell!” - -If we wished to depicture the earth as it must have appeared to -primeval travellers, Humboldt, the most sagacious of adventurers, -seems to assure us that South America approaches nearest to such a -picture. “In this part of the new continent,” he remarks, “surrounded -by dense forests of boundless extent, we almost accustomed ourselves -to regard men as not being essential to the order of nature. -The earth is loaded with plants, and nothing impedes their free -development. An immense layer of mould manifests the uninterrupted -action of organic powers. The crocodiles and the boas are masters -of the river; the jaguar, the pecari, the dante, and the monkeys -traverse the forest without fear and without danger: there they dwell -as in an ancient inheritance. This aspect of animated nature, in -which man is nothing, has something in it strange and sad. To this we -reconcile ourselves with difficulty on the ocean and amid the sands -of Africa, though in these scenes, where nothing recals to mind our -fields, our woods, and our streams, we are less astonished at the -vast solitude through which we pass. Here, in a fertile country, -adorned with eternal verdure, we seek in vain the traces of the power -of man; we seem to be transported into a world different from that -which gave us birth.” - -Of the suffering to be encountered by adventurers in these regions, -we are assured, however, by Humboldt, the chief source does not -consist in the presence of crocodiles or serpents, jaguars or -monkeys. The dread of these sinks into nothing when compared to the -_plaga de la moscas_—the torment of insects. “However accustomed,” -says Humboldt, “you may be to endure pain without complaint—however -lively an interest you may take in the object of your researches—it -is impossible not to be constantly disturbed by the musquetoes, -zaucudoes, jejeus, and tempraneroes that cover the face and hands, -pierce the clothes with their long sucker in the shape of a needle, -and getting into the mouth and nostrils set you coughing and sneezing -whenever you attempt to speak in the open air. I doubt whether there -be a country on earth where man is exposed to more cruel torments in -the rainy seasons, when the lower strata of the air to the height -of fifteen or twenty feet are filled with venomous insects like a -condensed vapour.” - -This terrific account of the American mosquito is confirmed by Mr. -Hood, one of the companions of Captain Franklin, in the intrepid -attempt to reach the North Pole by overland journey. “We had -sometimes procured a little rest,” he observes, “by closing the tent -and burning wood or flashing gunpowder within, the smoke driving -the musquitoes into the crannies of the ground. But this remedy -was now ineffectual, though we employed it so perseveringly as to -hazard suffocation. They swarmed under our blankets, goring us with -their envenomed trunks and steeping our clothes in blood. We rose -at daylight in a fever, and our misery was unmitigated during our -whole stay. The food of the mosquito is blood, which it can extract -by penetrating the hide of a buffalo; and if it is not disturbed -it gorges itself so as to swell its body into a transparent globe. -The wound does not swell, like that of the African mosquito, but it -is infinitely more painful; and when multiplied an hundred-fold, -and continued for so many successive days, it becomes an evil of -such magnitude that cold, famine, and every other concomitant of an -inhospitable climate, must yield pre-eminence to it. It chases the -buffalo to the plains, irritating him to madness; and the reindeer -to the sea-shore, from which they do not return till the scourge has -ceased.” - -Captain Back, whose Arctic Land Expedition has made his name -memorable, confirms these accounts. After describing the difficulties -of himself and party in dragging their baggage and provisions, and -even their canoe, up high, steep, and rugged ridges, over swamps of -thick stunted firs, and open spaces barren and desolate, on which -“crag was piled on crag to the height of two thousand feet from the -base,” he adds these descriptive sentences of the insect plague: “The -laborious duty which had been thus performed was rendered doubly -severe by the combined attack of myriads of sandflies and mosquitoes, -which made our faces stream with blood. There is certainly no form of -wretchedness among those to which the chequered life of a traveller -is exposed, at once so great and so humiliating, as the torture -inflicted by these puny blood-suckers. To avoid them is impossible; -and as for defending himself, though for a time he may go on crushing -by thousands, he cannot long maintain the unequal conflict, so that -at last, subdued by pain and fatigue, he throws himself in despair -with his face to the earth, and, half suffocated in his blanket, -groans away a few hours of sleepless rest.” - -The swarms of sandflies, called _brulots_ by the Canadians, it -appears by the following account of Captain Back, are as annoying -as the mosquitoes:—“As we dived into the confined and suffocating -chasms, or waded through the close swamps, they rose in clouds, -actually darkening the air. To see or speak was equally difficult, -for they rushed at every undefended part and fixed their poisonous -fangs in an instant. Our faces streamed with blood as if leeches had -been applied, and there was a burning and irritating pain, followed -by immediate inflammation, and producing giddiness which almost drove -us mad. Whenever we halted, which the nature of the country compelled -us to do often, the men—even the Indians—threw themselves on their -faces, and moaned with pain and agony. My arms being less encumbered -I defended myself in some degree by waving a branch in each hand; -but, even with this and the aid of a veil and stout leather gloves, I -did not escape without severe punishment. For the time I thought the -tiny plagues worse even than mosquitoes.” - -The ardour which can bear a man onward through difficulties and -annoyances of this nature is admirable; but love is united with our -admiration when Capt. Back gives the following testimony to the -benevolence of Sir John Franklin:— - -“It was the custom of Sir John Franklin never to kill a fly; and -though teased by them beyond expression, especially when engaged -in taking observations, he would quietly desist from his work and -patiently blow the half-gorged intruders from his hands—‘the world -was wide enough for both.’ This was jocosely remarked upon by -Akaitcho and the four or five Indians who accompanied him. But the -impression, it seems,” continues Captain Back, “had sunk deep, for -on Manfelly’s seeing me fill my tent with smoke, and then throw open -the front and beat the sides all round with leafy branches to drive -out the stupified pests before I went to rest, he could not refrain -from expressing his surprise that I should be so unlike ‘the old -chief,’ who would not destroy so much as a single mosquito.” So true -it is that the real hero, he for whom danger has no terrors, has the -kindest and gentlest nature! - -[Illustration: Ostrich] - - - - -CHAPTER III. - - -He who first committed himself to the perils of the great waters must -have been peculiarly distinguished among men for his intrepidity. -Modern adventure on the wide ocean, or in comparatively unknown -seas, is not accompanied with that uncertainty and sense of utter -desolation which must have filled the mind of early adventurers when -driven out of sight of land by the tempest; but neither the discovery -of the compass nor the many other aids to safety possessed by modern -navigators free their enterprises from appalling dangers. The -persevering courage of travellers evermore commands our admiration; -but the voyager takes his life in his hand from the moment that he -leaves the shore. The freedom from fear—nay, the cheerfulness and -exultation he experiences when surrounded by the waste of waters, -far away from the enjoyments of house and home; the unsubduable -resolution with which he careers over the wave and encounters every -vicissitude of season and climate; the strength and vastness of the -element itself which is the chief scene of his daring enterprise: -these are considerations that ever interweave themselves with our -ideal of the sea-adventurer, and render him the object of more -profound and ardent admiration than the mere traveller by land. - -To ourselves, as natives of a country whose greatness is owing to -commercial enterprise and superiority in the arts of navigation, -these remarks forcibly apply. Maritime discovery has been oftener, -much oftener, undertaken by England and Englishmen than by any other -country or people in the world. Many secondary reasons for this -might be alleged in addition to the primary one of discovery. Such -undertakings are the means of training our sailors to hardihood and -young officers to the most difficult and dangerous situations in -which a ship can be placed. They accustom the officers how to take -care of and to preserve the health of a ship’s company. They are -the means of solid instruction in the higher branches of nautical -science, and in the use of the various instruments which science has, -of late years especially, brought to such perfection. - -The career of the navigator thus assumes a higher character, being -that of a pioneer of science and corroborator of its discoveries, -than the employ or profession of any other man, however elevated -the station allotted him by society. Reflection will convince the -young reader that such men as Cook and Vancouver, Parry and Ross, -are much more deserving of triumphal monuments than martial heroes. -The dangers they encountered were fully as great, while the tendency -of their grand enterprises was not to inflict suffering on mankind -but to enlighten it with the knowledge of distant quarters of the -globe, and to bless and enrich it by the improvement of navigation -and commerce. For these reasons, the claim of the navigator to a -high rank in our brief chronicle of the “Triumphs of Enterprise” -would boldly assert itself, independent of the exciting nature of sea -adventures. - -Here is an hour of danger described by the heroic Ross, and occurring -in the month of August, 1818, during that intrepid commander’s search -for the long wished-for “North-West Passage.” “The two ships were -caught by a gale of wind among the ice, and fell foul of each other. -The ice-anchors and cables broke, one after another, and the sterns -of the two ships came so violently into contact as to crush to pieces -a boat that could not be removed in time. Neither the masters, the -mates, nor those men who had been all their lives in the Greenland -service, had ever experienced such imminent peril; and they declared -that a common whaler must have been crushed to atoms. Our safety -must, indeed, be attributed to the perfect and admirable manner -in which the vessels had been strengthened when fitting for the -service. But our troubles were not yet at an end; for, as the gale -increased, the ice began to move with greater velocity, while the -continued thick fall of snow kept from our sight the further danger -that awaited us, till it became imminent. A large field of ice was -soon discovered at a small distance, bearing fast down upon us from -the west, and it thus became necessary to saw docks for refuge, in -which service all hands were immediately employed. It was, however, -found to be too thick for our nine-feet saws, and no progress could -be made. This circumstance proved fortunate, for it was soon after -perceived that the field, to which we were moored for this purpose, -was drifting rapidly on a reef of icebergs which lay aground. The -topsails were therefore close-reefed, in order that we might run, as -a last resource, between two bergs, or into any creek that might be -found among them; when suddenly the field acquired a circular motion, -so that every exertion was now necessary for the purpose of warping -along the edge, that being the sole chance we had of escaping the -danger of being crushed on an iceberg. In a few minutes we observed -that part of the field into which we had attempted to cut our docks, -come in contact with the berg, with such rapidity and violence as -to rise more than fifty feet up its precipitous side, where it -suddenly broke, the elevated part falling back on the rest with a -terrible crash, and overwhelming with its ruins the very spot we had -previously chosen for our safety. Soon afterwards the ice appeared to -us sufficiently open for us to pass the reef of bergs, and we once -more found ourselves in a place of security.” - -The terrors of an iceberg scene are most graphically depicted by -Ross, in the account of his second voyage of discovery. “It is -unfortunate,” says he, “that no description can convey an idea of -a scene of this nature; and, as to pencil, it cannot represent -motion or noise. And to those who have not seen a northern ocean in -winter—who have not seen it, I should say, in a winter’s storm—the -term ice, exciting but the recollection of what they only know at -rest, in an inland lake or canal, conveys no ideas of what it is -the fate of an arctic navigator to witness and to feel. But let -them remember that ice is stone; a floating rock in the stream, -a promontory or an island when aground, not less solid than if it -were a land of granite. Then let them imagine, if they can, these -mountains of crystal hurled through a narrow strait by a rapid -tide; meeting, as mountains in motion would meet, with the noise of -thunder, breaking from each other’s precipices huge fragments, or -rending each other asunder, till, losing their former equilibrium, -they fall over headlong, lifting the sea around in breakers, and -whirling it in eddies; while the flatter fields of ice forced against -these masses, or against the rocks, by the wind and the stream, rise -out of the sea till they fall back on themselves, adding to the -indescribable commotion and noise which attend these occurrences.” - -How tremendous must be the sense of danger to the tenants of a frail -ship amidst such gigantic forces of nature, the most inexperienced -reader can form some conception. But, overwhelming as the feeling of -awe must be with the sailor surrounded with such terrors, it must -be infinitely more tolerable than the prolonged and indescribably -irksome heart-ache he experiences when inclosed for months in fixed -ice, encompassed on every hand with desolation. “He must be a -seaman,” says the same gallant adventurer, “to feel that the vessel -which bounds beneath him, which listens to and obeys the smallest -movement of his hand, which seems to move but under his will, is ‘a -thing of life,’ a mind conforming to his wishes: not an inert body, -the sport of winds and waves. But what seaman could feel this as we -did, when this creature, which used to carry us buoyantly over the -ocean, had been during an entire year immoveable as the ice and the -rocks around it, helpless, disobedient, dead? We were weary for want -of occupation, for want of variety, for want of the means of mental -exertion, for want of thought, and (why should I not say it?) for -want of society. To-day was as yesterday—and as was to-day, so would -be to-morrow: while, if there were no variety, no hope of better, -is it wonderful that even the visits of barbarians were welcome? or -can anything more strongly show the nature of our pleasures, than -the confession that these visits were delightful—even as the society -of London might be amid the business of London? When the winter has -once in reality set in, our minds become made up on the subject; -like the dormouse (though we may not sleep, which would be the most -desirable condition by far), we wrap ourselves up in a sort of furry -contentment, since better cannot be, and wait for the times to come: -it was a far other thing to be ever awake, waiting to rise and become -active, yet ever to find that all nature was still asleep, and that -we had nothing more to do than to wish and groan, and—hope as we best -might.” How truly poetical his description of human feeling amidst -the eternal appearance of ice and snow!—“When snow was our decks, -snow was our awnings, snow our observations, snow our larders, snow -our salt; and, when all the other uses of snow should be at last -of no more avail, our coffins and our graves were to be graves and -coffins of snow. Is this not more than enough of snow than suffices -for admiration? Is it not worse, that during ten months in a year the -ground is snow, and ice, and ‘slush;’ that during the whole year its -tormenting, chilling, odious presence is ever before the eye? Who -more than I has admired the glaciers of the extreme north? Who more -has loved to contemplate the icebergs sailing from the Pole before -the tide and the gale, floating along the ocean, through calm and -through storm, like castles and towers and mountains, gorgeous in -colouring, and magnificent, if often capricious, in form? And have -I, too, not sought amid the crashing, and the splitting, and the -thundering roarings of a sea of moving mountains, for the sublime, -and felt that Nature could do no more? In all this there has been -beauty, horror, danger, everything that could excite; they would have -excited a poet even to the verge of madness. But to see, to have -seen, ice and snow—to have felt snow and ice for ever, and nothing -for ever but snow and ice, during all the months of a year—to have -seen and felt but uninterrupted and unceasing ice and snow during all -the months of four years—this it is that has made the sight of those -most chilling and wearisome objects an evil which is still one in -recollection, as if the remembrance would never cease.” - -To bid farewell to his ship in these regions of deathly solitariness -must be a trial of the heart even severer than its sense of awe amid -icebergs, or wearisomeness with the eternal snow. This fell to the -lot of the brave Ross and his crew. Fast beset where there was no -prospect of release, they commenced carrying forwards a certain -quantity of provisions, and the boats with their sledges, for the -purpose of advancing more easily afterwards. The labour of proceeding -over ice and snow was most severe, and the wind and snow-drift -rendered it almost intolerable. On the 21st of May, 1832 (for this -was during Sir John Ross’s _second_ voyage) all the provisions from -their ship, the Victory, had been carried forward to the several -deposits, except as much as would serve for about a month. In -the process of forming these deposits it was found that they had -travelled, forwards and backwards, three hundred and twenty-nine -miles to gain about thirty in a direct line. Preparation was now made -for their final departure, which took place on the 29th of May. - -“We had now,” continues the commander, “secured everything on shore -which could be of use to us in case of our return; or which, if -we could not, would prove of use to the natives. The colours were -therefore hoisted and nailed to the mast, we drank a parting glass -to our poor ship, and having seen every man out, in the evening I -took my own adieu of the Victory, which had deserved a better fate. -It was the first vessel that I had ever been obliged to abandon, -after having served in thirty-six, during a period of forty-two -years. It was like the last parting with an old friend; and I did not -pass the point where she ceased to be visible without stopping to -take a sketch of this melancholy desert—rendered more melancholy by -the solitary, abandoned, helpless home of our past years, fixed in -immovable ice till Time should perform on her his usual work.” - -After a full month’s most fatiguing journey, they encamped and -constructed a canvass-covered house. This they deserted, and set out -once more, but, after several weeks’ vain attempt to reach navigable -water, were compelled to return, “their labours at an end, and -themselves once more at home.” Here—of the provisions left behind -them—flour, sugar, soups, peas, vegetables, pickles, and lemon-juice, -were in abundance; but of preserved meats there remained not more -than would suffice for their voyage in the boats during the next -season. A monotonous winter was spent in their house; and the want of -exercise, of sufficient employment, short allowance of food, lowness -of spirits produced by the unbroken sight of the dull, melancholy, -uniform waste of snow and ice, had the effect of reducing the whole -party to a more indifferent state of health than had hitherto been -experienced. - -“We were indeed all very weary of this miserable home,” says Sir John -Ross. “Even the storms were without variety: there was nothing to -see out of doors, even when we could face the sky; and within it was -to look equally for variety and employment and to find neither. If -those of the least active minds dozed away their time in the waking -stupefaction which such a state of things produces, they were the -most fortunate of the party. Those among us who had the enviable -talent of sleeping at all times, whether they were anxious or not, -fared best.” - -At length the long-looked-for period arrived when it was deemed -necessary to abandon the house in search of better fortune; and on -the 7th of July, being Sunday, the last divine service was performed -in their winter habitation. The following day they bid adieu to it -for ever! and having been detained a short time at Batty Bay, and -finding the ice to separate and a lane of water to open out, they -succeeded in crossing over to the eastern side of Prince Regent -Inlet. Standing along the southern shore of Barrow’s Strait, on the -26th of August they discovered a sail, and, after some tantalizing -delays, they succeeded in making themselves visible to the crew of -one of her boats. - -“She was soon alongside,” proceeds Sir John Ross, “when the mate -in command addressed us, by presuming that we had met with some -misfortune and lost our ship. This being answered in the affirmative, -I requested to know the name of his vessel, and expressed our wish -to be taken on board. I was answered that it was the ‘Isabella of -Hull, once commanded by Captain Ross;’ on which I stated that I was -the identical man in question, and my people the crew of the Victory. -That the mate who commanded this boat was as much astonished at -this information as he appeared to be I do not doubt; while, with -the usual blunderheadedness of men on such occasions, he assured me -that I had been dead two years! I easily convinced him, however, -that what ought to have been true, according to his estimate, was a -somewhat premature conclusion, as the bear-like form of the whole -set of us might have shown him had he taken time to consider that we -were certainly not whaling gentlemen, and that we carried tolerable -evidence of our being ‘true men, and no impostors’ on our backs, and -in our starved and unshaven countenances. A hearty congratulation -followed, of course, in the true seaman style, and after a few -natural inquiries he added that the ‘Isabella was commanded by -Captain Humphreys,’ when he immediately went off in his boat to -communicate his information on board, repeating that we had long been -given up as lost, not by them alone, but by all England. - -“As we approached slowly after him to the ship, he jumped up the -side, and in a minute the rigging was manned, while we were saluted -with three cheers as we came within cable’s length, and were not long -in getting on board of my old vessel, where we were all received by -Captain Humphreys with a hearty seaman’s welcome. - -“Though we had not been supported by our names and characters, we -should not the less have claimed, from charity, the attentions that -we received, for never was seen a more miserable-looking set of -wretches; while, that we were but a repulsive-looking people, none -of us could doubt. If to be poor, wretchedly poor, as far as all -our present property was concerned, was to have a claim on charity, -no one could well deserve it more; but if to look so as to frighten -away the so-called charitable, no beggar that wanders in Ireland -could have outdone us in exciting the repugnance of those who have -not known what poverty can be. Unshaven since I know not when, -dirty, dressed in the rags of wild beasts instead of the tatters -of civilization, and starved to the very bones, our gaunt and grim -looks, when contrasted with those of the well-dressed and well-fed -men around us, made us all feel, I believe for the first time, -what we really were as well as what we seemed to others. Poverty is -without half its mark unless it be contrasted with wealth; and what -we might have known to be true in the past days, we had forgotten to -think of till we were thus reminded of what we truly were as well as -seemed to be. - -“But the ludicrous soon took place of all other feelings; in such a -crowd and such confusion all serious thought was impossible, while -the new buoyancy of our spirits made us abundantly willing to be -amused by the scene which now opened. Every man was hungry and was -to be fed, all were ragged and were to be clothed, there was not -one to whom washing was not indispensable, nor one whom his beard -did not deprive of all English semblance. All, everything, too, was -to be done at once; it was washing, dressing, shaving, eating, all -intermingled; it was all the materials of each jumbled together; -while, in the midst of all, there were interminable questions to be -asked and answered on all sides: the adventures of the Victory, our -own escapes, the politics of England, and the news which was now -four years old. But all subsided into peace at last. The sick were -accommodated, the seamen disposed of, and all was done for all of -us which care and kindness could perform. Night at length brought -quiet and serious thoughts, and I trust there was not one man among -us who did not then express, where it was due, his gratitude for -that interposition which had raised us all from a despair which none -could now forget, and had brought us from the very borders of a not -distant grave to life, and friends, and civilization. - -“Long accustomed, however, to a cold bed on the hard snow or the bare -rock, few could sleep amid the comfort of our new accommodations. I -was myself compelled to leave the bed which had been kindly assigned -me and take my abode in a chair for the night, nor did it fare much -better with the rest. It was for time to reconcile us to this sudden -and violent change, to break through what had become habit, and to -inure us once more to the usages of our former days.” - -As a curious contrast to these exciting descriptions of danger, -we will sketch in as compact a form as possible the first voyage -round the world performed by an Englishman—namely, our illustrious -countryman, Sir Francis Drake. - -Queen Elizabeth, on presenting a sword to the commander of a secret -expedition, said, “We do account that he which striketh at thee, -Drake, striketh at us.” His fleet consisted of five ships—the -Pelican, of 120 tons burthen; the Elizabeth, a bark of 80 tons; the -Swan, a fly-boat of 50 tons; the Marygold, a barque of 30 tons, and -the Christopher, a pinnace of 15 tons, and was ostensibly fitted out -for a trading voyage to Alexandria, though this pretence did not -deceive the watchful Spaniards. Drake, like Columbus and Cook, chose -small ships as better fitted to thread narrow and difficult channels. -The crews of his little squadron amounted to one hundred and sixty -men; an old author says that he did not omit “provision for ornament -and delight, carrying with him expert musicians, rich furniture (all -the vessels for his table, yea, many belonging to his cook-room, -being of pure silver), with divers shows of all sorts of curious -workmanship whereby the civility and magnificence of his native -country might, among all nations whither he should come, be the more -admired.” - -Although it is likely that the intrepid resolve of crossing the -Pacific Ocean was not originally formed by Drake, and only entered -into from circumstances in which he was afterwards placed, he is not -the less entitled to the praise so often given him for penetrating -with so small a force the channel explored by Magellan and known by -his name. The passage through the Straits of Magellan had long been -abandoned by the Spaniards, and a superstition had arisen against -adventuring into the Pacific, as likely to prove fatal to any who are -engaged in the discovery or even in the navigation of its waters. - -Drake was at first driven back by a violent storm; but, unintimidated -by this adverse augury, he finally set sail from Plymouth on the -13th of December, 1577. On Christmas-day they reached Cape Cantin, -on the coast of Barbary, and on the 27th found a safe and commodious -harbour in Mogadore. Here Drake had some unpleasant transactions with -Muley Moloc, the celebrated king of the Moors, but sailed again on -the last day of the year. The less important places touched at in the -succeeding part of the voyage were Cape Blanco, the isles of Mayo and -San Jago, and the “Isla del Fogo,” or Burning Island, together with -“Ilba Brava,” or the Brave Island. The equinoctial line is afterwards -crossed amidst alternate calms and tempest; they are supplied with -fresh water by copious rains, and they also catch dolphins, bonitos, -and flying-fish which fell on the decks, “where hence,” says the -invaluable Hakluyt, “they could not rise againe for want of moisture, -for when their wings are drie they cannot flie.” At length, on the -5th of April, they had fully voyaged across the wide Atlantic, and -made the coast of Brazil in 31° 30´ south latitude. They saw the -natives raising fires on the shore, beheld troops of wild deer, -“large and mightie,” and saw the foot-prints of men of large stature -on the beach. On the 15th of the same month they anchored in the -great River Plate, where they killed “certaine sea-wolves, commonly -called seales.” They thus secured a new supply of fresh provisions, -and shortly after of fresh water. - -[Illustration: Seals] - -On the 27th they again stood out to sea, and steered southward. The -Swan was outsailed by the rest of the little fleet, and also the -Mary, a very small Portuguese vessel, or caunter, which they had -taken in their course. On the 12th of May, Drake anchored within view -of a headland, and the next morning went in a boat to the shore. Here -he was in some danger, for a thick fog came on and shut him from the -view of the vessels; a gale also arose and drove them out to sea. -Fires were at length lighted, all the vessels, save the Swan and the -Mary, were again collected together. Fifty dried ostriches, besides -other fowls, are related to have been here found deposited by the -savages, and of this store the ships’ crews took possession. Upwards -of two hundred seals were also taken and slaughtered; and while a -party was filling water-casks, killing seals, and salting fowls for -future provision, Drake himself set sail in the Pelican, and Captain -Winter in the Elizabeth, each on different tacks, in search of the -Swan and the Mary. Drake soon found the Swan, and, to diminish the -cares and hazards of the voyage, removed all her stores and then -broke her up for firewood. - -The place of rendezvous was named Seal Bay, and some highly -interesting accounts of interviews with the savage native tribes -during their stay here are given in Hakluyt. On the 3rd of June they -set sail once more; on the 19th they found the missing Portuguese -prize, the Mary; and the next day the whole squadron moored in Port -San Julian, latitude 49° 30´ S. - -A very perilous squabble took place here with the native -Patagonians. A gunner belonging to the crew was shot through with -an arrow, and died on the spot, and Robert Winter, relative of -the officer above mentioned, was wounded, and died in consequence -shortly afterwards. The stature of these tribes has been the subject -of dispute from the time of Magellan to our own. An old author in -Hakluyt says, “These men be of no such stature as the Spaniardes -report, being but of the height of Englishmen: for I have seene men -in England taller than I could see any of them. But peradventure the -Spaniard did not thinke that any Englishman would have come thither -so soone to have disproved them in this and divers others of their -notorious lies.” Another author, however, makes the Patagonians seven -feet and a half in height. - -An event occurred while the fleet lay at Port San Julian, which has -cast a deep shade of suspicion over the character of Drake. This was -the execution of Thomas Doughty, accused of mutiny and a conspiracy -to massacre Drake and the principal officers. We leave the young -reader to investigate the matter in other works, and proceed with our -abridged narrative. - -After breaking up the Portuguese prize and reducing the number of -ships to three, they again set sail on the 17th of August—the weather -being colder than midwinter in Britain—and on the 24th anchored -thirty leagues within the Strait of Magellan. Here Drake changed the -name of his ship, the Pelican, to the Golden Hind, in compliment to -his friend, Sir Christopher Hatton, in whose escutcheon the golden -hind is said to have had a place. While passing through the strait, -which they computed to be 110 leagues in length, they noted that the -width varied from one league to four; that the tide set in from each -end of the strait and met about the middle; and they also killed 3000 -“of birds having no wings, but short pineons which serve their turne -in swimming.” These penguins, as they undoubtedly were, are also -described as being “fat as an English goose.” - -On the 6th of September, 1578, Drake and his gallant crew sailed -their ships on the great Pacific. Magellan had passed through the -strait in 1520, and but two other voyagers had performed the passage -after Magellan, and before Drake. - -A north-east passage was one main object contemplated by Drake; and -accordingly, on clearing the strait, he held a north-west course, and -in two days the fleet advanced seventy leagues. A violent gale from -the north-east now drove them into 57° south latitude and 200 leagues -to the west. Under bare poles they scudded before the tempest, and -observed an eclipse of the moon on the 15th of September; “but,” -says a narrator, in Hakluyt, “neyther did the eclipticall conflict -of the moon impayre our state, nor her clearing againe amend us a -whit, but the accustomed eclipse of the sea continued in his force, -wee being darkened more than the moone sevenfold.” After a short -season of moderate weather, another tempest separated from them the -ship Marygold, and she was never more heard of. The Golden Hind and -Elizabeth were now left to pursue the voyage; but on being driven -back to the western entrance of the strait, Winter, the commander -of the Elizabeth, heartily tired of the voyage, slipped away from -Drake and returned to England. He reached this country in June, 1579, -with the credit of having achieved the navigation of the Straits of -Magellan, but with the shame of having deserted his commander. - -The gallant Drake in the Golden Hind had stormy weather to encounter -for some time after, and was driven so far south as to anchor in a -creek at Cape Horn, and thus became the discoverer of that southern -point of the entire continent of America. - -The wind changing he steered northwards, and on the 25th of November, -1578, anchored near the coast of Chili, where he had another -collision with the natives and lost two of his men. Soon afterwards -they fell in with a people of more friendly manners, and learned that -they had oversailed Valparaiso, the port of San Jago, where a Spanish -ship lay at anchor. They put back and took the ship, called the Grand -Captain of the South, in which were 60,000 pesos of gold, besides -jewels, merchandise, and a good store of Chili wine. Each peso was -valued at eight shillings. They rejoiced over their plunder; but in -our own times such an act would be deemed a piracy. Nine families -inhabited Valparaiso, but they fled, and the English revelled in -the pillage of wine, bread, bacon, and other luxuries to men long -accustomed to hard fare. They plundered the church also of a silver -chalice, two cruets, and an altar-cloth, and presented them to the -chaplain of the vessel. - -On the 19th of January, 1579, after some period of rest in a harbour, -they pursued their voyage along the coast, and accidentally landing -at Tarapaza, they found a Spaniard asleep on the shore with thirteen -bars of silver lying beside him. “We took the silver and left the -man,” says the relator. A little farther on a party which was sent -ashore to procure water fell in with a Spaniard and a native boy -driving eight llamas, each of which was laden with two leathern bags -containing fifty pounds of silver, or eight hundred in all. They not -only took on board the llamas and the silver, but soon after fell in -with three small barks quite empty (the crews being on shore), save -that they found in them fifty-seven wedges of silver, each weighing -twenty pounds. They took the silver and set the barks adrift. After -some other trifling adventures they learned that the Cacafuego, a -ship laden with gold and silver, had just sailed for Panama, the -point whence all goods were carried by the Spaniards across the -isthmus. Away they bore in search of this ship, but were near being -overtaken by a superior force of Spaniards in two ships. Escaping, -they passed Payta, and learned that the Cacafuego had the start of -them but two days. Two other vessels were next taken, with some -silver, eighty pounds of gold, and a golden crucifix “with goodly -great emerauds set in it.” The Cacafuego was at length overtaken and -captured: the ship contained twenty-six tons of silver, thirteen -chests of rials of plate, and eighty pounds of gold, besides diamonds -and inferior gems, the whole estimated at 360,000 pesos. The uncoined -silver alone found in the vessel may be estimated at 212,000_l._, at -five shillings an ounce. - -It seems questionable whether, when thus richly laden, Drake would -have thought of encompassing the globe if he could have assured -himself of a safe voyage to England by returning through the Straits -of Magellan. He knew that the Spaniards would be on the alert to -recover the treasure, and so resolved to seek a north-east passage -homeward. After remaining a short time in a safe harbour to repair -the ship, he commenced the voyage once more. Delays were made for -plunder and prizetaking until the 26th of April, when Drake stood -boldly out to sea, and by the 3rd of June had sailed 1400 leagues -on different courses without seeing land. He had now reached 42° -north latitude, and the cold was felt severely. On the 5th, being -driven by a gale, land was seen, to the surprise of Drake, who had -not calculated that the continent stretched so far westward. The -adventurers were now coasting the western margin of California. - -They anchored at length in 38° 30´ north latitude, and were soon -surrounded with native Indians, who, among other remarkable things, -offered them _tabah_, or tobacco. Drake spent thirty-six days here -for completing the repairs of his ship, took possession of the -country formally, by erecting a monument and fixing a brass plate -upon it, bearing the name, effigy, and arms of Queen Elizabeth, and -called the country New Albion. To the port in which they had anchored -he gave his own name, and on the 23rd of July bore away direct west -as possible across the Pacific, with the intent to reach England by -India and the Cape of Good Hope. - -No land was seen by the gallant men on board this little ship for -sixty-eight days. On the 30th of September they fell in with some -islands in 8° north latitude, which they termed the Isle of Thieves, -from the dishonest disposition of the natives. On the 16th of October -they reached the Philippines, and anchored at Mindanao. On the 3rd of -November the Moluccas were seen, and they soon anchored before the -chief town of Ternate, entered into civil gossip with the natives, -and were visited by the king, “a true gentleman Pagan.” Among the -presents received from this royal person were fowls, rice, sugar, -cloves, figs, and “a sort of meale which they call _sagu_, made of -the tops of certaine trees, tasting in the mouth like soure curds, -but melteth like sugar, whereof they make certaine cakes, which may -be kept the space of ten yeeres and yet then good to be eaten.” -Brilliant offers were made by the Sultan of Ternate; but Drake was -shy of them, and on the 9th of November, having taken in a large -quantity of cloves, the Golden Hind left the Moluccas. - -On the 14th they anchored near the eastern part of Celebes, and -finding the land uninhabited and abundant in forests, they determined -there fully to repair the ship for her voyage home. “Throughout -the groves,” say the old writers in Purchas and Hakluyt, “there -flickered innumerable bats ‘as bigge as large hennes.’ There were -also multitudes of ‘fiery wormes flying in the ayre,’ no larger -than the common fly in England, which skimming up and down between -woods and bushes, made “such a shew and light as if every twigge or -tree had bene a burning candle.” They likewise saw great numbers of -land-crabs, or cray-fish, “of exceeding bignesse, one whereof was -sufficient for foure hungry stomackes at a dinner, being also very -good and restoring meat, whereof wee had experience; and they digge -themselves holes in the earth like conies.” - -On the 12th of December they again set sail; but now came their -great peril. After being entangled in shoals among the Spice Islands -for some days, in the night of the 9th of January, 1580, the Golden -Hind struck on a rock. No leak appeared; but the ship was immovable. -The ebb tide left her in but six feet water, while, so deeply was -she laden, that it required thirteen feet of water to float her. -Eight guns, three tons of cloves, and a quantity of meal were thrown -overboard, but this did not relieve the ship. “We stucke fast,” says -the narrator in Hakluyt, “from eight of the clocke at night til foure -of the clocke in the afternoone the next day, being indeede out of -all hope to escape the danger; but our generall, as he had alwayes -hitherto shewed himself couragious, and of a good confidence in the -mercie and protection of God, so now he continued in the same; and -lest he should seeme to perish wilfully, both hee and wee did our -best indevour to save ourselves, which it pleased God so to blesse, -that in the ende we cleared ourselves most happily of the danger.” - -Their ship in deep water once more, they reached the Isle of Barateve -on the 8th of February, and were kindly and handsomely treated by -the inhabitants. Java was reached on the 12th of March, and here -again they were generously received. On the 26th they left Java, and -did not again see land till they passed the Cape of Good Hope, on -the 15th of June. The Portuguese being acquaintances, Drake did not -wish just then to meet; he did not land at the Cape, but steered away -north, and on the 22nd of July arrived at Sierra Leone. Finally, on -the 26th of September, 1580, after an absence of two years and ten -months, he came to anchor in the harbour of Plymouth. - -The riches he had brought home, the daring bravery he had displayed, -the perils undergone, the marvels told of the strange countries -visited, made Drake the idol of the whole English people. On the 4th -of April, 1581, Queen Elizabeth went in state to dine on board the -Golden Hind, then lying at Deptford. After the banquet she knighted -the gallant circumnavigator, and also gave orders that his vessel -should be preserved as a monument of the glory of the nation and of -the illustrious voyager. - -[Illustration: Decoration] - - - - -CHAPTER IV. - - -One path of Enterprise belongs distinctly to modern adventurers—the -search after interesting remains of antiquity, and investigation of -their present actual condition. Such enterprises of discovery have -often their source in a love of Art, which can only exist in the -most cultivated minds. In other instances they arise from a laudable -desire to verify ancient history, and thus serve the highly important -purpose of confirming that branch of human knowledge which has -hitherto depended simply on the testimony of written tradition. - -Perhaps the greatest contributor to certain knowledge in this -department of enterprise and discovery was the celebrated Belzoni, -though our acquaintance with the time-honoured and mysterious -monuments of Egypt has been enlarged by many other travellers. Greece -has also had her distinguished list of antiquarian explorers; and the -glowing lands of the East, so famous in sacred and profane story, -have been visited by numerous travellers, each and all ardent to -survey and report the present condition of the diversified monuments -of human skill and strength existing in the primeval countries of our -race. - -Every youthful visitor to the British Museum will be interested with -the beautiful black granite statue so well known as “the young -Memnon.” Near the left foot of this gigantic sitting figure will be -found the name of Belzoni, cut by his own hand. Burckhardt and Salt -were the enterprising and disinterested persons who paid the expenses -of conveying this massive piece of ancient sculpture to Alexandria: -Belzoni and his assistants undertook the immense labour. - -[Illustration: THE RUINS OF LUXOR.] - -It was amidst the ruins of Thebes, old Homer’s “city of the hundred -gates,” that this far-famed statue of an old Egyptian king had long -lain. His wonder at entering this ruined metropolis is thus described -by Belzoni: “We saw for the first time the ruins of great Thebes, -and landed at Luxor. Here I beg the reader to observe that but very -imperfect ideas can be formed of the extensive ruins of Thebes, -even from the accounts of the most skilful and accurate travellers. -It is absolutely impossible to imagine the scene displayed without -seeing it. The most sublime ideas that can be formed from the most -magnificent specimens of our present architecture would give a very -incorrect picture of these ruins; for such is the difference, not -only in magnitude, but in form, proportion, and construction, that -even the pencil can convey but a faint idea of the whole. It appeared -to me like entering a city of giants, who, after a long conflict, -were all destroyed, leaving the ruins of their various temples -as the only proof of their former existence. The temple of Luxor -presents to the traveller at once one of the most splendid groups of -Egyptian grandeur. The extensive propylæon, with the two obelisks, -and colossal statues in the front; the thick groups of enormous -columns; the variety of apartments and the sanctuary it contains; the -beautiful ornaments which adorn every part of the walls and columns, -cause in the astonished traveller an oblivion of all that he has seen -before. If his attention be attracted to the north side of Thebes by -the towering remains that project a great height above the wood of -palm trees, he will gradually enter that forest-like assemblage of -ruins of temples, columns, obelisks, colossi, sphynxes, portals, and -an endless number of other astonishing objects, that will convince -him at once of the impossibility of a description. On the west side -of the Nile, still the traveller finds himself among wonders. The -temples of Gournou, Memnonium, and Medinet Aboo, attest the extent of -the great city on this side. The unrivalled colossal figures in the -plain of Thebes, the number of tombs excavated in the rocks, those -in the great valley of the kings, with their paintings, sculptures, -mummies, sarcophagi, figures, &c., are all objects worthy of the -admiration of the traveller, who will not fail to wonder how a nation -which was once so great as to erect these stupendous edifices could -so far fall into oblivion that even their language and writing are -totally unknown to us.” - -[Illustration: RUINS OF THE TEMPLE OF MEMNON.] - -[Illustration: BUST OF MEMNON.] - -The bust of Memnon, the immediate object of Belzoni’s research, soon -caught his eye. It was lying with its face upwards, and “apparently -smiling on me,” says Belzoni, “at the thought of being taken to -England.” Among a semi-barbarous people like the Arabs the discoverer -had a thousand difficulties to overcome before he could succeed in -moving this bust of ten or twelve tons weight one inch from its bed -of sand. The chiefs eyed him with jealousy, and conceived, as usual, -that he came in quest of hidden treasures; and the Fellahs were with -difficulty set to work, having made up their minds that it was a -hopeless task. When these simple people saw it first move they all -set up a loud shout, declaring it was not their exertions but the -power of the devil that had effected it. The enormous mass was put in -motion by a few poles and palm-leaf ropes, all the means which they -could command, and which nothing but the ingenuity of Belzoni could -have made efficient. But these materials, poor as they were, created -not half the difficulty and delay occasioned by the intrigues of -the Cachefs and Kaimakans, all of whom were desirous of extorting as -much money as they possibly could, and of obstructing the progress of -the work, as the surest means of effecting their purpose. Even the -labourers, on finding that money was given to them for removing a -mere mass of stone, took it into their heads that it must be filled -with gold, and agreed that so precious an article ought not to be -taken out of the country. Belzoni succeeded, however, in allaying -these ridiculous imaginings, and eighteen days after the commencement -of the operation the colossal bust reached the banks of the Nile. -One day was consumed in embarking it; and after a voyage of hazard -among the cataracts of the Nile, the illustrious traveller reached -Cairo with his prize. From thence he conveyed it to Alexandria, and -lodged it in the Pasha’s magazine; he then returned to Cairo, and -accompanied by Mr. Beechy, immediately proceeded up the Nile, with -the determination, if possible, to accomplish the opening of the -great temple of Ipsambul, a labour he had commenced but a short time -before. - -[Illustration: BELZONI REMOVING THE BUST OF MEMNON.] - -This grand and gigantic relic of antiquity was discovered and brought -into notice by the lamented Burckhardt, but when Belzoni first -approached it, the accumulation of sand was such “that it appeared -an impossibility ever to reach the door.” The exact spot where he -had fixed the entrance to be was determined in his own mind from -observing the head of a hawk, of such a monstrous size that, with -the body, it could not be less than twenty feet high. This bird he -concluded to be over the doorway; and as below the figure there -is generally a vacant space, followed by a frieze and cornice, he -calculated the upper part of the doorway to be about thirty-five feet -below the summit of the sand. - -Having succeeded in procuring for hire, from one of the cachefs, -as many labourers as he could afford to employ, Belzoni set about -clearing away the sand from the front of the temple. The only -condition made with the cachef was, that all the gold and jewels -found in it should belong to him, as chief of the country, and that -Belzoni should have all the stones. At the end of four or five days -his funds were entirely exhausted; he therefore, after obtaining -a promise from the chief that no one should molest the work in -his absence, resumed his search for other antiquities; and, after -conveying the Memnon to Alexandria, and being joined by Mr. Beechy at -Cairo, met, at Philæ, with Captains Irby and Mangles of the British -Navy, and was joined also by them. - -Having conciliated the cachefs by suitable presents, they agreed to -give the workmen, who were eighty in number, three hundred piastres -for removing the sand as low down as the entrance. At first they -seemed to set about the task like men who were determined to finish -the job; but, at the end of the third day, they all grew tired, and, -“under the pretext that the Rhamadan was to commence on the next day, -they left us,” says Belzoni, “with the temple, the sand, and the -treasure, and contented themselves with keeping the three hundred -piastres.” - -The travellers were now convinced that, if the temple was to be -opened at all, it must be by their own exertions; and, accordingly -assisted by the crew of the boat, they set to work, and, by dint of -perseverance and hard labour for about eighteen days, they arrived -at the doorway of that temple, which had, in all probability, been -covered with sand two thousand years, and which proved to be the -finest and most extensive in Nubia. Belzoni thus describes the -exterior of the temple of Ipsambul. - -“The outside of this temple is magnificent. It is a hundred and -seventeen feet wide, and eighty-six feet high: the height from the -top of the cornice to the top of the door being sixty-six feet six -inches, and the height of the door twenty feet. There are four -enormous sitting colossi, the largest in Egypt or Nubia, except -the great sphinx at the pyramids, to which they approach in the -proportion of nearly two thirds. From the shoulder to the elbow they -measure fifteen feet six inches; the ears three feet six inches; the -face seven feet; the beard five feet six inches; across the shoulders -twenty-five feet four inches; their height is about fifty-one feet, -not including the caps, which are about fourteen feet. - -[Illustration: ONE OF THE ENORMOUS SITTING COLOSSI.] - -“There are only two of these colossi in sight: one is still buried -under the sand, and the other, which is near the door, is half fallen -down, and buried also. On the top of the door is a colossal figure -of Osiris, twenty feet high, with two colossal hieroglyphic figures, -one on each side, looking towards it. On the top of the temple is a -cornice with hieroglyphics, a torus and frieze under it. The cornice -is six feet wide, the frieze is four feet. Above the cornice is a -row of sitting monkeys eight feet high, and six feet wide across the -shoulders. They are twenty-one in number. This temple was nearly -two-thirds buried under the sand, of which we removed thirty-one feet -before we came to the upper part of the door. It must have had a very -fine landing-place, which is now totally buried under the sand. It is -the last and largest temple excavated in the solid rock in Nubia or -Egypt, except the new tomb in Beban el Molook. - -“The heat on first entering the temple was so great that they could -scarcely bear it, and the perspiration from their hands was so -copious as to render the paper, by its dripping, unfit for use. On -the first opening that was made by the removal of the sand, the only -living object that presented itself was a toad of prodigious size. -Halls and chambers, supported by magnificent columns and adorned -with beautiful intaglios, paintings, and colossal figures, the walls -being covered partly with hieroglyphics, and partly with exhibitions -of battles, storming of castles, triumphs over the Ethiopians, -sacrifices, &c.—made up the striking interior.” - -Nothing but the most extraordinary degree of enthusiasm could have -supported Belzoni in the numerous descents which he made into the -mummy pits of Egypt, and through the long narrow subterraneous -passages, particularly inconvenient for a man of his size—for he was -six feet and a half in height, and muscular in proportion. - -“Of some of these tombs,” says he, “many persons could not withstand -the suffocating air, which often causes fainting. A vast quantity -of dust arises, so fine that it enters the throat and nostrils, and -chokes the nose and mouth to such a degree that it requires great -power of lungs to resist it and the strong effluvia of the mummies. -This is not all; the entry or passage where the bodies are is roughly -cut in the rocks, and the falling of the sand from the upper part -or ceiling of the passage causes it to be nearly filled up. In some -places there is not more than the vacancy of a foot left, which you -must contrive to pass through in a creeping posture like a snail, on -pointed and keen stones that cut like glass. After getting through -these passages, some of them two or three hundred yards long, you -generally find a more commodious place, perhaps high enough to sit. -But what a place of rest! surrounded by bodies, by heaps of mummies -in all directions, which, previous to my being accustomed to the -sight, impressed me with horror. The blackness of the wall, the faint -light given by the candles or torches for want of air, the different -objects that surrounded me seeming to converse with each other, and -the Arabs with the candles or torches in their hands, naked and -covered with dust, themselves resembling living mummies, absolutely -formed a scene that cannot be described. In such a situation I found -myself several times, and often returned exhausted and fainting, till -at last I became inured to it and indifferent to what I suffered, -except from the dust, which never failed to choke my throat and nose; -and though, fortunately, I am destitute of the sense of smelling, -I could taste that the mummies were rather unpleasant to swallow. -After the exertion of entering into such a place, through a passage -of fifty, a hundred, three hundred, or perhaps six hundred yards, -nearly overcome, I sought a resting-place, found one, and contrived -to sit; but when my weight bore on the body of an Egyptian, it -crushed it like a band-box. I naturally had recourse to my hands to -sustain my weight, but they found no better support, so that I sunk -altogether among the broken mummies, with a crash of bones, rags, and -wooden cases, which raised such a dust as kept me motionless for a -quarter of an hour waiting till it subsided again. I could not remove -from the place, however, without increasing it, and every step I took -I crushed a mummy in some part or other. - -“Once I was conducted from such a place to another resembling it, -through a passage of about twenty feet in length, and no wider than -that a body could be forced through. It was choked with mummies, and -I could not pass without putting my face in contact with that of some -decayed Egyptian, but as the passage inclined downwards my own weight -helped me on; however, I could not avoid being covered with bones, -legs, arms, and heads rolling from above. Thus I proceeded from one -cave to another, all full of mummies piled up in various ways, some -standing, some lying, and some on their heads. The purpose of my -researches was to rob the Egyptians of their papyri, of which I found -a few hidden in their breasts, under their arms, in the space above -the knees, or on the legs, and covered by the numerous folds of cloth -that envelope the mummy. The people of Gournou, who make a trade of -antiquities of this sort, are very jealous of strangers, and keep -them as secret as possible, deceiving travellers by pretending that -they have arrived at the end of the pits when they are scarcely at -the entrance. I could never prevail on them to conduct me into these -places till this my second voyage, when I succeeded in obtaining -admission into any cave where mummies were to be seen.” - -M. Drovetti, the French consul, had discovered a sarcophagus in a -cavern of the mountains of Gournou, but had endeavoured in vain to -get it out; he therefore acquainted Belzoni that he would present -him with it. This gave occasion to an adventure which possesses -much of the interest of romance in the recital. Mr. Belzoni entered -the cavern with two Arabs and an interpreter. He thus describes the -enterprise:— - -“Previous to our entering the cave we took off the greater part of -our clothes, and, each having a candle, advanced through a cavity -in the rock, which extended a considerable length in the mountain, -sometimes pretty high, sometimes very narrow, and without any -regularity. In some passages we were obliged to creep on the ground, -like crocodiles. I perceived that we were at a great distance from -the entrance, and the way was so intricate that I depended entirely -on the two Arabs to conduct us out again. At length we arrived at a -large space into which many other holes or cavities opened; and after -some examination by the two Arabs, we entered one of these, which was -very narrow, and continued downward for a long way, through a craggy -passage, till we came where two other apertures led to the interior -in a horizontal direction. One of the Arabs then said, ‘This is the -place.’ I could not conceive how so large a sarcophagus as had been -described to me could have been taken through the aperture which -the Arab now pointed out. I had no doubt but these recesses were -burial-places, as we continually walked over skulls and other bones; -but the sarcophagus could never have entered this recess, for it was -so narrow that on my attempt to penetrate it I could not pass. - -“One of the Arabs however succeeded, as did my interpreter; and -it was agreed that I and the other Arab should wait till they -returned. They proceeded evidently to a great distance, for the -light disappeared, and only a murmuring sound from their voices -could be distinguished as they went on. After a few moments I heard -a loud noise, and the interpreter distinctly crying, ‘O, my God, I -am lost!’ After which, a profound silence ensued. I asked my Arab -whether he had ever been in that place? He replied, ‘Never.’ I could -not conceive what could have happened, and thought the best plan -was to return, to procure help from the other Arabs. Accordingly, I -told my man to show me the way out again; but, staring at me like an -idiot, he said he did not know the road. I called repeatedly to the -interpreter, but received no answer. I watched a long time, but no -one returned; and my situation was no very pleasant one. I naturally -returned, through the passages by which we had come; and, after some -time, I succeeded in reaching the place where, as I mentioned, were -many cavities. It was a complete labyrinth, as all these places bore -a great resemblance to the one which we first entered. At last, -seeing one which appeared to be the right, we proceeded through it a -long way; but, by this time, our candles had diminished considerably, -and I feared that if we did not get out soon, we should have to -remain in the dark. Meantime, it would have been dangerous to put -one out to save the other, lest that which was left should, by some -accident, be extinguished. At this time we were considerably advanced -towards the outside, as we thought; but, to our sorrow, we found the -end of that cavity without any outlet. - -“Convinced that we were mistaken in our conjecture, we quickly -returned towards the place of the various entries, which we strove -to regain. But we were then as perplexed as ever, and were both -exhausted from the ascents and descents, which we had been obliged -to go over. The Arab seated himself, but every moment of delay was -dangerous. The only expedient was to put a mark at the place out of -which we had just come, and then examine the cavities in succession, -by putting also a mark at their entrance, so as to know where we had -been. Unfortunately our candles would not last through the whole: -however, we began our operations. - -“On the second attempt, when passing before a small aperture, I -thought I heard the sound of something like the roaring of the sea -at a distance. In consequence, I entered this cavity; and, as we -advanced, the noise increased, till I could distinctly hear a number -of voices all at one time. At last, thank God, we walked out; and -to my no small surprise, the first person I saw was my interpreter. -How he came to be there I could not conjecture. He told me that, in -proceeding with the Arab along the passage below, they came to a pit, -which they did not see; that the Arab fell into it, and in falling -put out both candles. It was then that he cried out, ‘I am lost!’ as -he thought he also should have fallen into the pit. But on raising -his head, he saw, at a great distance, a glimpse of daylight, towards -which he advanced, and thus arrived at a small aperture. He then -scraped away some loose sand and stones, to widen the place where -he came out, and went to give the alarm to the Arabs, who were at -the other entrance. Being all concerned for the man who fell to the -bottom of the pit, it was their noise that I heard in the cave. The -place by which my interpreter got out was instantly widened: and, in -the confusion, the Arabs did not regard letting me see that they were -acquainted with that entrance, and that it had lately been shut up. -I was not long in detecting their scheme. The Arabs had intended to -show me the sarcophagus, without letting me see the way by which it -might be taken out, and then to stipulate a price for the secret. It -was with this view they took me such a way round about.” - -Of all the discoveries of Belzoni, the most magnificent was that of -a new tomb in the Beban el Molook, or Vale of the Tombs of Kings. “I -may call this,” says the traveller, “a fortunate day, one of the best -perhaps of my life: from the pleasure it afforded me of presenting -to the world a new and perfect monument of Egyptian antiquity, which -can be recorded as superior to any other in point of grandeur, -style, and preservation,—appearing as if just finished on the day -we entered it; and what I found in it,” he adds, “will show its -great superiority to all others.” Certain indications had convinced -him of the existence of a large and unopened sepulchre. Impressed -with this idea, he caused the earth to be dug away to the depth of -eighteen feet, when the entrance made its appearance. The passage, -however, was choked up with large stones, which were with difficulty -removed. A long corridor, with a painted ceiling, led to a staircase -twenty-three feet long, and nearly nine feet wide. At the bottom was -a door, twelve feet high; it opened into a second corridor of the -same width, thirty-seven feet long, the sides and ceiling finely -sculptured and painted. “The more I saw,” he says, “the more I was -eager to see.” His progress, however, was interrupted at the end -of this second corridor by a pit thirty feet deep and twelve wide. -Beyond this was perceived a small aperture of about two feet square -in the wall, out of which hung a rope reaching probably to the bottom -of the well; another rope fastened to a beam of wood stretching -across the passage, on this side also, hung into the well. One of -these ropes was unquestionably for the purpose of descending on one -side of the well, and the other for that of ascending on the opposite -side. Both the wood and the rope crumbled to dust on being touched. - -By means of two beams, Belzoni contrived to cross this pit or -well, and to force a larger opening in the wall, beyond which was -discovered a third corridor of the same dimensions as the two former. -Those parts of the wood and rope which were on the further side of -this wall did not fall to dust, but were in a tolerably good state -of preservation, owing, as he supposed, to the dryness of the air in -these more distant apartments. The pit, he thought, was intended as -a sort of reservoir to receive the wet which might drain through the -ground between it and the external entrance. - -“The sepulchre was now found to open into a number of chambers of -different dimensions, with corridors and staircases. Of the chambers, -the first was a beautiful hall, twenty-seven feet six inches by -twenty-five feet ten inches, in which were four pillars, each three -feet square. At the end of this room I call the Entrance-hall,” says -the famous discoverer, “is a large door, from which three steps lead -down into a chamber with two pillars. This is twenty-eight feet two -inches by twenty-five feet six inches. The pillars are three feet -ten inches square. I gave it the name of the Drawing-room; for it -is covered with figures, which, though only outlined, are so fine -and perfect, that you would think they had been drawn only the day -before. Returning into the Entrance-hall, we saw on the left of -the aperture a large staircase, which descended into a corridor. -It is thirteen feet four inches long, seven and a half wide, and -has eighteen steps. At the bottom we entered a beautiful corridor, -thirty-six feet six inches by six feet eleven inches. We perceived -that the paintings became more perfect as we advanced farther into -the interior. They retained their gloss, or a kind of varnish over -the colours, which had a beautiful effect. The figures are painted -on a white ground. At the end of this corridor we descended ten -steps, which I call the small stairs, into another, seventeen feet -two inches by ten feet five inches. From this we entered a small -chamber, twenty feet four inches by thirteen feet eight inches, to -which I gave the name of the Room of Beauties; for it is adorned with -the most beautiful figures in basso relievo, like all the rest, and -painted. When standing in the centre of this chamber, the traveller -is surrounded by an assembly of Egyptian gods and goddesses. - -“Proceeding further, we entered a large hall, twenty-seven feet nine -inches by twenty-six feet ten inches. In this hall are two rows of -square pillars, three on each side of the entrance, forming a line -with the corridors. At each side of this hall is a small chamber. -This hall I termed the Hall of Pillars: the chamber on the right -Isis’ Room, as in it a large cow is painted: that on the left, the -Room of Mysteries, from the mysterious figures it exhibits. At the -end of this hall we entered a large saloon with an arched roof or -ceiling, which is separated from the Hall of Pillars only by a step, -so that the two may be reckoned one. - -[Illustration: TEMPLE OF ISIS.] - -“The saloon is thirty-one feet ten inches by twenty-seven feet. On -the right of the saloon is a small chamber without anything in it, -roughly cut, as if unfinished, and without painting: on the left we -entered a chamber with two square pillars, twenty-five feet eight -inches by twenty-two feet ten inches. This I called the Sideboard -Room, as it has a projection of three feet in a form of a sideboard -all round, which was perhaps intended to contain the articles -necessary for the funeral ceremony. The pillars are three feet four -inches square, and the whole beautifully painted as the rest. At the -same end of the room, and facing the Hall of Pillars, we entered -by a large door into another chamber with four pillars, one of -which is fallen down. This chamber is forty-three feet four inches -by seventeen feet six inches; the pillars three feet seven inches -square. It is covered with white plaster, where the rock did not cut -smoothly, but there is no painting on it. I named it the Bull’s, or -Apis’ Room, as we found the carcase of a bull in it, embalmed with -asphaltum; and also, scattered in various places, an immense quantity -of small wooden figures of mummies, six or eight inches long, and -covered with asphaltum to preserve them. There were some other -figures of fine earth baked, coloured blue, and strongly varnished. -On each side of the two little rooms were wooden statues standing -erect, four feet high, with a circular hollow inside, as if to -contain a roll of papyrus, which I have no doubt they did. We found -likewise fragments of other statues of wood and of composition. - -“But the description of what we found in the centre of the saloon, -and which I have reserved till this place, merits the most particular -attention, not having its equal in the world, and being such as we -had no idea could exist. It is a sarcophagus of the finest oriental -alabaster, nine feet five inches long, and three feet seven inches -wide. Its thickness is only two inches; and it is transparent when a -light is placed inside of it. It is minutely sculptured within and -without with several hundred figures, which do not exceed two inches -in height, and represent, as I suppose, the whole of the funeral -procession and ceremonies relating to the deceased, united with -several emblems. I cannot give an adequate idea of this beautiful -and invaluable piece of antiquity, and can only say that nothing has -been brought into Europe from Egypt that can be compared with it. The -cover was not there; it had been taken out, and broken into several -pieces, which we found in digging before the first entrance. The -sarcophagus was over a staircase in the centre of the saloon, which -communicated in a subterraneous passage, leading downwards, three -hundred feet in length. At the end of this passage we found a great -quantity of bats’ dung, which choked it up, so that we could go no -further without digging. It was nearly filled up too by the falling -in of the upper part.” - -This sarcophagus is now to be seen in Sir John Soane’s Museum, -Lincoln’s Inn Fields. The sight of it will richly repay the visitor. -Copies of the figures on the walls of the tomb are to be seen in the -Egyptian rooms of the British Museum, and form not the least striking -of its vast collection of curiosities. - -Perhaps the most arduous of Belzoni’s enterprises was the opening -of the second pyramid of Ghiza, known by the name of Cephrenes, -as the largest pyramid is known by the name of Cheops. Herodotus, -the ancient Greek historian, was informed that this pyramid had no -subterranean chambers, and his information being found in latter -ages to be generally correct, may be supposed to have operated in -preventing that curiosity which prompted the opening of the great -pyramid of Cheops by Shaw. Belzoni, however, perceived certain -indications of sufficient weight to induce him to make the attempt. - -“The opening of this pyramid,” says Mr. Salt, the English -consul-general, “had long been considered an object of so hopeless -a nature that it is difficult to conceive how any person could -be found sanguine enough to make the attempt; and even after the -discovery, with great labour, of the forced entrance, it required -great perseverance in Belzoni, and confidence in his own views, to -induce him to continue the operation, when it became evident that -the extensive labours of his predecessors in the enterprise had -completely failed. The direct manner in which he dug down upon the -door affords the most incontestable proof that chance had nothing to -do with the discovery itself, of which Belzoni has given a very clear -description.” - -“On my return to Cairo,” says he, “I again went to visit the -celebrated pyramids of Ghiza; and on viewing that of Cephrenes I -could not help reflecting how many travellers of different nations, -who had visited this spot, contented themselves with looking at the -outside of the pyramid, and went away without inquiring whether -any and what chambers exist within it; satisfied, perhaps, with -the report of the Egyptian priests, ‘that the pyramid of Cheops -only contained chambers in its interior.’ I then began to consider -the possibility of opening this pyramid. The attempt was, perhaps, -presumptuous; and the risk of undertaking such an immense work -without success deterred me in some degree from the enterprise. I -am not certain whether love for antiquity, an ardent curiosity, -or ambition, spurred me on most in spite of every obstacle, but I -determined at length to commence the operation. - -“I set out from Cairo on the 6th of February, 1818, under pretence of -going in quest of some antiquities at a village not far off, in order -that I might not be disturbed in my work by the people of Cairo. I -then repaired to the Kaiya Bey, and asked permission to work at the -pyramid of Ghiza, in search of antiquities. He made no objection, -but said that he wished to know if there was any ground about the -pyramid fit for tillage. I informed him that it was all stones, and -at a considerable distance from any tilled ground. He nevertheless -persisted in inquiring of the cachef of the province, if there was -any good ground near the pyramids; and after receiving the necessary -information, granted my request. - -“Having thus acquired permission I began my labours on the 10th of -February, at a point on the north side, in a vertical section at -right angles to that side of the base. I saw many reasons against -my beginning there, but certain indications told me that there was -an entrance at that spot. I employed sixty labouring men, and began -to cut through the mass of stones and cement which had fallen from -the upper part of the pyramid; but it was so hard joined together -that the men spoiled several of their hatchets in the operation. -The stones which had fallen down along with the cement had formed -themselves into one solid and almost impenetrable mass. I succeeded, -however, in making an opening of fifteen feet wide, and continued -working downwards in uncovering the face of the pyramid. This work -took up several days, without the least prospect of meeting with -anything interesting. Meantime I began to fear that some of the -Europeans residing at Cairo might pay a visit to the pyramids, which -they do very often, and thus discover my retreat and interrupt my -proceedings. - -“On the 17th of the same month we had made a considerable advance -downwards, when an Arab workman called out, making a great noise, and -saying that he had found the entrance. He had discovered a hole in -the pyramid into which he could just thrust his arm and a djerid of -six feet long. Towards the evening we discovered a larger aperture, -about three feet square, which had been closed in irregularly by a -hewn stone. This stone I caused to be removed, and then came to an -opening larger than the preceding, but filled up with loose stones -and sand. This satisfied me that it was not the real but a forced -passage, which I found to lead inwards and towards the south. The -next day we succeeded in entering fifteen feet from the outside, -when we reached a place where the sand and stones began to fall from -above. I caused the rubbish to be taken out, but it still continued -to fall in great quantities. At last, after some days’ labour, I -discovered an upper forced entrance, communicating with the outside -from above, and which had evidently been cut by some one who was in -search of the true passage. Having cleared this passage I perceived -another opening below, which apparently ran towards the centre of the -pyramid. - -“In a few hours I was able to enter this passage, which runs -horizontally towards the centre of the pyramid, nearly all choked -up with stones and sand. These obstructions I caused to be taken -out, and at halfway from the entrance I found a descent, which also -had been forced, and which ended at the distance of forty feet. I -afterwards continued the work in the horizontal passage above, in -hopes that it might lead to the centre; but I was disappointed, -and at last was convinced that it ended there, and that to attempt -to advance that way would only incur the risk of sacrificing some -of my workmen, as it was really astonishing to see how the stones -hung suspended over their heads, resting perhaps by a single point; -indeed, one of these stones fell, and had nearly killed one of the -men. I therefore retired from the forced passage with great regret -and disappointment. - -“Notwithstanding the discouragements I met with I recommenced my -researches on the following day, depending upon my indications. I -directed the ground to be cleared away to the eastward of the false -entrance; the stones, encrusted and bound together with cement, -were equally hard as the former, and we had as many large stones to -remove as before. By this time my retreat had been discovered, which -occasioned me many interruptions from visitors. - -“On February 28, we discovered a block of granite in an inclined -direction towards the centre of the pyramid, and I perceived that the -inclination was the same as that of the passage of the first pyramid, -or that of Cheops; consequently I began to hope that I was near the -true entrance. On the 1st of March we observed three large blocks -of stone one upon the other, all inclined towards the centre; these -large stones we had to remove as well as others much larger, as we -advanced, which considerably retarded our approach to the desired -spot. I perceived, however, that I was near the true entrance, and, -in fact, the next day about noon, on the 2nd of March, was the epoch -at which the grand pyramid of Cephrenes was at last opened, after -being closed up so many centuries, that it remained an uncertainty -whether any interior chambers did or did not exist.” - -Belzoni then gives a detailed description of the passages leading to -the great chamber of the pyramid. “On entering the great chamber,” -he continues, “I found it to be forty-six feet three inches long, -sixteen feet three inches wide, and twenty-three feet six inches -high, for the most part cut out of the solid rock (for this chamber -was at the bottom of the pyramid) except that part of the roof -towards the western end. In the midst we observed a sarcophagus of -granite partly buried in the ground to the level of the floor, eight -feet long, three feet six inches wide, and two feet three inches -deep inside, surrounded by large blocks of granite, being placed -apparently to guard it from being taken away, which could not be -effected without great labour. The lid of it had been opened; I found -in it only a few bones of a human skeleton, which merit preservation -as curious relics, they being in all probability those of Cephrenes, -the reported builder of the pyramid.” - -[Illustration: TOMB OF ALEXANDER THE GREAT.] - -It is necessary, however, to inform the young reader that Belzoni, -being unversed in osteology, was mistaken here, and that these bones, -when examined by scientific men in London, were found to be those -of a cow; thus giving foundation for the theory that the bodies -of sacred animals, the representatives of the Egyptian gods, were -interred with extraordinary honours. - -[Illustration: HEAD OF THE GREAT SPHYNX.] - -To narrate all the enterprises of Belzoni would occupy volumes. -Let us allude but to one more. He uncovered the front of the great -Sphynx—that gigantic monument which has been synonymous with -“Mystery” from the remotest ages of history. Numerous pieces of -antiquity were as unexpectedly as extraordinarily developed by this -enterprise—pieces which, for many centuries, had not been exposed -to human eyes. Among other things, a beautiful temple, cut out of -one piece of granite, yet of considerable dimensions, was discovered -between the legs of the sphynx, having within it a sculptured lion -and a small sphynx. In one of the paws of the great sphynx was -another temple with a sculptured lion standing on an altar. In -front of the great sphynx were the remains of buildings, apparently -temples, and several granite slabs with inscriptions cut into them, -some entire and others broken. One of these is by Claudius Cæsar, -recording his visits to the pyramids, and another by Antoninus Pius, -both of which, with the little lions, are now in the British Museum. - -[Illustration: STATUES AT LUXOR.] - - - - -CHAPTER V. - - -With the progress of civilization, Enterprise took more diversified -forms. First, man was summoned to display this commanding quality of -mind in the subjugation or destruction of the stronger and fiercer -animals; then he had to enter on the perilous adventure into strange -regions by land, and the hazardous transit of the ocean, in search -of still more unknown countries. We have just glanced at another -department of enterprise—the search for antiquities; and the subject -was placed in this order because it seemed naturally connected with -the perils of travel. But enterprise had taken a thousand forms -before men began to venture on great dangers for the attainment of -more certain knowledge of the past: the hewing of rocks and levelling -of forests, the disembowelling of mines, the construction of highways -and harbours, the erection of bridges and lighthouses, of Cyclopæan -piles and pyramids, of obelisks and columns, of aqueducts and walls -of cities—these, and a thousand other displays of strength, genius, -and skill, were among the “Triumphs of Enterprise” ages ago, and they -are now succeeded by the formation of railways, and the myriad-fold -enterprises of modern science. - -How much would we not give for an authentic account of those -mysterious enterprises—the building of Stonehenge, of the round -towers of Ireland, and of the multitudinous “Druidical” monuments, -as they are termed, which are scattered in immense masses over Spain -and other parts of the continent? We are left to conjecture for -their origin, and our knowledge of it may never reach to certainty. -The venerable pyramids themselves are equally mysterious, both as -it regards the purposes for which they were erected and the means -of erecting them. The Cyclopæan masses of stone which form the -foundations of the ruined temple at Balbec (masses which dwarf the -stones of the Pyramids), as well as the recently discovered remains -in Central America, stretch back into the far past, and also puzzle -and confound all human judgment and reckoning. - -[Illustration: STONEHENGE.] - -Again, even of some of the more recent erections of antiquity, -opinion is divided as to the true cause of carrying out such -enterprises. In this predicament antiquarian criticism places the -Roman aqueducts—those immense structures, formed often of several -miles of arches, on which water was conveyed over valleys. From a -passage in Pliny it is argued that the Romans were really acquainted -with the hydrostatic truth that water will rise to its own level; -that these immense edifices were erected rather from reasons of state -policy than from ignorance, the construction of them serving to -employ turbulent spirits. All this, however, is doubtful, and it may -be that real ignorance stimulated the Romans to carry on and complete -these gigantic undertakings which abound in their empire. One, it -may be observed, which was begun by Caius Cæsar, but completed by -Claudius, and therefore called the Claudian aqueduct, was forty -miles in length, and was raised sufficiently to distribute water over -the seven hills of the imperial mistress of the world. - -[Illustration: RUINS OF THE TEMPLE AT BALBEC.] - -But above all the civil enterprises of the Romans we ought to place -their roads; these grand and enduring highways, indeed, stamped -Europe with a new feature, and the civilized likeness thus impressed -on her was not effaced until railroads gave the initiative to a -new civilization. We cannot refrain from quoting Gibbon’s masterly -description of the Roman highways; it occurs after he has been -depicturing the subordinate Roman capitals in Asia Minor, Syria, -and Egypt:—“All these cities were connected with each other and -with the capital by the public highways, which, issuing from the -Forum at Rome, traversed Italy, pervaded the provinces, and were -terminated only by the frontiers of the empire. If we carefully trace -the distance from the wall of Antoninus (in Scotland) to Rome, and -from thence to Jerusalem, it will be found that the great chain of -communication from the north-west to the south-east point of the -empire was drawn out to the length of 4080 Roman (or 3740 English) -miles. The public roads were accurately divided by milestones, and -ran in a direct line from one city to another, with very little -respect for the obstacles either of nature or private property. -Mountains were perforated, and bold arches thrown over the broadest -and most rapid streams; the middle part of the road was raised into a -terrace which commanded the adjacent country, consisting of several -strata of sand, gravel, and cement, and was paved with large stones, -or, in some places near the capital, with granite. Such was the -solid construction of the Roman highways, whose firmness has not -entirely yielded to the effect of fifteen centuries. They united -the subjects of the most distant provinces by an easy and familiar -intercourse; but their primary object had been to facilitate the -marches of the legions, nor was any country considered as completely -subdued till it had been rendered in all its parts pervious to the -arms and authority of the conqueror. The advantage of receiving the -earliest intelligence, and of conveying their orders with celerity, -induced the emperors to establish throughout their extensive -dominions the regular institution of posts. Houses were everywhere -erected at the distance of five or six miles; each of them was -constantly provided with forty horses, and by the help of these -relays it was easy to travel a hundred miles in a day along the Roman -roads. The use of the posts was allowed to those who claimed it by -an imperial mandate; but though originally intended for the public -service, it was sometimes indulged to the business or conveniency of -private citizens.” - -[Illustration: ST. PETER’S AT ROME.] - -From other accounts we learn that the Roman roads varied in -importance and uses. The great lines were called “Prætorian ways,” -as being under the direction of the prætors, and those formed the -roads for military intercourse. Other lines were exclusively adapted -for commerce or civil intercourse, and were under the direction of -consuls. Both kinds were formed in a similar manner. The plan on -which they were made was more calculated for durability than ease -to the traveller, and for our modern wheel carriages they would be -found particularly objectionable. Whatever was their entire breadth -the centre constituted the beaten track, and was made of large -ill-dressed stones laid side by side to form a compact mass of from -twelve to twenty feet broad, and therefore in their external aspect -they were but coarse stone causeways. - -Some of the Roman roads had double lines of this solid pavement, with -a smooth brick path for foot passengers, and at intervals along the -sides there were elevated stones on which travellers could rest, or -from which cavalry could easily mount their horses. One important -feature in the construction of all the Roman roads was the bottoming -of them with solid materials. Their first operation seems to have -been the removal of all loose earth or soft matter which might work -upwards to the surface, and then they laid courses of small stones -or broken tiles and earthenware, with a course of cement above, and -upon that were placed the heavy stones for the causeway; thus a -more substantial and durable pavement was formed, the expense being -defrayed from the public treasury. Various remains of Roman roads -of this kind still exist in France, and also in different parts -of Britain. One of the chief Roman thoroughfares, in an oblique -direction across the country from London to the western part of -Scotland, was long known by the name of Watling Street, and the name -has been perpetuated in the appellation of one of the streets of the -metropolis. - -In the construction of their amphitheatres and other places of public -amusement, the Romans far transcended modern nations, in none of -which does a theatre exist of dimensions at all comparable with those -of the cities in the Roman empire. The ruins of the Colosseum, in -Rome itself, are the source of wonder to every visitor. The beautiful -lines of Byron on these magnificent remains of Roman civilization are -well known. - -Respecting numerous other enterprises of the ancient world, -interesting but imperfect accounts remain. Such are the narratives -of what were termed the “Seven Wonders of the World.” It is time, -however, to leave antiquity—or, at least, classic antiquity—to speak -of one wondrous enterprise—that of a nation at the very “ends of the -earth,” of whom indeed many wonders are told. - -Bell, the enterprising traveller, presents, perhaps, the clearest -account of the celebrated “Great Wall of China.” - -“On the 2nd of November, 1720, about noon,” says he, “we could -perceive the famous wall, running along the tops of the mountains, -towards the north-east. One of our people cried out ‘land!’ as if -we had been all this while at sea. It was now, as nearly as I can -compute, about forty English miles from us, and appeared white at -this distance. The appearance of it, running from one high rock -to another, with square towers at certain intervals, even at this -distance is most magnificent.” - -In two days they arrived at the foot of this mighty barrier, and -entered through a great gate into China. Here a thousand men were -perpetually on guard, by the officers commanding whom they were -received with much politeness, and invited to tea. - -“The long, or endless wall, as it is commonly called,” continues -Bell, “encompasses all the north and west parts of China. It was -built about six hundred years ago by one of the emperors, to prevent -the frequent incursions of the Mongols and other western Tartars, who -made a practice of assembling numerous troops of horse and invading -the country in different places. The Chinese frontiers were too -extensive to be guarded against such bold and numerous enemies, who, -after plundering and destroying a wealthy country, returned to their -own loaded with spoils. - -“The Chinese, finding all precautions ineffectual to put a stop to -the inroads of such barbarians, at last resolved to build this -famous wall. It begins in the province of Leotong, at the bottom of -the Bay of Nankin, and proceeds across rivers, and over the tops of -the highest mountains, without interruption, keeping nearly along the -circular ridge of barren rocks that surround the country to the north -and west; and, after running southwards about twelve hundred English -miles, ends in impassable mountains and sandy deserts. - -[Illustration: PART OF THE GREAT WALL OF CHINA.] - -This is an engraving of a small portion of this wonderful work. At -the top is represented a piece of the wall, with one of the towers, -as it is seen by a person standing on the ground. Immediately under -it is a bird’s-eye view of the same, representing the dimensions and -position of the tower, in relation to the wall. And on the left side -is a section which shows how the masonry is constructed—of two walls -getting thinner towards the top, and the intermediate space filled in -with work of a rougher kind. - -“The foundation consists of large blocks of square stones, laid -in mortar; but the rest of the wall is built of brick. The whole -is so strong and well built as to need almost no repair, and, in -such a dry climate, may remain in this condition for many ages. Its -height and breadth are not equal in every place; nor, indeed, is -it necessary they should. When carried over steep rocks, where no -horse can pass, it is about fifteen or twenty feet high, and broad -in proportion; but, when running through a valley, or crossing a -river, there you see a strong wall, about thirty feet high, with -square towers at the distance of a bow-shot from one another, and -embrasures at equal distances. The top of the wall is flat, and -paved with broad freestones; and where it rises over a rock, or any -eminence, you ascend by a fine easy stone stair. The bridges over -rivers and torrents are exceedingly neat, being both well contrived -and executed. They have two stories of arches, one above another, to -afford sufficient passage for the waters on sudden rains and floods.” - -Bell was also informed by the Chinese that this wall was completed -within the space of five years; every sixth man in the empire having -been compelled to work at it, or find a substitute. The date of -its erection, however, is considered uncertain; and therefore this -account may also be untrue. Gibbon gives the third century before -the Christian era as the date of its construction, and assigns it a -length of fifteen hundred miles. Du Pauw reduces the length to four -hundred and fifty miles, not choosing to consider the western branch, -“which,” he says, “is of earth, worthy the name of a wall.” Many -writers judge it to be a very recent work, or, at least, of as modern -a date as on this side the thirteenth century, since it is not -mentioned by Marco Polo. Yet _tea_ is not mentioned by him, although -the Chinese have used it for thousands of years. If it be true that -much of Marco Polo’s manuscript was destroyed because his friends -ignorantly believed his wondrous relations (such as the burning of a -“black stone,” or coal, by the Chinese, for fuel) to be false, the -omission of allusions to the Great Wall, in _our_ copies of Marco -Polo will be no argument against its antiquity. - -Next to the Great Wall, the Porcelain Tower of Nankin is usually -classed as the great marvel of China. The following curious -description of this temple of Boudh, for such the porcelain pagoda -is, was purchased in the city of Nankin, on the return of one of our -English embassies, and was first published in a leading periodical, -which was furnished with a translation by Sir George Staunton, the -celebrated scholar and traveller. - -“The Dwelling of Security, Tranquillity, and Peace. The -representation of the precious glazed tower of the Temple of -Gratitude, in the province of Kiang-Nan. - -“This work was commenced at noon, on the fifteenth day of the sixth -moon, of the tenth year of the Emperor Yong Lo (1413 of the Christian -era), of the Dynasty of Ming, and was completed on the first day of -the eighth moon, of the sixth year of the Emperor Siuen Té, of the -same dynasty, being altogether a period of nineteen years in building. - -“The sum of money expended in completing the precious glazed tower -was two millions four hundred and eighty-five thousand, four -hundred and eighty-four ounces of silver. In the construction of -the ornamental globe on the pinnacle of the roof of the tower, -forty-eight _kin_ (one pound and one-third) in weight of gold -(sixty-four pounds), and one thousand four hundred _kin_ in weight of -copper were consumed. The circumference of this globe is thirty-six -_che_ (about fourteen inches). Each round or story is eighteen _che_ -high. In that part of the tower called the quang were consumed four -thousand eight hundred and seventy _kin_ weight of brass. The iron -hoops or rings on the pinnacle of the roof are nine in number, and -sixty-three _che_ each in circumference. The smaller hoops are -twenty-four _che_ in circumference, and their total weight is three -thousand six hundred _kin_. - -“On different parts of the tower are suspended eighty-one iron bells, -each bell weighing twelve _kin_, or sixteen pounds. There are also -nine iron chains, each of which weighs one hundred and fifty _kin_, -and is eighty _che_ long. The copper pan with two mouths to it on the -roof is estimated to weigh nine hundred _kin_, and is sixty _che_ in -circumference. There is also a celestial plate on the top weighing -four hundred and sixty _kin_, and twenty _che_ in circumference. In -the upper part of the tower are preserved the following articles:—Of -night-illuminating pearls, one string; of water-repelling pearls, -one string; of fire-repelling pearls, one string; of dust-repelling -pearls, one string; and over all these is a string of Fo’s relics. -Also an ingot of solid gold, weighing forty _leang_ (ounces), and -one hundred _kin_ weight of tea; of silver, one thousand _leang_ -weight; of the bright huing, two pieces, weighing one hundred _kin_; -of precious stones, one string; of the everlasting physic-money, one -thousand strings; of yellow satin, two pieces; of the book hidden in -the earth, one copy; of the book of Omitd Fo, one copy; of the book -of She Kia Fo, one copy; of the book of Tsie Yin Fo, one copy; all -wrapped up together, and preserved in the temple. - -“The tower has eight sides or faces, and its circumference is two -hundred and forty _che_. The nine stories taken together are two -hundred and twenty-eight and a half _che_ high. From the highest -story to the extreme point of the pinnacle of the roof are one -hundred and twenty _che_. The lamps within the tower are seven times -seven in number, in all forty-nine lamp-dishes, and on the outside -there are one hundred and twenty-eight lamp-dishes. Each night -they are supplied with fifty _kin_ weight of oil. Their splendour -penetrates upwards to the thirty-third heaven—mid-way; they shed a -lustre over the people, the good and bad together—downwards; they -illuminate the earth as far as the City of Tse Kee Hien, in the -Province of Che-Kiang. - -“The official title of the head priest of the temple is Chao Sieu. -His disciples are called Yue. The total number of priests on the -establishment is eight hundred and fifty. The family name of the head -mason of the building was Yao, his personal name Sieu, and his native -town Tsing Kiang Foo. The family name of the head carpenter was Hoo, -his personal name Chung, and his native province Kiang See. - -“The extent of the whole enclosure of the temple is seven hundred and -seventy _meu_ (somewhat less than an English acre) and eight-tenths. -To the southward, towards Chin Van San, are two hundred and -twenty-six _meu_. Eastward, to the boundary of Chin Sien Seng, are -two hundred and thirty-four _meu_ and eight-tenths. In the centre is -the ground of Hoo Kin Te. Westward, as far as the land of She Hon -Hoa, are one hundred and twenty _meu_. And northward, to the land of -Lien Sien Song, are one hundred and eighty _meu_. - -“Viewing, therefore, this History of the Glazed Tower, may it not be -considered as the work of a Divinity? Who shall perform the like? - -“Lately, on the fifteenth day of the fifth moon, of the fifth year of -Kia King, at four in the morning, the God of Thunder, in his pursuit -of a monstrous dragon, followed it into this temple, struck three of -the sides of the fabric, and materially damaged the ninth story; but -the strength and majesty of the God of the temple are most potent, -and the laws of Fo are not subject to change. The tower, by his -influence, was therefore saved from entire destruction. The Viceroy -and the Foo-Yen reported the circumstance to his imperial majesty; -and, on the sixth day of the second moon of the seventh year, the -restoration of the damaged parts was commenced, and on the nineteenth -day of the fifth moon the repairs were completed. - -“On the twenty-ninth day of the sixth moon of the twelfth year of his -present majesty, at four in the afternoon, on a sudden there fell -a heavy shower of rain, and the God of Thunder again rushed forth -in front of the tower, and, penetrating the roof, pursued the great -dragon from the top to the bottom. The glazed porcelain tiles of the -sixth story were much damaged, and where the God of Thunder issued -out at the great gate several of the boards taken from the wood of -the heavenly flower-tree were broken. Thus, the God of Thunder, -having finally driven away the monstrous dragon, returned to his -place in the heavens. - -“The priests of the temple reported the event to the local -authorities, and the officer Hen submitted the report to his Imperial -Majesty, and awaited the issue of the sums required to defray the -charge of the repairs. The gates of the tower have been closed for a -year while the interior has been repairing. - - “‘Deny not the presence of a God—a God there is; - He sounds his dread thunder, and all the world trembles.’” - -Such is the singular register of the Porcelain Pagoda at Nankin. -The terraced mountains have been often mentioned as another wonder -of China; but recent travellers declare that these enterprises are -exceedingly few in the “flowery” land. - -To revert to Europe; the great difficulty is to select the themes of -Enterprise. Here is one, however, of a somewhat rude, but yet highly -adventurous, and also highly useful kind. It is a sketch of a Swiss -wonder—the famous “Slide of Alpnach.” - -For many centuries the rugged flanks and deep gorges of Mount Pilatus -were covered by impenetrable forests; lofty precipices encircled -them on all sides. Even the daring hunters were scarcely able to -reach them, and the inhabitants of the valley never conceived the -idea of disturbing them with the axe. These immense forests were -therefore allowed to grow and perish, the most intelligent and -skilful considering it quite impracticable to avail themselves of -such inaccessible stores. - -In November, 1816, Mr. John Rulph, of Rentingen, and three other -Swiss gentlemen, entertaining more sanguine hopes, drew up a plan -of a slide, founded on trigonometrical measurements; and, having -purchased a certain extent of the forests from the commune of Alpnach -for 6000 crowns, began the construction of it. - -The slide of Alpnach was formed of about 25,000 large pine trees, -deprived of their bark, and united together without the aid of iron. -It occupied about one hundred and sixty workmen during eighteen -months, and cost nearly one hundred thousand francs, or 4166_l._ It -was about three leagues, or 44,000 English feet long, and terminated -in the Lake of Lucerne. It had the form of a trough about six feet -broad, and from three to six deep. Its bottom was formed of three -trees, the middle one of which had a groove cut out in the direction -of its length, for receiving small rills of water for the purpose -of diminishing the friction. The whole slide was sustained by about -two thousand supports, and in many places was attached in a very -ingenious manner to the rugged precipices of granite. The direction -of the slide was sometimes straight and sometimes zigzag, with an -inclination of from ten to eighteen degrees. It was often carried -along the sides of precipitous rocks, and sometimes over their -summits; occasionally it passed underground, and at other times over -the deep gorges by scaffoldings one hundred and twenty feet high. - -Before any step could be taken in its erection it was necessary -to cut several thousand trees to obtain a passage through the -impenetrable thickets; and as the workmen advanced, men were posted -at certain distances in order to point out the road for their return. -Mr. Rulph was often obliged to be suspended by cords, in order to -descend precipices many hundred feet high, to give directions, having -scarcely two good carpenters among his men, they having been hired as -the occasion offered. - -All difficulties being at length surmounted, the larger pines, which -were about one hundred feet long, and ten inches thick at their -smaller extremity, ran through the space of _three leagues_, or -_nearly nine miles_, in _three minutes and a half_; and, during their -descent, appeared to be only a few feet in length. The arrangements -were extremely simple. Men were posted at regular distances along -the slide, and as soon as everything was ready the man at the bottom -called out to the next one above him, “_Lachez!_”—Let go! The cry -was repeated, and reached the top of the slide in three minutes; the -man at the top of the slide then cried out to the one below, “_Il -vient!_”—It comes! As soon as the tree had reached the bottom, and -plunged into the lake, the cry of “_Lachez!_” was repeated as before. -By these means a tree descended every five or six minutes. When a -tree, by accident, escaped from the trough of the slide, it often -penetrated by its thickest extremity from eighteen to twenty-four -feet into the earth, and if it struck another tree, it cleft it with -the rapidity of lightning. - -Such was the enterprising work undertaken and executed under the -direction of a single individual. This wondrous structure, however, -no longer exists, and scarcely a tree is to be seen on the flanks -of Mount Pilatus. Political events having taken away the demand -for timber, and another market having been found, the operation of -cutting and transporting the trees necessarily ceased. - -Let us now glance at the enterprise of erecting a more durable -monument. Russia, proud of her Czar, the celebrated Peter the Great, -wished to erect a monument to his memory. Catherine the Second was -the monarch who had the direction of the work, and her choice for an -artist fell upon M. Falconet, who, in his conception of an equestrian -statue, resolved that the subordinate parts should bear an equal -impress of genius. “The pedestals in general use,” he observed, -“had no distinctive feature, and adapt themselves equally well to -any subject. Being of so universal application they suggest no new -or elevated thoughts to the beholder.” Falconet wished to make the -Czar appear as the father and legislator of his people—great and -extraordinary in everything—undertaking and completing that which -others were unable to imagine. To carry out this conception a -precipitous rock was fixed on for the pedestal, on which the statue -should appear with characteristics distinguishing it from those -erected to other sovereigns. - -Falconet’s first idea was to form this pedestal of six masses of -rock, bound together with bars of iron or copper; but the objection -was urged, that the natural decay of the bands would cause a -disruption of the various parts, and present a ruinous aspect, while -it would be difficult to insure perfect uniformity in the quality and -appearance of the different blocks. The next proposal was to form it -of one whole rock; but this appeared impossible, and in a report to -the senate it was stated that the expense would be so enormous as -almost to justify the abandonment of the undertaking. At length it -was resolved to bring to the city of St. Petersburg the largest rock -that could be found, cost what it might. - -The search for a huge mass of rock was begun, but the whole summer -was passed in vain exploration. The idea of forming the pedestal of -several pieces had again been entertained, when an immense stone was -discovered near Cronstadt, which it was determined to use as the -principal mass. Various mechanics having been applied to, refused -to undertake the task of removing this stone, as did likewise the -Russian Admiralty. - -Fortunately for M. Falconet, he was acquainted with a native of -Cephalonia, who had assumed the name of Lascary, and who, while -serving in the corps of cadets, had given high proofs of mechanic -skill. Lascary had all along strenuously recommended the adoption of -the original design, and now undertook the formation of the pedestal. -A few days after his appointment to this commission he received -information from a peasant of a large rock lying in a marsh near a -bay in the Gulf of Finland, about twenty miles from St. Petersburg -by water. The stone was examined, and the base, by sounding around -it, was found to be flat. It was a parallelopipedon in form, and -was forty-two feet long, twenty-seven feet wide, and twenty-one -feet high. These were dimensions sufficiently extensive to realise -the conceptions of M. Falconet. The authorities, when the mass was -beheld, again recommended its being cut into separate portions for -convenient removal. The Empress Catherine and her minister Betzky, -were, however, on the side of Lascary, and orders were imperatively -given to commence the strange enterprise. - -The resolution was taken by M. Lascary to remove the stone without -the use of rollers, as these not only present a long surface, which -increases the friction and thereby impedes speed, but are not easily -made of the great diameter that would have been required owing to -the soft and yielding nature of the ground on which the work was to -be performed. Spherical bodies, revolving in a metallic groove, were -then chosen as the means of transport. These offered many advantages; -their motion is more prompt than that of rollers, with a less degree -of friction, as they present but small points of contact. Beams -of wood, of a foot square, and thirty-three feet in length, were -then prepared; one side was hollowed in the form of a gutter, and -lined, the sides being convex to the thickness of two inches, with -a composition of copper and tin. Balls of the same composite metal, -five inches in diameter, were then made, to bear only on the bottom -of the groove. These beams were intended to be placed on the ground -in a line in front of the stone, while upon them were reversed two -other beams prepared in a similar manner, each forty-two feet long -and one foot and a half square, connected as a frame by stretchers -and bars of iron fourteen feet in length, carefully secured by nuts, -screws, and bolts. - -A load of three thousand pounds, when placed on the working model -(which had been first constructed) was found to move with ease. -Betzky, the minister, was pleased with the exhibition of the model; -but the crowds who came to witness it cried, “A mountain upon eggs!” -But Lascary was not to be driven from his purpose, so intelligently -formed, by a little unthinking clamour. - -The rock lay in a wild and deserted part of the country, and -therefore the first thing to be done was to build barracks capable -of accommodating four hundred labourers, artisans, and others. -These, with M. Lascary, were all lodged on the spot, as the readiest -means of forwarding the work. From the rock to the river Neva a line -of road was then cleared a distance of six versts, or twenty-one -thousand English feet, to a width of one hundred and twenty feet, in -order to gain space for the various operations and to give a free -circulation of air, so essential to the health of workmen in a marshy -district, as well as to the drying and freezing of the ground—a -point of much importance when the enormous weight to be removed is -considered. The operation of disinterring the rock was commenced in -December, when the influence of the frosts began to be felt. It was -embedded to the depth of fifteen feet; the excavation required to -be of great width—eighty-four feet all round—to admit of turning the -stone, which did not lie in the most favourable position for removal. -An inclined plane, six hundred feet in length, was afterwards made, -by means of which, when the stone was turned, it might be drawn up to -the level surface. - -Objectors said it would be impossible to place the monster mass of -rock upon the machine destined to transport it; but Lascary was -still unshaken. Preferring simplicity to complication, he resolved -to employ ordinary levers, known technically as levers of the first -order. These were made of three masts, each sixty-five feet in -length, and a foot and a half in diameter at the larger end, firmly -bound together. To lessen the difficulty of moving these, triangles -of thirty feet high were erected, with windlasses attached near the -base, from which a cord, passing through a pulley at the top, was -fastened to the smaller end of the lever, which being drawn up to the -top of the triangle, was ready for the operation of turning; each of -these levers was calculated to raise a weight of two hundred thousand -pounds. - -A row of piles had been driven into the ground at the proper distance -from the stone on one side, to serve as a fulcrum; and on the other a -series of piles were disposed as a platform, to prevent the sinking -of the mass on its descent. Twelve levers, with three men to each, -were stationed at the side to be lifted, and the lower extremities -being placed under the mass, the upper ends were drawn downwards by -the united action of the twelve windlasses. When the stone rose to -the height of a foot, beams and wedges were then driven underneath -to maintain it in that position, while the levers were arranged for -a second lift. To assist the action of the levers, large iron rings -were soldered into the upper corner of the rock, from which small -cables were passed to four capstans, each turned by thirty-six men, -thus maintaining a steady strain, while the stone was prevented from -returning to its original position when the levers were shifted. -These operations were repeated until the rock was raised nearly to -an equipoise, when cables from six other capstans were attached to -the opposite side, to guard against a too sudden descent; and as a -further precaution against fracture, a bed six feet in thickness, of -hay and moss intermingled, was placed to receive the rock, on which -it was at length happily laid. As it was of great importance that all -the workmen should act at one and the same time, two drummers were -stationed on the top of the stone, who, at a sign from the engineer, -gave the necessary signals on their drums, and secured the certainty -of order and precision in the various operations. - -The machinery for the removal had, in the meantime, been finished. Of -the lower grooved beams already described, six pairs were prepared, -so that when the rock had advanced over one pair they might be drawn -forward and placed in a line in advance of the foremost, without -interrupting the movements. The balls were laid in the grooves two -feet apart; the upper frame, intended as the bed for the rock, placed -above. The mass, weighing in its original form four millions of -pounds, or nearly eighteen hundred tons, was then raised by means of -powerful screws, and deposited on the frame, when it was drawn up -the inclined plane by the united force of six capstans. The road did -not proceed in a direct line to the river, owing to the soft state -of portions of the marsh. It was impossible in many places to reach -a firm foundation with piles fifty feet in length. This naturally -added to the difficulties of the transport, as the direction of the -draught had frequently to be changed. Piles were driven along the -whole line on both sides, at distances of three hundred feet apart; -to these the cables were made fast, while the capstans revolved, two -of which were found sufficient to draw the stone on a level surface, -while on unequal ground four were required. From five hundred to -twelve hundred feet were got over daily, which, when regard is had -to the short winter days of five hours in that high latitude, may be -considered as rapid. - -So interesting was the spectacle of the enormous mass when moving, -with the two drummers at their posts, the forge erected on it -continually at work, and forty workmen constantly employed in -reducing it to a regular form, that the empress and the court visited -the spot to see the novel sight; and notwithstanding the rigour of -the season, crowds of persons of all ranks went out every day as -spectators. Small flat sledges were attached to each side of the -stone by ropes, on which were seated men provided with iron levers, -whose duty it was to prevent the balls, of which fifteen on a side -were used, from striking against each other and thus impeding the -motion. The tool-house was also attached, and moved with the stone, -in order that everything might be ready to hand when wanted. Balls -and grooves of cast-iron were tried, but this material crumbled into -fragments as readily as if made with clay. No metal was found to -bear the weight so well as the mixture of copper and tin, and even -with this the balls were sometimes flattened and the grooves curled -up when the pressure by any accident became unequal. The utility of -rollers was also tried; but with double the number of capstans and -the power, the cables broke, while the stone did not advance one inch. - -Suddenly the enterprise was checked by the sinking of the stone -to a depth of eighteen inches in the road, to the chagrin of the -engineer, who was suffering under a severe attack of marsh fever. -Lascary, however, was not disheartened, and speedily remedied the -accident, spite of the idle clamours of the multitude; and in six -weeks from the time of first drawing the stone from its bed, he had -the satisfaction of seeing it safely deposited on the temporary wharf -built for the purpose of embarkation on the banks of the river, when -the charge fell into the hands of the Admiralty, who had undertaken -the transport by water to the city. - -The Russian Admiralty had ordered a vessel or barge one hundred and -eighty feet in length, sixty-six feet in width, and seventeen feet -from deck to keel, to be built, with every appliance that skill could -suggest to render it capable of supporting the enormous burthen. -Great precautions were now necessary to prevent the rock falling -into the stream. Water was let into the vessel until she sank to -the bottom of the river, which brought her deck on a level with the -wharf; the rock was then drawn on board by means of two capstans -placed on the deck of another vessel anchored at some distance from -the shore. Pumps and buckets were now brought into use to clear -the barge of the water with which she had been filled; but, to -the surprise and consternation of those engaged, she did not rise -equally; the centres bearing most of the weight remained at the -bottom, while the head and stern springing up gave to the whole the -form of a sharp curve; the timbers gave way, and, the seams opening, -the water re-entered rapidly; four hundred men were then set to bale, -in order that every part might be simultaneously cleared; but the -curve became greater in proportion to the diminution of the internal -volume of water. - -Lascary, who, from the time the rock had been placed on the deck of -the vessel, had been a simple spectator of these operations, which -occupied two weeks, now received orders to draw it again upon the -wharf. He immediately applied himself to remedy the error, which -had been committed in not distributing the weight equally, without -removing the stone. He first caused the head and stern of the barge -to be loaded with large stones, until they sank to a level with -the centre; the rock was then raised by means of screws and beams -of timber, diverging to every part of the vessel, placed under and -against it, and, on the removal of the screws, the pressure being -equal in every part, she regained her original form. The water -was next pumped out, the stones removed from the head and stern, -and a ship lashed on each side of the barge, which on the 22nd of -September, 1769, arrived opposite the quay where it was intended to -erect the statue. The rock was raised from the spot where it was -first found at the end of March preceding. - -The debarkation—not the least hazardous part of the enterprise—had -yet to be accomplished. As the river was here of a greater depth than -at the place of embarkation, rows of piles had been driven into the -bottom alongside the quay, and cut off level at a distance of eight -feet below the surface. On these the barge was rested; to prevent -the recurrence of the rising of the head and stern when the supports -should be removed, three masts lashed together, crossing the deck at -each extremity, were secured to the surface of the quay. It was then -feared that, as the rock approached the shore, the vessel might heel -and precipitate it into the river. This was obviated by fixing six -other masts to the quay, which projected across the whole breadth -of the deck, and were made fast to a vessel moored outside, thus -presenting a counterpoise to the weight of the stone. The grooved -beams were laid ready, the cables secured, and, at the moment of -removing the last support, the drummers beat the signal, the men -at the capstans ran round with a cheer, the barge heeled slightly, -which accelerated the movement, and in an instant the rock was safety -landed on the quay. - -The whole expense of the removal of this gigantic rock was about -70,000 roubles, or 14,000_l._, while the materials which remained -were worth two-thirds of the sum. - -[Illustration: Horse and rider statue] - -Dr. Granville, in his “Travels to St. Petersburg,” describing the -public promenade in front of the Admiralty in that city, says, “Here -the colossal equestrian statue of the founder of this magnificent -city, placed on a granite rock, seems to command the undivided -attention of the stranger. On approaching the rock, the simple -inscription fixed on it in bronze letters, ‘Petro Primo, Catherina -Secunda, MDCCLXXXII,’ meets the eye. The same inscription in the -Russian language appears on the opposite side. The area is inclosed -within a handsome railing placed between granite pillars. The idea of -Falconet, the French architect, commissioned to erect an equestrian -statue to the extraordinary man at whose command a few scattered -huts of fishermen were converted into palaces, was to represent the -hero as conquering, by enterprise and personal courage, difficulties -almost insurmountable. This the artist imagined might be properly -represented by placing Peter on a fiery steed which he is supposed -to have taught by skill, management, and perseverance, to rush up a -steep and precipitous rock, to the very brink of the precipice, over -which the animal and the imperial rider pause, without fear, and in -an attitude of triumph. The horse rears with his fore-feet in the -air, and seems to be impatient of restraint, while the sovereign, -turned towards the island, surveys with calm and serene countenance -his capital rising out of the waters, over which he extends the hand -of protection. The bold manner in which the group has been made to -rest on the hind legs of the horse only, is not more surprising than -the skill with which advantage is taken of the allegorical figure of -the serpent of envy spurned by the horse, to assist in upholding so -gigantic a mass. This monument of bronze is said to have been cast at -a single jet. The head was modelled by Mademoiselle Calot, a female -artist of great merit, a contemporary of Falconet, and is admitted to -be a strong resemblance of Peter the Great. The height of the figure -of the emperor is eleven feet; that of the horse seventeen feet. -The bronze is in the thinnest parts the fourth of an inch only, and -one inch in the thickest part; the general weight of metal in the -group is equal to 36,636 English pounds. I heard a venerable Russian -nobleman, who was living at St. Petersburg when this monument was in -progress, relate that as soon as the artist had formed his conception -of the design he communicated it to the empress, together with the -impossibility of representing to nature so striking a position of -man and animal, without having before his eyes a horse and rider in -the attitude he had devised. General Melissino, an officer having -the reputation of being the most expert as well as boldest rider of -the day, to whom the difficulties of the architect were made known, -offered to ride daily one of Count Alexis Orloff’s best Arabians -out of that nobleman’s stud, to the summit of a steep artificial -mound formed for the purpose, accustoming the horse to gallop up to -it and to halt suddenly, with his fore-legs raised, pawing the air -over the brink of a precipice. This dangerous experiment was carried -into effect by the general for some days, in the presence of several -spectators, and of Falconet, who sketched the various movements and -parts of the groups from day to day, and was thus enabled to produce -perhaps the finest—certainly the most correct—statue of the kind in -Europe.” - -It thus appears that _enterprise_ characterised not only Lascary, -the engineer, but Falconet, the artist, Melissino, the officer who -undertook to depict the living model, and in brief, the entire deed -from beginning to end. How strikingly might the parallel be continued -with Peter himself! The young reader will find the history of the -Czar, which he can peruse in various forms, pregnant with lessons -of enterprise to a degree beyond that of any modern man, with the -exception of Napoleon. In both their histories, however, we are -compelled to remind him, there is much to censure; and in the history -of the latter especially, much more to censure than to praise. - -[Illustration: Napoleon] - -If our own country be viewed with strictness, it will be found -that we have no great work of ornamental enterprise simply, at all -comparable to the one just sketched. Russia, nevertheless, can bear -no comparison with England in point of useful enterprises; she has -nothing, for instance, like the Eddystone light-house or the Plymouth -breakwater. A few brief sentences will serve to sketch the former. - -The first light-house built on the Eddystone rock was constructed by -Winstanley, in 1696 to 1700. While some repairs were making under -his inspection, the building was blown down in a terrible hurricane, -during the night of the 26th of November, 1703, and he and his -workmen perished. Not a vestige, except some iron stanchions and a -chain, was left behind. - -Rudyerd, in 1706, erected another, which was destroyed by fire, in -1755; it was entirely of wood, except the five lower courses of -stone, on the rock. - -The present edifice is a circular tower of stone sweeping up with a -gentle curve from the base, and gradually diminishing to the top, -somewhat similar to the swelling of the trunk of a tree. The tower -is furnished with a door and windows, and a staircase and ladders -for ascending to the lantern, through the apartments of those who -keep watch. Mr. Smeaton undertook the arduous task of constructing -the present light-house, in the spring of 1756, and completed it -in about three years. In order to form his foundation, Smeaton -accurately measured the very irregular surface of the rock, and made -a model of it. Granite partially worked, forms the foundation; every -outside piece is grafted into the rock, to sustain more effectually -the action of the sea; a border of three inches effects also a kind -of socket for the foundation. Each course of masonry is dovetailed -together, in the most skilful manner, and each layer of masonry is -strongly cemented together and connected by oaken plugs, and the -whole strongly cramped. The general weight of the stones employed is -a ton, and some few are two tons. In the solid work the centre stones -were fixed first, and all the courses were fitted on a platform and -accurately adjusted before they were removed to the rock. - -The base of the tower is about twenty-six feet nine inches in -diameter; the diameter at the top of the solid masonry is about -nineteen feet nine inches; and the height of the solid masonry is -thirteen feet from the foundation. The height of the tower from the -centre of the base is sixty-one feet seven inches; the lantern, the -base of which is stone, is twenty-four feet. The whole height is -eighty-five feet seven inches; and the Eddystone light-house has -not only the merit of utility, but also of beauty, strength, and -originality, and is itself sufficient to immortalise the name of the -architect. - -[Illustration: Lighthouse] - -The Breakwater thrown across Plymouth Sound is another of the great -useful enterprises of Britain. Mr. Rennie was the distinguished -engineer appointed to perform this work. He knew that to resist the -force of the heavy sea which rolls into the Sound from the south and -south-west, a very considerable slope would be necessary for the -breakwater, and accordingly, it is so constructed. He also perceived -that great masses of stones from one to ten tons each would be -required. - -The quarries from which these were procured are situated at Oreston -on the eastern shore of Catwater; they lie under a surface of about -twenty-five acres, and were purchased from the Duke of Bedford for -£10,000. They consist of one vast mass of compact close-grained -marble, many specimens of which are beautifully variegated; seams of -clay, however, are interspersed through the rock, in which there are -large cavities, some empty, and others partially filled with clay. In -one of these caverns in the solid rock, fifteen feet wide, forty-five -feet long, and twelve feet deep, filled nearly with compact clay, -were found imbedded fossil bones belonging to the rhinoceros, being -portions of the skeletons of three different animals, all of them in -the most perfect state of preservation, every part of their surface -being entire to a degree which Sir Everard Home said he had never -observed in specimens of that kind before. The part of the cavity in -which these bones were found was seventy feet below the surface of -the solid rock, sixty feet horizontally from the edge of the cliff -where it was first begun to work the quarry, and one hundred and -sixty feet from the original edge of the Catwater. Every side of the -cavern was solid rock, the inside had no incrustation of stalactite, -nor was there any external communication through the rock in which -it was imbedded, nor any appearance of an opening from above being -closed by infiltration. When, therefore, and in what manner these -bones came into that situation, is among the secret and wonderful -operations of nature which will probably never be revealed to mankind. - -M. Dupin, an intelligent observer of our great naval and commercial -enterprises gives the following description of the working of the -quarries from which the Breakwater stone was procured. - -“The sight of the operations which I have just described, those -enormous masses of marble that the quarry-men strike with heavy -strokes of their hammers; and those aerial roads or flying bridges -which serve for the removal of the superstratum of earth; those lines -of cranes all at work at the same moment; the trucks all in motion; -the arrival, the loading, and the departure of the vessels; all this -forms one of the most imposing sights that can strike a friend to -the great works of art. At fixed hours, the sound of a bell is heard -in order to announce the blastings of the quarry. The operations -instantly cease on all sides, the workmen retire; all becomes silence -and solitude; this universal silence renders still more imposing the -sound of the explosion, the splitting of the rocks, their ponderous -fall, and the prolonged sound of the echoes.” - -These huge blocks of stone were conveyed from the quarries on trucks, -along iron railways, to the quays, and from thence into the holds of -the vessels built expressly for the purpose. On their arrival over -the line of the Breakwater, they are discharged from the trucks by -means of what is called a _typing-frame_, at the stern of the vessel, -which, falling like a trap-door, lets the stone into the sea. In this -manner a cargo of sixteen trucks, or eighteen tons, may be discharged -in the space of forty or fifty minutes. Two millions of tons of -stone, and one million sterling in money, was the calculation made at -the outset, as requisite to complete this great national work. - -[Illustration: Train tunnel] - - - - -CONCLUSION. - - -To describe, even by a single sentence each, the great enterprises of -England—her harbours, bridges, canals, railways, mines, manufactures, -shipping—would occupy volumes. Suffice it to say that our country has -become more and more the land of Enterprise. This, indeed, must be -the grand characteristic of the civilised world, universally, if the -old and evil passion for war be not renewed. - -In bygone ages the only path to prosperity for nations was supposed -to be war. Nations seemed to think that without military “glory” -they could not be great. Modern nations patterned by the ancient; -every page of modern history, as well as ancient, is tilled with -battles and successes. The farther we look back, the more we find it -true, that violence led to splendour and renown. Much is told of the -magnificence of the Eastern empires; but far above the glory of the -temples of Tadmor, and the gardens of Babylon, rises the glory of -Eastern conquerors on the page of history. Of all that is recorded -of Egyptian labour and Corinthian wealth, nothing equals in fame -their contemporary warriors. The trade and merchants of Athens were -not without profit to her; but to Marathon and Platæa, to Salamis -and Mycale, she owes the admiration which the majority in later -ages have paid her. Sparta flourished, though condemned to idleness, -except in war and theft. The trade of Carthage fell before the sword -of Rome, and not all the wares that heathen nations ever fabricated, -gave a twentieth part of the power which the soldiers of the republic -won. - -Gradually, the truth dawns upon the world that war is an evil -immeasurable; that military glory is a false and destructive light; -and that the grandest enterprises are those which serve to increase -the comfort, happiness, and knowledge of the race. Let the young -reader bid success to such enterprises, and enter into their spirit -with all his energy. To be engaged—to be busy—to be earnestly at -work, he will find to be one of the chief sources of happiness; -and to pass life honourably and worthily, it is not only the duty, -but the privilege, of well-nigh every native of our own and other -civilised countries, to render existence a series of the “TRIUMPHS OF -ENTERPRISE.” - -[Illustration: Decoration] - - -William Stevens, Printer, 37, Bell Yard, Temple Bar. - - - - - Transcriber’s Notes - - pg 5 Added period after: classic story of “Meleager,” which is - acted in the school - pg 25 Added comma after picture title: SPENSER - pg 31 Changed Such attainments can only be reached by the most - determined desciple to: disciple - pg 35 Removed repeated word and from: and I could multiply - and and divide - pg 45 Changed title from: CHAPTER II. to: CHAPTER III. - pg 47 Changed attract notice from the chief of the patrican - to: patrician - pg 58 Changed in the slightest degree, apear to: appear - pg 63 Changed combined with almost volanic to: volcanic - pg 86 Added comma after title: SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT - pg 91 Changed Guttemberg the inventor of printing to: Gutenberg - pg 145 Changed Without Enterprise there would have been no - civilzation to: civilization - pg 230 Added quote before: the more I was eager to see.” - pg 236 Changed “On my return to Cairo,” says he, “I againt to: again - Left different spellings of Shakspeare as written - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRIUMPHS OF PERSEVERANCE -AND ENTERPRISE *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - 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 will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this eBook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format -other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain -Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -provided that: - -• You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation.” - -• You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ - works. - -• You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -• You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right -of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you “AS-IS”, WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ - -Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™'s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |