Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive in 2007 witii funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation Iittp://www.arcliive.org/details/biograpliicaldict03cliam ^/t V VISCOUNT CAMHERD0WN,«cc.8:c ^]> 4 ,.A \ -y^/}^^ ^Y ^ ^^' ,4 i ^ -Jl JA3) Mtrihr Llllv! 3) J/^ v_:, 4 f^M .A-:^ \ i^A A c J v. V. A^^jL :- /\^ ri i. vV ^^-^^^ ^ OF n ^mT;^,WIRH, WITff MUMEROUS AUTHENTIC PORTRAITS, VOLUME \L BfADSHAW. S'T AN D Px E W S BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARI EMINENT SCOTSMEN. KDITED BY ROBERT CHAMBERS, ONE OF THE EDITORS Of ' CHAMBEKs'S EDIISBUKGH JOUTUTAL.' NEW EDITION. REVISED AND CONTINUED TO THE TRESENT TIME. ^YITH NUMEROUS PORTRAITS. DIVISION III. , I »ALRYMPLE — FORDYCE. j|- BLACKIE AND SON: GLx\SGOW, EDINBURGH, AND LONDON. TJDCCCLIII. GLASGOW: >T. '!. BLACKIF AND CO , FRINTKRS VM.LAllKLIl. * EEVo S PRINCIPAL OP MAK: BLACBIE & SON , GIlASGOW; EDINBURGH & LONBOH. :awthob.di: •■H St LONDON. iL:iori"ed "b— Geijr^e B. Siav: i^^i¥«d iy , Lt AiriHOROF "the mST: BLACKIE &. SON , GLASGOW, EDDJBORC-H & LOUDON L- ::v. . Y 1H10ME. 1,0K; KAMI' !■. ^- .'■ :i -LAI- ^*^r- JOHN DALUYMPLE. so much ilistinction. But, on returning in 1701, from liis continental travels, be accepted a conuuission as lieutenant-colonel of the Scottish regiment of foot srnarils. In the succeeding year, he served as aid-de-taiiip to the duke of Marl- borough at the taking of Venlo and Liege, and the attack on Peer. In the i-.ourse of ITOii, he successively obtained the command of the Cameronian regi- ment and the Scots IVreys. His father dying suddenly, January S. 1707, he succeeded to the family titles, and was next month cliosen one of the Scottish representative peers in the tirst British parliament. In the subsequent victories of 31arlborough — ^Oudenarde, 3Ialplaquet, and ILnnilies — the earl of Stair held high command, and gained great distinction. But the accession of the tory ministry, in 1711, while it stopped the glorious career of ^larlborough, also put a check upon his sernces. He found it necessarj- to sell his command of the Sc^ts Greys, and retire from the army. As one who had thus suffered in the behalf of the protestant succession, the earl was entitled to some consideration, when that was secured by the accession of George I. He was. on that o<:casion. appointed to be a lord of the bed-chamber, and a privj- councillor, and constituted commander-in-chief of the forces in Scotland, in the absence of the duke of Argyle. Next year he was sent as ambassador to France, with the difficult task of conciliating the aovernment of the duke of Orleans to the new dynasty of Britain, It is allowed on all hands that his lord- ship conducted this business with unexampled address and dignity, his diploma- tic skill being only equalled by the external splendours of his cortege. Unfor- tunately, his usefulness was destroyed in 1719, by the ^lississippi enthusiasm. His lordship couid not stoop to flatter his countrjman, 3Ir Law, then comptroller- general of the French finances, but whom he probably recollected as a somewhat disreputable adventurer on the streets of Edinburgh. Ihe British government, finding that the hostility of this powerful person injured their interests, found it necessary —if a mean action can ever be necessary — to recal the earl of Stair, notwithstanding their high sense of his meritorious services. He returned to his native country in 1720, and tor the next t>venty-two years lived in retirement, at his beautiful seat of Ne\vliston, near Edinburgh, where he is said to have planted several gi'oups of trees in a manner designed to represent the aiTange- ment of the British troops at one of 3Iarlborough's victories. He also turned his mind to agriculture, a science then just beginning to be a little underetood in Scotland, and it is a well attested fact, that he was the first in this country to plant turnips and cabbages in the open fields. On the dissolution of the Wal- pole administration in 1742, his lordship ^vas called by the king from his retirement, appointed field-marshal, and sent as ambassador and plenipotentiary to Holland, He was almost at the same time nominated to the government of Minorca. In the same year, he was sent to take the supreme command of the army in Flanders, which he held till the king himself arrived to put himself at the head of the troops. His lordship served under the king at the battle of Dettinsen, June 16, 1743 ; but, to use the indignant language of lord West- moreland, in alluding to the case in parliament, he was reduced to the condition of a statue with a truncheon in its hand, in consequence of the preference shown by his majesty for the Hanoverian officers. Finding himself at onc« in a highly responsible situation, and yet disabled to act as a free agent, he resigned his command, France, taking advantage of the distraction of the British councils respecting the painialitj of his majesty for Hanoverian councils, next yeai- threatened an invasion : and the earl of Stair came spontaneously forward, and, on mere grounds of patriotism, offered to serve in any station. He was now- appointed connuander-in-chief of the forces in Great Britain, In the succeed- ing year, his brother-in-law. Sir James Campbell, being killed at the ijnttle of 58 THOMAS DALYELL. Fontenoy, the earl was appointed liis successor in the colonelcy of the Scots Greys, a command he liad been deprived of thirty-one years bel'ore by queen Anne. His last appointment was to the command of tlie marine forces, in 3Iay 174(). His lorilship dietl at Quecnsberry-house, lOdinburgli, on the 9lh of^Jay, 171(7, and was buried with public iionours in iho church at Kirkliston. It is matter of just surprise, that no monument has ever been orectevas so nmch indebted to him, nor by his ownl'amily, ^\hich derives such lustre from his com- mon name. His lordship left a \vidow witi)out children : namely, lady Eleanor Ciunpbell, grand-daughter of the lord chancellor Loudoun, and who had previously been married to the viscount Primrose. DALYELL, Thomas, an eminent cavalier oflicer, was the son of Thomas Dal- yell, ()f Binns, in west Lothian, whom he succeeded in that properly. The Liirds of Blnns are understood to have been descended from the family after- vas a nwn of humour, he would always tJiank them for their civilities, when he left them at the door to go into tlie king ; and would let tliem know exactly at what hour he intended to come out again and return to his lodgings. When the king walked in the park, attended by some of his courtiei-s, and Ualyell in his company, the same crowds would always be after him, showing their admiration at his beard and dress, so that the king could hardly pass on for the crowd ; upon which his majesty bid the devil take Ualyell, for bringing such a rabble of boys together, to have their guts squeezed out, whilst they gaped at his long beard and antic habit ; re- (juesting him at the same time (as Dalyell used to express it) to shave and dress like other christians, to keep the poor bairns out of danger. All this could never prevail upon him to part with his beard ; but yet, in compliance to his majesty, lie went once to court in tiie very height of fiishion ; but as soon as the king and those about him had laughed sufficiently at the strange figure he made, he reassumed his usual habit, to the great jr>y of the boys, who had not discovered him in his fashionable dress." Memoirs of Captain Cieichton, by Swift. On the accession of James VII, in 1GS5, Dalyell received a new and en- larged conunission to be commander-in-chief; but the tendency of the court to popery offended his conscience so grievously, that it is not probable he could have long retained the situation. Death, however, stepped in, and " rescued him," to use Creichton's language, " from the difficulties he was likely to be under, between the notions he had of duty to his prince on one side, and true zeal for his religion on the other." Ho died about 31ichaelmas, 16 85. A contemporary historian informs us, that " after he had procured himself a lasting name in the wars, he fixed his old age at Binns, his paternal inheritance, adorned by his excellence with avenues, largo parks, ajid fine gardens, and pleased himself with the culture of curious flowers and plants." His estate was inherited by a son of the same name, who was created a baronet of Nova Scotia, and was succeeded by a eing the first layman who liad ever helil tiiat lionoiiraltle ai»poiiitment. l''or some time before his death, the deli<^atc state of his heallli prevented him from performina' his public duties, when liis place was ably supplied I)y l)r Thomas Mackiii^lit, one of the city cler<;^ynien of l^idinburgh. He died on the yih December, i80(i, having for upwards of thirty ye.us shed a lustre on the university by his many virtues, his hioli talents, and great classical attainments. Hemarkable for many amiable qualities, and endowed with high talents, it may easily be s:ipposed that his society was the delight of his friends ; and as he had the good fortune to live during one of the brightest periods of Scottish literary history, when a galaxy of great men ndorned the society of Edinburgh, he included in the circle of his acquaintance many of the greatest men this country ever produced. Of the number of his intimate friends were Dr (Jilbert Stewart, Dr liussel the histo- rian, Sir l{obert Liston, Ur Hobertson the historian, Lord Monboddo, Dugald •Stewart, and professor Christison. Mr Dalzell, in his stature was about the middle height ; his features were full but not he.avy, with a fair complexion and a mild and serene expression of countenance, liis address was pleasing and unpretending, and his conversation and manner singularly graceful, lie was frequently to be met in his solitary walks in the king's park, which was one of his favourite lounges. He was married to the daughter of the well known Dr John Drysilale of the Tron church, and left several children. His works consist of the collections from Greek authoi-s, which he published in several volumes, under the title of " Collectanea Minora," and " Collectanea Majora," a translation of Chevalier's Description of the I'lain of Troy, and many valuable papers of biography, and on other subjects, which he contributed to the Edinburgh Royal Society's Transactions. He also edited Dr Drysdale's Sermons. DAVID I., a celebrated Scottish monarch, was the youngest of the six sons of 31alcolm HI,, who reigned between 1057, and 1(393, and who must be fa- miliar to every reader, as the overthrower of Macbeth, and also the first king of the Scots that was entitled to be considered as a civilized prince. The mo- ther of king David was 31argaret, the sister of Edgar Atheling, heir to the Saxon line of l*;nglish princes, but displaced by William the Conqueror. The year of David's birth is not known ; but it is conjectured to have been not long antecedent to the death of his father, as all his elder brothers were then under age. It is conjectured that he nmst have received the name of David, front having been born at a time when his mother had no hope of more children, in reference to the youngest son of Jesse. Owing to the usurpations of Donald Bane, and Duncan, lie spent his early years at the English court, under the pro- tection of Henry 1., who had married his sister Matilda or Maud, the celebrated founder of London bridge, 'lliere, according to an English historian, "his manners were polished from the rust of Scottish barbaril\." Here also he took to wife, iMatilda, the daughter of Waltheof, earl of Northumberland, and widow of Simon de St Liz, earl of Northampton. After the Scottish throne had been occupied successively by his elder brotliei-s, Edgar and Alexander, lie acceded to it on the 27th of April, 1 124, when he must have been in the very prime of life. Soon before this time, namely, in 1113, he had manifested that zeal for the church, which distinguished him throughout his reign, by bringing a colony of 15encdictine monks from Tyron, in Erance, whom lie settled at Selkirk. 'Ihese he subsequently translated to Roxburgh, and finally, 1128, to Kelso. In the latter year, besides founding the magnificent monastery of Kelso, he erected that of Holyrood at Edinburgh, which he endowed in the most liberal manner. During the reign of Henry 1., David maintained a good understanding with DAVID I. G3 England, and seems to have spent a considerable part of his time in the court of his brother-in-law and sister. The following curious anecdote of one of his visits, is related in a volume entitled " Remaines concerning Britain " published in 1614. "Queen Maud was so devoutly relii>ious, that she would i>o to church barel^ioted, and always exercised herself in works of charity, insomuch, that when king Uavid her brother came out of Scotland to visit her, he found her in her privy chamber wath a towell about her middle, washing, Aviping, and kissing poore people's feete ; which he disliking, said, ' verily, if the king your husband knew this, you should never kisse his lippcs!' She replied, ' that the feete of tiie king of heaven were to be preferred before the lippes of a king inearth!'" On the death of Henry, in 1135, his daughter Maud was dis- placed by the usurper Stephen, and, to enforce her right, David made a formi- dable incursion into England, taking possession of the country as far as Dur- ham. Not being supported, however, by the barons, who had sworn to main- tain his niece in her right, he was obliged, by the superior force of Stc[>hen, to give up the country hg had acquired, his son Henry, accepting at the same time, from tiie usurper, the honour of Huntingdon, with Doncaster, and the castle of Carlisle, for which he rendered homage. Next year, David made a new incursion, with better success. He is found in 1138 in full possession of the northern provinces, while Stephen was unable, from his engagements else- where, to present any force against him. The Scots ravaged tlie country with much cruelty, and particularly the domains of the church ; nor was their pious monarch able to restrain them. The local clergy, under these circumstances, employed all their influence, temporal and spiritual, to collect an army, and they at length succeeded. On the 23nd of August, 1138, the two parties met on Cutton Moor, near Northallerton, and to increase the enthusiasm of the English, their clerical leaders had erected a standard upon a high «%irriagc, mounted on wheels, exhibiting three consecrated banners, with a little casket at the top, containing a consecrated host. The ill-assorted army of the Scot- tish monarch gave way before the impetuosity of these men, who were literally defending their altars and hearths. This rencounter is known in history, as the battle of the Standard. Prince Henry escaped with great difliculty. Next year, David seems to have renounced all hopes of establishing his niece. He entered into a solemn treaty with Stephen, in virtue of which, the earldom of Northumberland was conceded to his son Henry. In 1140, when Stephen was overpowered by his subjects, and Maud experienced a temporary triumph, David repaired to London, to give her the benefit of his counsel. Uuta counter insur- rection surpi'ised Maud; and David had great difficulty in escaping along with his niece. He was only saved by the kindness of a young Scotsman, named Oli- phant, who served as a soldier under Stephen, and to whom David had been godfather. This person concealed the monarcli from a very strict search, and conveyed him in safety to Scotland. David was so much offended at the manner in which he had been treated by Maud, that he never again interfered with her affairs in England, for which he had already sacrificed so much. He was even struck with remorse, for having endeavoured, by the use of so barbarous a people as the Scots, to control the destinies of tlie civilized English, to whom, it would thus appear, he bore more affection than he did to his own native sub- jects. At one time, he intended to abdicate the crown, and go into perpetual exile in the holy land, in order to expiate this imaginary guilt; but he after- vtards contented himself with attempting to introdu<;e civilization into his coun- try. For this purpose, he encouraged many English gentlemen and barons to settle in Scotland, by giving them gi-ants of land. In like manner, he brought many different kinds of foreign monks into the country, settling them in the 64 JOHN DAVIDSON. various abbeys of Melrose, Newbottle, Cambiiskenneth, Kinloss, Drybiirgh, and Jedburifh, as well as the i>»iory of Lesiiialia<2^o, and the Cistercian convent of Berwiolc, all of which were founded and endowed by liini. The eflects which these comparatively enlightened bodies of men must have produced upon the country, ought to save David from all modern sneers as to his apparently ex- treme piety. Sanctimoniousness does not appear to have had any concern in the matter : lie seems to ha\ e been governed alone by a desire of civilizing his Uingdoni, the rudeness of which must have been strikingly apparent to him, in consequence of his education and long residence in England. The progress made by the country, in the time of David, was accordingly very great. Public buildingTs were erected, towns established, agricudture, nianufactiu-es, and com- mer<:e promoted. Laws, moi-eover, appear to have been now promulgated for the first time. David was himself a truly just and benevolent man. He used to sit on certain days at the gate of his palace, to hear and decide the causes of the poor. \\'hen justice required a decision against the poor man, he took pains to explain the reason, so that he might not go away unsatisHed. Garden- ing was one of his amusements, and hunting his chief exercise ; but, soys a contemporary historian, I have seen him quit his horse, and dismiss his hunting equipage, when any, even the meanest of his subjects, required an audience. He commenced business at day break, and at sunset dismissed his attendants, and retired to meditate on his duty to God and the people, Hy his wife, Ma- tilda, David had a son, Henry ; who died before him, leaving Malcolm and William, who were successively kings of Scotland ; David, earl of Huntingdon, from whom Bruce and Baliol are descended, and several daughters. David I. is said, by a monkish historian, to have had a son older than Henry, but who perished in <;hildhood after a remarkable manner. A pei-son in holy orders had nmrdered a priest at the altar, and was protected by ec(;lesiasticnl immunity from the punishment due to his offence. His eyes, however, were put out, and his hands and feet cut oft'. He procured crooked irons or hooks to supply the use of hands. Thus maimed, destitute, and abhorred, he attracted the attention of David, then residing in England as a private man, JVom him this outcast of society obtained food and raiment, David's eldest child was then two years old ; the ungrateful monster, under pre!ence of fondling the infant, crushed it to deatii in his iron fangs. For this crime, almost exceeding belief, he was torn to pieces by wild horses. On losing his son Henry in 11 52, king David sent his son IMalcolm on a solemn progress througli the kingdom, in order that he might be acknowledged by the people as their future sovereign. He in like manner recommended his grandson William to fhe barons of Northumberland, as his successor in that part of his dvho liad been engaged in this treasonable enterprise. IMontgoniery, who in the mean- while had made submission to the church, again revived his claim to the arch- bishopric of Glasgow, whereon 3Ir Davidson, then minister of Libberton, was appointed by the presbytery of Edinburgh to pronounce sentence of excom- nmnication against him ; which duty he performed with great boldness. He was also appointed one of the commission sent to Stirling to remonstrate with the king on account of this measure in favour of Montgomery. In consequence, however, of the faithfulness with which he had admonished hia majesty, Davidson found it expedient to make a hurried journey into England, where he remained for a considerable time. Having returned to Scotland, 3lr Davidson signalized himself in the year 1590, by his letter in answer to Dr Bancroft's attack on the church of Scot- land. In 15'.H), while minister of Prostonpans, he took an active part in ac- complishing the renewal of the national covenant. He Mas chosen to minister unto the assemblage of divines and eldei's which congregated for con- fession and prayer in the Little Church of Edinburgh, as a preparatory step to the introduction of the overtme for that purpose into the general assembh ; 66 JOHN DAVIDSON. and on this occasion "he was so assisted by the Spirit working upon their hearts, that within an hour after they had convened, they began to look with quite another countonauce tlian at first, and while he was exhorting them, the whole assembly melted into tears before him." " Before they dismissed, they solemnly entered into a new League and Covenant, holding up their hands, with such signs of sincerity as moved all present." And "that afternoon, the (general) assembly enacted the renewal of the covenant by particular synods." " There have been many days of humiliation for present judgments or imminent dangers ; but the like for sin and defection was never seen since the Reformation." — Calderwood's Church History. In the general assembly, held at Dundee in the year 1598, it was proposed that the clergy should vote in Parliament in the name of the church. Davidson, looking upon this measure as a mere device for the introduction of bishops, opposed it violently. "Busk, busk, busk him," he exclaimed, "as bonnily as you can, and fetch him in as fairly as you will, we see him weel enough — we can discern the horns of his mitre." He concluded by entreating the assembly not to be rash ; for, " brethren," said he, " see you not how readily the bishops begin to creep up." He would have protested against the measure — which, notwithstanding the efforts to pack the assembly, was carried only by a majority of ten — but the king, who was present, interposed and said, " That shall not be granted : see, if you have voted and reasoned before." " Never, Sir," said Davidson, " but without prejudice to any protestation made or to be made." He then tendered his protestation, which, after having been past from one to another, was at last laid down before the clerk; whereon the king took it up, and, having showed it to the moderator and others who were around him, he put it in his pocket. The consequences of tliis protest did not, however, end here ; Davidson was charged to appear before the council, and was by order of the king committed prisoner to the castle of Edinburgh ; but, on account of the infirm state of his health, the place of his confinement was changed to his own manse. Afterwards his liberty was extended to the bounds of his own parish, in whicli he was allowed to perform the duties of his charge : and there, after labouring in his vocation for some years, during which he suflTered much from bad Jiealtli, he died at Prestonpans in the year 1604. He was a man of sincere piety, and of an ardent and bold disposition, which fitted him to take a leading part in the great movements of the period. David- son is particularly deserving of notice on account of the exertions which he made for the religious and literary instruction of his parishioners in Prestonpans. At his own expense he built the church, the manse, and the school, and school- master's house. The school was erected for teaching the three learned languages, and he bequeathed all his heritable and movable property for its support. But by much the most extraordinary feature in liis character was his reputation for prophecy. Calderwood tells, that Davidson " one day seeing Mr John Kerr, the minister of Prestonpans, going in a scarlet cloak like a courtier, told him to lay aside that abominable dress, as he (Davidson) was destined to succeed him in his ministry; which accordingly came to pass." On another occasion, when John Spottiswood, minister of Calder, and James Law, minister of Kirkliston, were called before the synod of Lothian, on the charge of playing at foot-ball on Sabbath, Davidson, who was acting as moderator, moved that the culprits should be deposed from their charges. The .synod, however, awarded them a slighter punishment ; and when they were ordered in to receive their sen- tence, Davidson called out to them, " Come in, you pretty foot-ball men, the synod ordains you only to be rebuked." Then, addressing the meeting in his usual earnest and prophetic manner, he said, " And now, brethren, let me THOMAS DEMPSTER. 67^ tell you what reward you shall get for your lenity ; these two men shall tram- yle on your necks, and the necks of the whole ministry of Scotland." The one was afterwards archbishop of St Andrews, and the other of Glasgow. — We quote the following from Wotlrow's 31S. ■' Lives of Scottish Clergymen." When Davidson was about to rebuild the church of Prestonpans, "a place was found most convenient upon the lands of a small heritor of the parisli, c;illed James Pinkerton. 3Ir Davidson applied to him, and signified that sucli a place of his land, and live or six acres were judged most proper for building the church and churchyard dyke, and he behoved to sell them." The other said " he would never sell them, but he ^vould freely gift those acres to so good a use;" ^vhich he did. Mr Davidson said, " James, ye shall be no loser, and ye shall not want a James Pinkerton to succeed you for many generations :" and hither- to, as I was infonued some yeai"s ago, there has been still a James Pinkerton succeeding to that small heritiige in that parish, descending from him ; and after several of them had been in imminent danger when childless. DE3IPSTER, Thomas, a leai'ned professor and miscellaneous uriter, ^vas born at Brechin, in the shire of Angus, sometime in the latter part of the sixteenth centui-y. Of his family or education nothing certain has been preserved, far- ther than that he studied at Cambridge. In France, whither he went at an early period of his life, and where probably he received the better part of his education, he represented himself as a man of family, and possessed of a good estate, which he had abandoned for his religion , the Roman catholic He was promoted to a professor's chair at Paris, in the college of Beauvais. Bayle says, that though his business was only to teach a school, he was as ready to draw his sword as his pen, and as quarrelsome as if he had been a duellist by profession ; scarcely a day passed, he adds, in which he did not light either with his sword or at fisty cutis, so that he was the terror of all the school-mas- ters. Though he was of this quai-relsome temper himself, it does not appear however that he gave any encouragement to it in othei-s ; for one of his students having sent a challenge to another, he had him hoi-sed on the back of a fellow- student, and whipped him upon the seat of honour most severely before a full class. To revenge this monstrous atfront, the scholar brought three of the king's lifeguards-men, who were his relations, into the college. Dempster, however, was not to be thus tamed. He caused hamstring the lifeguards men's horses before the college gate ; themselves he shut up close prisonere in the bel- frey, whence they were not relieved for several days. Disappointed of ^heir revenge in this way, the students had recoui-se to another. They lodged an information against his life and character, which not choosing to meet, Demp- ster fled into England. How long he remained, or in wliat manner he was employed there, we have not been informed ; but he maiTied a woman of un- common beauty, with whom he returned to Paris. Walking the streets of Paris with his wife, who, proud of her beauty, had bared a more than ordinal^ por- tion of her breast and shoulders, which were of extreme whiteness, they were suii-ounded by a mob of curious spectatoi-s, and nan-owly escaped being trodden to death. Crossing the Alps, he obtained a professor's chair in the univei-sity of Pisa, with a handsome salary attached to it. Here his comfort, and perhaps his usefulness was again marred by the conduct of his beautiful wife, who at length eloped with one of his scholars. Previously to this, we suppose, for the time is by no means clearly stated, he had been professor in the univei-sity of Nimes, which he obtained by an honourable competition in a public dispute upon a passage of Virgil. " This passage," he says himself, " was proposed to me as a difficulty not to be solved, when 1 obtained the professorship in the royal col- lege of Nimes, which was disputed for by a great number of candidates, and G8 THOMAS DEMPSTJiK, whicli I at once very honourably carried from the other competitore ; thougli some l)usy people would have had it divided among several, the senatf declaring in my favour, and not one among so many ex«;€llent men, and eminent in evei'y part of learning dissenting, besides iJarnier. The choice being also approved by the consuls, and the other citizens, excepting some few uhom I could name if they deserved it ; but since they are unworthy so much honour, I shall let their envy and sly malice die with them, rather than contribute to their living by taking notice of them." At this period Dempster must have professed to be a Huguenot, the university of Nimes being destined solely for the professors of the reformed religion. Be this as it may, Dempster, driven from Fisa by the in- fidelity of his wife, proceeded to Bologna, where he obtained a professorship which he held till his death in the year 1(3 25. Dempster was the author of many books, and during his own life certainly enjoyed a most extensive reputation. His po\vers of memory were so great, that he himself was in the habit of saying, that he did not know what it was to forget Nothing, it was said by some of his encomiasts, lay so hidden in the monuments of antiquity , but that he remembered it ; and they gave him on this account the appellation of a speaking library. He was also allowed to have been exceedingly laborious, reading generally fourteen houi-s every day. If he really devoted so large a portion of his time to reading, his knowledge of books, even though his memory had been but of ordinary capacity, must have been immense ; but he wanted judgment to turn his reading to any proper ac- count. What >\as still worse, he was destitute of common honesty ; " and shamefully," says I3ayle, " published I know not how many fables." In his catalogue of the writers of Scotland, it has been observed that he frequently inserted those of England, Wales, and Ireland, just as suited his fancy ; and to confirm his assertions, very often quoted books which were never written, and appealed to authors wliich never existed. " Thomas Dempster," says 31. Baillet, " has given us an ecclesiastical history of Scotland in nineteen books, wherein he speaks much of the Tearaed men of that country. But though he was an able man in other respects, his understanding was not the more sound, nor his judg- ment the more solid, nor his conscience the better for it. He would have wshed that all learned men had been Scots. He forged titles of books which were never published, to raise the glory of his native country ; and has been guilty of several cheating tricks, by which he has lost his credit among men of learning. The catalogue of Dempster's works is astonishingly ample, and they undoubt- edly exhibit proofs of uncommon erudition. Of his numerous wi-iting-s, how- ever, his Historia Ecclesiastica Gentis Hcotorum, is the most remarkable, though, instead of being as its title would indicate, an ecclesiastical history of Scot« land, it is merely a list of Scottish authors and Scottish saints. The work was com- posed in Italy, where, it is presumable, the works of Scottish authors were not easily accessible ; in consequence of wliich he could not be expected to proceed with any very great degree of accuracy ; but many of his eiTors, even candour must admit, are not the result of inadvertency, but of a studied intention to mis- lead. A moie fabulous work never laid claim to the honoui-s of history. Of the names which he so splendidly emblazons, a large proportion is wholly fictitious and bis anecdotes of writers who have actually existed, are entitled to any kind of commendation but that of credibility. In extenuation of this fabulous propensity, however, it ought to be observed, that he lived in an age when such fabrica- tions were considered as meritorious rather than reprehensible. The rage for legends framed for promoting the practice of piety, as was foolishly imagined, gave a general obliquity to the minds of men, rendering them utterly insensible GEORGE DEMPSTER. 69 to the s.-icrcd claims and the immutable character of truth. The most impudent lie, if it was supposed to fivoir the cause of religion, was di-iiiiHed wiih the name of a j02o?^5 fraud; and tite most palpable falsehood, if it was designed to promote national glory, met, from the general impulse of national vanity, with the same indulgence. Hence that contemptible mass of falsehood and of liclion, which darkens and disfigiues all, and has totally blotted out the early history of some nations. Dempster hid certainly an irritable, and, in some degree, a ferocious disposition, but we do not see that lie ought to be charged with moral turpitude beyond the average of the men of his own age and standing in so- ciety. Vet for the honour of his country, as he foolishly imagined, he has amassed an immense mass of incredible fictions, which he has gi'avely told ; and seems to have hoped mankind in general would receive as well authenti<;ated his- torical fa(;ts. Losing in the brilliancy of his imagination any little sp.irk of in- tegrity that illuuiined his undei*standing, when the reputation of his native country was concernt d, he seems to have been incapable of distinguishing be- tween truth and falsehood. In this respect, however, he does not stand alone, the earlier historians of every country being in some degree chargeable with the same failing. Even in the most splendid works of the same kind, written at periods comparatively late, many passages might be pointed out, which there is no necessity for supposing their compilers seriously believed. With all his faults, the reputation of Lfempster certainly extended itself to every country of Europe ; and though his most elaborate works are digested with so little care or so little skill, tJiat they can only be regarded as collections of ill assorted materials, exhibiting little merit beyond assiduity of transcription ; yet it would perhaps be difficult to point out another Scottish writer who had the same in- timate acquaintance with classical antiquity. DEMPSTER, George, of Dunnichen, (an estate near Dundee, which his grand- father, a merchant in that town, had acquired in trade), was born about the year 1735. He was educated at the grammar school of Dundee, and the university of St Andrews ; afier which he repaired to Edinburgh, where in 1755 he became a member of the faculty of advocates. Possessed of an am- ple fortune, and being of a social disposition, Mr Dempster entered eagerly into all the gayeties of the metropolis ; and at the same time he cultivated the friendship of a gTOup of young men conspicuous for their talents, and some of whom afterwards attained to eminence. In the number were ^^ illiam Kobertson and David Hume, the future historians. Mr Dempster became a member of the *' Poker Club " instituted by the celebrated Dr Adam Ferguson, which met in a house near the Nether-bow, and had for its object harmless con- viviality : but a society which included David Hume, WiUiam Robertson, Jolni Home (the author of ' Douglas'), Alexander Carlyle, and George Dempster, must necessarily have conduced to the intellectual improvement of its members. It was succeeded, in the year 175(5, by the " Select Society,'" a much more ex- tensive association, consisting of most of the men of talent, rank, and learning in Scotland. The object of this society was the advancement of literatm-e and the promotion of the study and speaking of the English language in Scotland, and Dempster was one of the ordinary directoi-s. A list of the members of this society will be found in the appendix to professor DugaM Stewart's life of Dr Robertson. After travelling some time on the continent, Mr Dempster returned to Scotland, and practised .for a short while at the bar. But, abandoning that profession early in life, he turned his attention to politics, and stood candidate for the Fife and Forfar district of burghs. His contest was a very arduous one, and cost him upwards of jE 10,000 ; but it was successful, for he was returned 70 GEOUGE DEMPSTER. inembor to the twelfth pailiaiueiit of Great Biitiiiii, wliidi met on tlie 25tli November, 17(32. lie entered the house of commons as an iiulependent member unshackled by party. In the year 17(i5,he obtained the patent office of secretary to the Scottish order of the Thistle, an office more honourable than lucrative ; and it was the only re»ard which he either sought or procured for twenty-eight years of faithful service in parliament. ."Mr Dempster was de- cidedly opposed to the contest witJJ the American colonies, which ended in their independence ; and concurred with 31r Pitt and 31r Fox, in maintaining, that taxes could not be constitutionally imposed witliout representation. He did not, liowever, enter into any factious opposition to the ministry during the continuance of the first American war; but on its conclusion he \vas strenuous in his endeavours to obtain an immediate reduction of the military establish- ment, and the al)olition of sinecure places and pensions. He joined JMr Fitt, ^vhen llmt great statesman came into power, and supported him in his financial plans, particularly in the establishment of the sinking fund. Mr Dempster liad directed much of his attention to the improvement of our national com- merce and manufactures, wliich he desired to see freed from all restraint. But the object to which at this time and for many years afterwards he seems to have directed his chief attention, was the encouragement of the Scottish fisheiies. This had been a favourite project with the people of Scotland, ever since the time when the duke of York, afterwards James II. patronized and became a subscriber to a company formed expressly for the purpose. At length Blr Dempster succeeded in rousing the British parliament to a due appreciation of the national benefits to be derived from the encouragement of the fisheries on the northern shores, and was allowed to nominate the conunittee for reporting to the house the best means of carrying his plans into execution. About this period, I\lr Dempster was elected one of the East India Company's directors. It is believed that his election took place in opposition to the prevailing interest in the directory ; and certainly his mistaken notions on the subject of oriental politico must have rendei'ed him an inefficient member of that court. Misled by the connnercial origin of the corporation, he would have had the company, after it had arrived at great political influence, and had acquired extensive territorial possessions in India, to resign its sovereign power and to confine itself to its mercantile speculations. 'Ihe policy of re- linquishing territorial dominion in India, has long been a cry got up for parly purposes ; but it seems very extraordinary that Dempster, controlled by no such intiuence, should have so violently opposed himself to the true interest of the country. The error into which he fell is now obvious ; he wisiied to maintain an individual monopoly, when the great wealth of the country ren- dered it no longer necessary, while he proposed to destroy our sway over India, when it might be made the means of defending and extending our com- merce. Finding liimself unable to alter our Indian policy, he withdrew from the directon' and became a violent parliamenUiry opponent of the company. He supported 3Ir Fox's India bill, a measure designed chiefly for the purpose of consolidating a whig administration; and on one occasion he declared, that " all chartered rights should be held inviolable, — those derived from one char- ter only excepted. That is the sole and single charter which ought in my mind to be destroyed, for the sake of the country, for the sake of India, and for the sake of humanity." — " I for my part lament, that the navigation to India had ever been discovered, and I now conjui-e ministers to abandon all ideas of sovereignty in that quarter of the world : for it would be wiser to make some one of the native princes king of the country, and leave India to itself." In 1765, Wr Dempster gave his support to the Grenville act, by which GEOKGE DEMPSTER. 71 provision was made for the decision of contested elections by committees chosen by ballot. On the regency question of 1788-9, he was opposed to the ministry ; declaring that an executive so constituted would " resemble nothing that ever was conceived before ; an uu-whig, un-tory, odd, awkward, anoma- lous monster." In the year 1790, Mr Dempster retired from parlirmentary duties. Whether this was owing to his own inclination, or forced upon him by the superior in- fluence of the Athole family, a branch of which succeeded him in the repre- sentation of Ills district of burghs, seems doubtful, lie now devoted his un- divided attention to the advancement of the interests of his native country. It was chiefly through his means that an act of parliament had been obtained, af- fording protection and giving bounties to the fisheries in Scotland ; and that a joint stock company had been formed for tiieir prosecution. In the year 1788, he liad been elected one of the directors of this association, and on that oc- casion he delivered a powerful speech to the members, in which he gave an historical account of the proceedings for extending the fisheries on the coasts of Great Britain. He then showed them that the encouragement of the fisheries was intimately connected with the improvement of the Highlands ; and in this manner, by his zeal and activity in the cause, Mr Dempster succeeded in engag- ing the people of Scotland to the enthusiastic prosecution of this undertaking. The stock raised, or expected to be raised, by voluntary contribution, was esti- mated at jt 150,000. Even from India considerable aid was supplied by the Scotsmen resident in that country. The company purchased large tracts of land at Tobermory in Mull, on Loch-Broom in Ross-shire, and on Loch-Bay and Loch-Folliart in the isle of Sky ; at all of these stations they built har- bours or quays and erected storehouses. Every thing bore a promising aspect, when the war of 1793 with France broke out, and involved the project in ruin. The price of their stock fell rapidly, and many became severe sufferers by the depreciation. Still, however, although the undertaking proved disastrous to the shareholders, yet the country at large is deeply indebted to Mr Dempster for the great national benefit which has since accrued from the parliamentary en- couragement given to our fisheries. In farther prosecution of his pati'iotic designs, Mr Dempster attempted to establish a manufacturing village at Skibo, on the coast of Caithness ; but the local disadvantages, in spite of tiie cheapness of labour and provisions, were in- superable obstacles to its prosperity ; and the consequence was, that he not only involved himself, but his brother also, in hea^^ pecuniary loss, without confen-ing any lasting benefit on the disU'ict. On the close of his parliamentary career, Mr Dempster had discontinued liis practice of passing the winter in London, and spent his time partly at his seat at Dunniclien, and partly in St Andrews. In that ancient city he enjoyed the society of his old friend Dr Adam Ferguson, and of the learned professors of the university ; and we have a pleasing picture of the happy serenity in which this excellent and truly patriotic statesman passed the evening of his life, in the fact that he was in use to send round a vehicle, which he facetiously de- nominated " llie route coach,'''' in order to convey some old ladies to liis house, who, like himself, excelled in the game of whist, an amusement in which he took singular pleasure. His time while at Dunnichen was more usefully employed. When Mr Dempster first directed his attention to the improvement of his estate, the tenantry in the north of Scotland were still subject to many of the worst evils of the feudal system. " I found," he says (speaking of the con- dition of his own farmers), " my few tenants without leases, subject to the black- smith of the barony ; thirled to its mills ; wedded to the wretched system ot 72 GEORGE DEMPSTER. out-field and in ; bound to pay kain and to perform personal services ; clothed in hodden, and lodj^ed in hovels." The Highlainl proprietors, instead of at- temptinvould still be more lavish in my commendation of your design, were it not that I should thereby indirectly make a panegyric on myselt For these last forty years of my life, I have acted in the management of my little rural concerns on the principles you so strenuously inculcate. I found my few tenants without leases, subject to the blacksmith of the barony ; thirled to its mills ; wedded to the WTetched system of out-field and in : bound to pay kain, and to perform per- sonal services ; clothed in hodden, and lodged in hovels. You have enriched the magazine with the result of your farming excursions. Pray, direct one of them to the county I write from ; peep in upon Dunnichen, and if you find one of the evils I have enumerated existing ; if you can trace a question, at my in- stance, in a court of law, with any tenant as to how he laboui's his farm ; or find one of them not secured by a lease of nineteen yeai-s at least, and his life, — the barony shall be yours You will find me engaged in a conti-oversy of the most amiable kind with lord Carrington, defending the freedom of the Eng- lish tenants from the foolish resti'ictions with which theii- industry is shackled ; prohibitions to break up meadow land, to sow flax, to plant tobacco, &;c., all imposed by foolish lears, or by ignorance ; and confirmed by the selfish views of land stewards, who naturally wish the dependence of farmei-s on their will and pleasure. God knows, Scotland is physically barren enough, situated in a high latitude, composed of ridges of high mountains ; yet, in my opinion, moral causes contribute still more to its sterility. " I urge the zealous prosecution of your labours, as a gener^d change of sys- tem and sentiment is only to be eflected slowly ; your maxims are destined, first, to revolt mankind, and, long after, to reform them. There never was a less successful aj)ostle than I have been. In a mission of forty yeai-s, I cannot boast of one convert 1 still find the tenants of my neai-est neighboui-s and best friends, cutl,ing down the laird's corn, while their own crops are imperiously calling for their sickles. I am much pleased with the rotations you suggest ; SIR ALEXANDER LiCK. 73 and as those topics are very favourite ones with me, tliey occupy no suiall por- tion of my leisure moments. " The Hic'liland Society's being; silent on the subject of the emiirration of the Highlanders, who are gone, going, and preparing to go in whole clans, can only be accounted for by those who are more intimately acquainted with the state of the Highlands than I pretend to be. One would think the society were disciples of Pinkerton, ^^ho says, the best thing we could do, would be to get rid entirely of the Celtic tribe, and people their countrj- ^vith inhabitants from the low countr>'. How little does he know the valour, the frugality, the industry of those inestimable people, or their attachment to their friends and countrj- ! I would not give a little Highland child for ten of the highest Highland moun- tains in all Lochaber. A\ ith proper encouragement to its present inhabitants, the next century- might see the Highlands of Scotland cuhivated to its summits, like Wales or Switzerland : its valleys teeming with soldiers for our army, its bays, lakes, and friths «ith seamen for oui- na^y. " At the height of four hundred feet above the level of the sea, and ten miles removed from it, 1 dare not venture on spring wheat, but I have had one advantage from my elevation : my autumn wheat has been covered with snow most of the winter, through which its green shoots peep very prettily. I have sometimes believed that this hardy grain is better calculated for our cold climate tlian is generally thought, if sown on well cleaned and dunged land, verj- early, perhaps by the end of September, so as to be in ear when we get our short scorch of heat from 15th July to 15th August, and to profit by it. " I was pleased A\ith your recommending married farm servants. I don't value mine a rush till they marry the lass they like. On my farm of 120 acres, I can show such a crop of thriving human stock as delights me. Prom five to seven years of age, they gather my potatoes at Id, •2d, and 3d per day, and the sight of such a joyous busy field of industrious happy creatures revives my old age. Oiu- dairy fattens them like pigs : our cupboard is their apothecary's shop ; and the old casten clothes of the family, by the industrj of their mothers, look like birthday suits on them. Some of them attend the groom to water his horses ; some the carpenter's shop, and all go to the parish school in the winter time, whenever they can crawl the length." There is something extremely delightiul in the complacency with which the good old man thus vie^^^ the improvements he had Avrought on his estate, and the happiness he had diffused among those around him. After having enjoyed much good health, and a cheerful old age, until his last illness, 3Ir Dempster died on the 13th of February-, ISIS, in the S-ltli year of his age. We cannot more appropriately finish our imperfect sketch of this good and able patriot, than by subjoining an extract from one of his letters to his friend Sir John Sinclair — " I was lately on my death-bed, and no retrospect afforded me more satisfaction than that of liaving made some scores — hundreds of poor Highlanders happy, and put them in the way of being rich themselves, and of enriching the future lairds of Skibo and Portrossie. — Dunniclien, 2nd Nov. 1 807." DICK, Sir Alexander. Bart., of Pi-estoiifield, near Edinburgh, was born on the 23d of October, 1703. He was the third son of Sir William Cunningham of Caprinijton, by dame Janet, daughter and heiress of Sir James Dick of Pres- tonfield. While his two elder brothers were to succeed to ample fortunes, one from the father, and the other from the mother, Alexander was left in a great measure dependent on his own exertions. He accordingly chose the profession of medicine : and after acquiring the preliminary branches of his profession in Edinburirh, proceeded to Leyden, where he pursued his raerofessional brethi'eu entertained of his services, a portrait of him was, by a unanimous vote, hung up in their hall. Sir Alexander Dick did not confine his patriotic exertions to the advancement of his own profession, but took an active share in every undertaking which he conceived likely to prove beneficial to the city of Edinburgh or its neighbourhood. In particular, the citizens were much indebted to him for the improvements which he effected in the highways around the metropolis. Sir Alexander was twice married — in April, 173(5, to his cousin Janet, daughter of Alexander Dick, merchant in Edinburgh, by wliom he had five children, but two daughters only survived him; and in Mai'ch, 1762, he married Mary, daughter of David Butler of Pembrokeshire, by whom he had seven children. Three sons and three daughters of the latter marriage survived him. Having attained the 83d year of his age, with faculties unimpaired, he died on the 10th of November, 1785 ; and his death, notwithstanding the very advanced age he had reached, was generally lamented as a loss to society. He was of a kind and amiable character, and remarkable for the mildness and sweetness of his disposition, and for the unwearied zeal and activity with which ho promoted the advancement of medical knowledge in Scotland, as well as the improvement and welfare of his native city. DICK (the Reverend) JOHX, D.D., an eminent divine of the Scottish Secession church, was born at Aberdeen on the 10th October, 1764. His father, the reverend Alexander Dick, a native of Kinross, was minister of the Associate congregation of Seceders in that city. Of the earlier years of Dr Dick little more is known than that he distinguished himself at the grammar-school. On entering the university, in October, 1777, when in liis thirteentli year, he obtained a bursary in King's College, having been preferred to competitors of long standing. Dr Dick entered on his university course in King's College, which he had been induced to prefer to Marischal's, on account of the advantages to be derived from the bursary which he had obtained. Here he studied humanity under professor Ogilvio, Greek under Leslie, and philosophy under professor Dunbar, and on 30th M.irch, 1781, ho took the degree of A.M. On the arrival of the period when it became necessary for him to choose a profession, he determined on devoting himself to the ministry in connection with the Secession, but to this resolution many of his friends were opposed; fcomc of whom pressed him to join the Scottish establishment, others the Epis- JOHN DICK, D.D. 75 coj»al, wliile liis father expressed an aversion to liis dedicating liimself to t'lie ministry at all, from a fear tiiat he was not at heart sufficiently devoted to tiie sacred calling which he desired to assume. He, however, adhered to his original resolution, and j)roceeded to prepare himself accordingly. In 1780, after undergoing the usual examination, he was admitted hy the Associate presbytery of Perth and Dunfennline, to attendance in the divinity hall, Aberdeen, then under the superintendence of the celebrated John Brown of Haddington, where he studied lor five years, spending during this time the greater part of his vacations with a paternal uncle, who took great pains in improving the language of his young relative, and in assisting him to rid him- self of the provincial peculiarities by which it was disfigured. On entering the divinity iiall, a very remarkable temporary change took place in Dr Dick's personal manners. From being extremely lively and gay in his deportment, he, all at once, became grave and thoughtful, and continued thus for two years, when he again resumed the original and natural character- istics he had thus so strangely aad suddenly laid aside, and remained under their influence throughout the rest of his life, which was distinguished by a sin- gular flow of animal spirits. The cause of this change of manner is said to have been certain deep religious impressions whi(;h had imprinted themselves on his mind, and had weighed on his spirits during the two years of his altered demeanour. Ur Diclv now devoted himself, in an especial manner, to classical literature, and pursued his studies in this department of learning with a zeal and assiduity \vhich soon introduced him to an intimate and extensive acquaintance with the more celebrated \vriters of antiquity. He also laboured assiduously to acquire a mastery of the Knglish language, to eradicate Scotticisms from his speech and writings, and to attain a pure and elegant style ; a pursuit in which he was greatly aided by the celebrated Dr Beattie, who \va8 then reckoned a master in the art of composition. In 1785, Dr Dick, who had now attained the age of twenty-one, received his license as a preacher from the Associate presbytery of Perth and Dunfermline, and soon afterwards began to attract notice by the elegance of his sermons, t!ie gracefulness of his delivery, and the dignity and fervour of liis manner in the pulpit. The consequence of this favourable impression was, that he received shortly after being licensed, simultaneous calls from three several congrega- tions, — those of Scone, Musselburgh, and Slateford, near Edinburgh, to the last named of nhi(;h he was appointed by the synod, and was ordained on the 2Gtli October, 17SG, at the age of twenty-two. With this appointment Di- Dick was himself highly gratified. He liked the situation, and soon became warndy attached to his people, who, in their turn, formed the strongest attachment to him. During the first year of his ministry he lived with Dr Peddie of Edinburgh, there being no residence for him in the village. One, however, was built, and at the end of the periotl named, he removed to it, and added to his other pursuits the culture of a garden which had been assigned him, and in which he took great delight. A few years afterwards he married Miss Jane Coventry, second daughter of the reverend George Coventry of Stitchell in Roxburghshire; a connexion which added greatly to his comfort and happiness. Dr Dick's habits were at this lime, as indeed they also were throughout the whole of his life, extremely regular and active. He rose every morning be- fore six o'clock and began to study, allowing himself only from two to three hours' recreation in the middle of the day, uhen lie visited his friends, or walked alone into the country. Nor was his labour light, for, although an 7G JOHN DICK, D.D. excellent exlemiiore speaker, he always wrote the discoui'ses he meant to de- liver, in order to ensure that accuracy and elegance of language which, he ri<5iitiy conceived, could not be coniiiiaiided, or at least depended on in exteni- jMiraneous oratory. The consequence of this care and anxiety about his com- positions was a singular clearness, conciseness, and simplicity of style in his sermons. Nor was he less happy in the matter than the manner of his discourses. The former was exceedingly varied and comprehensive ; em- bracing nearly the whole range of theology. In 1788, two years after his settlement at Slateford, Dr Dick made his first appearance as an author. In that year he published a sermon, entitled " The Conduct and Doom of False Teachers," a step suggested by the publication of " A Practical Essay on the Death of Christ, by Dr M'Uill of Ayr," in which Socinian opinions were openly maintained. The general aim of Dr Dick'.i discourse was to expose all corrupters of the truth, particularly those, who, like Dr 3I'(iill, disseminated errors, and yet continued to hold office in a church \vhose creed was ortiiodox. During all the. debates in this case, which took place before the deiieral Assembly, Dr Dick attended, and took a deep interest in all the proceedings connected with it which occurred in that court. The subji;ct of this memoir did not appear again as an author till 1706, when he published another sermon, entitled " Confessions of Faith shown to be necessary, and the Duty of Churches with respect to them Explained." This sermon, wliit;h was esteemed a singularly able production, had its origin in a controversy then agitated on the subject of the Westminster Confession of l''ailh in relation to seceders who were involved in an inconsistency by retain- ing the former entire, while, contrary to its spirit, they threw off spiritual al- legiance to magisterial authority. In this discourse Dr Dick recommends that confessions of faith sh(>\ild be often revised, and endeavours to do away the prejudice which prevents that being done. From tiiis period till 1800, the doctor's literary productions consisted whol- ly of occasional contributions to the Christian Magazine, a monthly publication conducted by various ministers belonging to the two largest branches of the Secession. The contributions alluded to, were distinguished by the signature Chorepiscopus. liut in the year above named the able work appeared on which Dr Dick's reputation as a writer and theologian now chiefly rests. This was " An l-lssay on the Inspiration of the Scriptures ;'' a production which was received with great applause, and which made the author's name widely known throughout the religious world. The popularity of this work was so great that it went through three editions during Dr Dick's lifetime, and a fourth, on which he meditated certain alterations, which, however, he did not live to accomplisli, was called for before his death. Dr Dick had now beesi fifteen years resident at Slateford, and in this time had been twice called to ociiupy the place of his father, who had died in the interval; but the synod, in harmony with his own wishes, declined both of these invitations, and continued him at Slateford. The time, however, had now arrived when a change of residence was to take place, In 1801, he was called by the congregation of (jJreyfriars, Glasgow, to be colleague to the reverend Alexander i'irie, and with this call the synod complied, Dr Dick him- self expressing no opinion on the subject, but leaving it wholly to the former to decide on tiie propriety and expediency of his removal. The parting of the doctor wilii his congregation on this occasion was exceedingly affecting. Their attachment to each other was singularly strong, and their separation pro- portionally painful. Having repaired to Glasgow, Dr Dick was inducted, as colleague and JOHN DICK, D.D. 'i'J successor, into liis new charge, one of the oldest and wealtliitst in the Secession church, on tiie "2 1st 3Iay, 1801. Previously to the doct .r's induction, a large portion of the nieuihers of the congregation had \vithdrawn to a party who termed themselves the Old Light; but the diligence, zeal, and talents of iis ministers speedily restored the church to its original prosperity. From this period nothing more remarkable occurred in Dr Dick's life than uhat is comprised in the following brief sunnuary of events. In 1810, he succeed- ed, by the death of Dr Pirie, to the sole charge of the Greyfriars. In 1815, he received the degree of Doctor of Divinity from the college of Princetown, New Jersey, and in the following year he published a volume of sermons. In 1820, he was chosen to the chair of theological professor to the Associate Synod in room of Dr Lawson of Selkirk, who died in 1819 ; an appointment which involved a flattering testimony to his merits, being the most honourable place in the gift of his communion. Yet his modesty would have declined it, had not his friends insisted on his accepting it. For six years subsequent to his taking- tiie theological chair, Dr Dick continued sole professor, but at the end of that period, viz., in 1825, a new professorship, intended to embrace biblical literature, was established, and the Rev. Dr John JMitchell was ap- pointed to the situation. From this period Dr Dick's labours were united with those of the learned gentleman just named. On the retirement of the earl of Glasgow from the presidentship of the Auxiliary Bible Society of Glasgow, in consequence of the controversy raised regarding the circulation of the Apocrypha, Dr Dick was chosen to that office, and in March, 1832, he was elected president also of the (ilasgow Voluntary Church Association, to the furtherance of whose objects he lent all his influence and talents. But his active and valuable life was now drawing to a close, and its last public act was at hand. This was his attending a meeting on the 23rd January, 1833, in whici. the lord provost of the city presided, for the purpose of petitioning the legislature regarding the sanctification of the sabbath. On this occasion Dr Dick was intrusted with one of the resolutions, and delivered a very animated address to the large and respectable .".ssemblage which the ob- ject alluded to had brouglit together; thus showing that, consistently -with the opinions he maintained as to the power of the civil magistrate in matters cf religion, he could join in an application to Parliament for the protection of the sacred day against the encroachments of worldly and ungodly men. On the same evening Dr Dick attended a meeting of the session of Grey- friars, to make arrangements for the celebration of the Lord's Supper, but on going home he was attacked with the complaint, a disease in the interior of the ear, which brought on his deatii, after an illness of only two days' duration. 'Ihis excellent man died on the 25th January, 1833, in the sixty-ninth year of his age, the forty-seventh of his ministry, and the thirteenth of his profes- sorship. His remains were interred in the High churchyard of Glasgow on the 1st of February following, amidst expressions of regret which unequivocally indicated the high estimation in which he was held. About a year after his death, his theological lectures were published in four volumes, 8vo, with n memoir prefixed. It only remains to be added, that Dr Dick, during the period of his ministry in Glasgow, attracted much notice by the delivery of a series of monthly Sabbath evening lectures on the Acts of the Apostles, which were afterwards published at intervals in two volumes ; and, on a second edition being called for, were collected in one volume. These lectures, which were followed up by a series of discourses on the divine attributes, are reckoned models for the exposition of the Holy Scriptures. 78 DAVID DICKSON. DICKSON, David, au einiiient Presbyterian divine of the seventeenth century, of whom Wodrow remarks, that, "if ever a Scots Biography and the lives of our eminent ministers and Christians be publislied, he will shine there as a star of the first magnitude." Remarkable not merely for the part lie took in public affairs — his preachinj,' produced the most astonishing effects in tlie early part of the century in whicli he lived. Fleming, in his work on the " Fulfilling of the Scriptures,"%ays of Dickson's pulpit ministrations, "that for a considerable lime fow Sabbaths did pass without some evidently converted, or some convincing proof of tiic power of God accompanying his Word. And truly (he adds) this great spring-tide, as I may call it, of the gospel, was not of a short time, but of some years' continuance ; yea, thus like a spreading nioor-buru, the power of godliness did advance from one place to another, which put a marvellous lustre on those parts of the country, the savour whereof brought many from other parts of the land to see its truth"." We may be permitted to devote a few pages to the history of a man thus recommended by his great public usefulness, his talents, and virtues. The subject of our narrative -was a native of Glasgow, in which city his father, John Dick, or Dickson, was a merchant. The latter was possessed of consider- able wealth, and the proprietor of the lands of the Kirk of the Muir, iu the parish of St Niniaiis, and barony of Fintry. He and his wife, both pei-sons of eminent piety, had been several yeai-s married without children, when they en- tered into a solemn vow, that, if the Lord would give them a son, they would devote liim to the service of liis church. A day \vas appointed, and their clu-istian townsmen were requested to join with them in fasting and prayer. Without fiirtlier detail of this story, we sliall merely say, that IVLr David Dick- son^ their son, was born in the Trou street (or Trongate) of Glasgow, in 1583 ; but the vow ^\as so far forgot, that he was educated for mercantile pursuits, in which he was eminently unsuccessful, and tlie cause of much pecuniary loss to his parents. This iiircumstance, added to a severe illness of their son, led his parents to remember tlieir vow ; fllr Diclison was then " put to his studyes, and what eminent service he did in his generation is knowen." ' Soon after taking the degree of master of arts, Mr Dickson was appointed one of the regents or professors of philosophy in tlie university of Glasgow ; a situation held at that period in all the Scottish colleges by young men, who liad just finished their acjxdeniical career, and were destined for the church. " Tlie course of study vvliich it was their duty to conduct, was calculated to form habits of severe application in early life, and to give them great facility both in writing and in speaking. The universities had the advantage of their services during the vigour of life ; when they were unencumbered by domestic cares, and \vhen they felt how um<;h their reputation and interest depended on the exertions whicii they made. After serving a few years, (seldom more than eight, or less than four,) tlicy generally obtained appointments in the church, and tlius transferred to anotlier field the intellectual industry and aptitude for c(jmmunic;itiiig knowledge by which they had distinguished themselves in the university. It may well be conceived, that by stimulating and exemplifying diligence, their influence on their brethren in the ministry was not less consi- derable than on the parishioners, who more dii-ectly enjoyed the benefit of a4,t;iinineiits and experieiu-e, more mature than can be expected from such as have never had access to similar ine\7is now removed to a more honourable, though certainly more hazardous calling. In the year It) IS, he Avas ordained minister of Irvine. At this period, it would appear he had paid but little attention to the subject of church government ; a circumstance, the more remarliable, when we consider the keen discussions between the presbyterians and episcopalians on such questions. But the year in wiiicli he had entered on his ministry, was too eventful to be overlooked. The general assembly had agreed to the five ceremonies now kno«Ti as the Perth articles, and a close examination convinced 3Ir Dickson that ihey were unscriptural. Soon afterwards, when a severe illness brought him near death, he openly declared against them : and. no sooner had Law, tlie archbishop of GLisgow, heard of it, than he ^vas summoned before the court of high commission. He accordingly appeared, but declined the jurisdiction of the court, on account of which, sentence of deprivation and conlinement to Turritf was passed upon hinu His friends prevailed upon the archbishop to restore him, on condition that he would withdraw his declinature : a condition with which he woidd not comply. Soon after, Law yielded so far as to allow him to return to his parish, if he would come to his castle, and Anthdraw the paper from the hall-table without seeing hira ; terms which 3Ir Dickson spurned, as beiuj " but juofgling in such a weighty matter." At leugth, he was permit- ted in July, l(3-23, to return unconditionally.-' After noticing the deep impression 3Ir Dickson made upon the minds of his hearers, 3Ir Wodrow gives us the following account of his ministerial labours at Irvine : — ' 3Ir Diclison had his week-day sermon upon tlie 3Iondays, the mai- ket days then at Irvine. L'pon the Sabbath evenings, many persons under soul distress, used to resort to his house after sermon, when usually he spent an hour or two in answering their cases, and directing and comforting those Avho were cast down : in all whicli he had an extraordinary talent, indeed, he had the tongue of the learned, and knew how to speak a word in season to the weary- soul. In a large hall he had in his house at Irvine, there would have been, as I am informed by old christians, several scores of serious christians \\aiting for hira when he came from the church. Those, with the people round the toH-n, who came in to the market at Irvine, made the church as throng, if not throng- er, on the 3Iondays, as on the Lord's day, by these week-day sermons. The famous Stewarton Sickness was begun about the year 1G30 ; and spread from house to house for many miles in the strath where StCArartcn water runs on both sides of it. Satan endeavoured to bring a reproach upon the serious persons who were at this time under the convincing work of the Spirit, by running some, seemingly under serious concern, to excesses, both in time of sermon, and in families. But the Lord enabled 3Ir Dickson, and other ministers who dealt with them, to act so prudent a |iart, as Satan's design ^^-as much disappointed, and solid, serious, practical religion tiourished mightily in the west of Scotland about this time, even under the hardsiiips of prelacy." About the year 1630, some of the Scottish clergymen settled among their should engage to vncate their charge in the event of marrjing. Mr James Daln mple (af- t'-rwards the visrount of Stair) having married while a regent at Glasgow in 1643, demitteil, but was reappointed. — Itid. 3 Wodrow s memoir of Dickson, p. 12, 13. Livingston's Characteristics, edit. 1773, p. 81. 80 DAVID DICKSON. cnuntryuien, who had emigrated to the noitli of Ireland. While they were pn-niitted to preach, they had been highly useful ; but the Irish prelates did II. (t long allow them to remain unmolested : they felt the progress of their opinions, and with a zeal, which, in attempting to promote, often defeats its oivn cause, determined to silence, or oblige the presbyterians to conform. In 1G37, Robert lilair and John Livingston, against whom warrants had been issued, after secreting tiiemselves near the coast, came over to Scotland. They were received by 3Ir Dickson at Irvine, and were employed occasionally in preaching for him. He had been warned that this would be seized upon by tlie bishops as a pretext for deposing him, but he would not deviate from what he considered his duty. He was, therefore, again called before the high com- mission court ; but we are only told, that "he soon got rid of this trouble, the bishops' power being now on the decline." In the summer of the same year, several ministers were charged to buy and receive the Senice Book ; a measure which produced the most important conse- quences. 3Ir John Living-ston, in his autobiography, has truly said that the subsequent changes in the church took their rise from two petitions presented upon this occasion. iMany others followed, and their prayer being refused, in- creased the number and demands of the petitioners ; they required the abolition of the high commission, and exemption from the Perth ai-ticles. These were still refused, and their number was now so gi-eat as to form a large majority oi the ministers and people. The presbytery of Irvine joined in the petition, at the instigation of JMr Dickson, and throughout the whole of the proceedings which followed upon it, we shall find him taking an active, but moderate part. When the general assembly of 1638 was convoked, David Dickson, Robert Baillie, and William Russell, minister at Kilbirnie, were appointed to represent the presbytei-y at Irvine, and " to propone, reason, vote, and conclude according to the word of God, and confession approven by siaidry genei-al assemblies." lur Dickson and a few others were objected to by the king's party, as being Under the censure of the high commission, but they proved the injustice of the proceedings against them, and were therefore admitted members. He seems to have borne a zealous and useful part in this great ecclesiastical council : his epeech, when the commissioner threatened to leave them, is mentioned by Wod- low with mvich approbation ; but the historian has not inserted it in his memoir, as it was too long, and yet too important and nervous to be abridged. A discoui-se upon Arminianism, delivered at their eleventh session, is also noticed, of which, principal L'aillie says, that he " refuted all those errors in a new way of his own, as some years ago he had conceived it in a number of Sermons on the new- Covenant. 3Ir David's discourse was much as all his tilings, extempore ; so he could give no double of it, and his labour went away with his speech."' An effort was made at this period by John Bell, one of the ministei-s of Glasgow, to obtain Mr Dickson for an assistant, but the opposition of lord Eglinton and that of 3Ir Baillie in behalf of the presbytery of Irvine, were sufficient to delay, though not to prevent, tiie appointment. In the short campaign of Hi'.i'.), a regiment of 1200 men, of which the earl of Loudon was appointed'coroner (or colonel), and IMr Dickson, chaplain, was raised in Ayrshire. The unsatisfactory pacification at Berwick, however, re- quired that the Scots should disband their army, and leave the adjustment of civil and etxlesiastical dilierences to a parliament and assembly. Of the latter coiirt, 3Ir Dickson was, by a large majority, (;hosen moderator; a situatiou which he filled with great judgment and moderation. In the tenth session, a c ill was presented to him from the town of Glasgow, but the vigorous inter ■' IJailliu's printed Lctleis and Journals, i. 125. DAVID DICKSON. 81 ference of lord Eglinton, and of his own parishionei-s, contributed still to delay Ills removal. His speech at the conclusion of the assembly, as given by Steven- son, displays much mildness, and forms a striking contrast to the deep laid plans formed by the king's party, to deceive and ensnare the Scottish clergy. Soon afterwards (l()40), 3Ir Dickson received an appointment of a much more public and important nature than any he had yet held. A commission for visiting the university of retixed to it a memoir of the author, by Wodrow, to which we have already alluded, and to which we are indebted for many of the facts mentioned in this article.'^ DOIG, Dr David, the son of a small farmer in the county of Angus, was born in the year I71'J. His father dying while he was still an infant, he was in- « History of the suit", of the cliurch of Scotland, al. 1S2S. 9 AVodrow, in his Aniilccta, MS. Advof;itt-s' Library, sets down the followiiig characteristic anecdote of Mr Dickson : " I heard that wiien ]\Ir David Dickson came in to see the lady liglinlouiio, who at the lime had with her the lady Wigton, Cuhoss, &c., and they all cares- fed him very much, he siid, ' Ladies, if all this kindness be to me as Mr David Dickson, J iiin [render] >ou noe thank*, but if it bo to me as a servant of my master, and for his sake, 1 Uike it all wecl.'" DR. DAVID DOIG. 83 debted for subsistence to a stepfather, Avho, although in very modei-ate circuni- Btances, and bux-dencd with a young family, discharged to hini the duty of an atlectionate parent. From a constitutional defect of eyesight, he \vas twelve years of age befoi'e he had learned to read ; he was enabled, however, by the quickness of his intellect, and the constancy of his application, amply to redeem his lost time : his progress was so rapid, that after three years' attendance at tiie parochial school, he was the successful candidate for a bursary in the uni- versity of St Andrews. Having finished the usual elementary course of classical and philosophical education, he took the degree of bachelor of arts, and com- menced the study of divinity, but was prevented from completing his studies by some conscientious scruples regarding certain of the articles in the presbyterian confession of faith. Thus diverted from his original intention of entering the c!iurch, he taught for several yeai's, the parochial schools of 3Ionifeith in Angus, and Kennoway and Falkland in Fifeshire. His great reputation as a teacher then obtained for him, from the magistrates of Stirling, the appointment of rector of the grammar school of that town ; which situation he continued to fill Avith the greatest ability for up^vards of forty years. It is a curious coinci- dence, that on one and the same day, he received from the university of St Andrews a diploma as master of arts, and from the univei'sity of Glasgow, the honorary degree of doctor of laws. — Dr Doig died fliarch 16th, 1800, at the age of eighty-one. In addition to a profound knowledge of the Greek and Latin languages, both of which he wrote with classical purity, Dr Doig had made himself master of the Hebrew, Arabic, and other oriental languages, and was deeply versed in the history and literature of the East. Of his proficiency in the more abstruse learning-, he has atlbrded abundant pi'oof in his dissertations on JSIythology, Mysteries, and Philology , which were written at the request of his intimate friend, and the companion of his social hours, the Rev. Dr George Gleig, and published in the Encyclopfedia Britannica ; of which work, that able and inge- nious clergyman edited the last volumes, and was himself the author of many of the most valuable articles which the book contains. That part of the Encyclo- paedia containing the article Philology, written by Dr Doig, having been pub- lislied in the same week with a Dissertation on the Greek verb, by Dr "S in- cent, afterwards Dean of Westminster, that author was so much struck with the coincidence, in many points, with his own opinions, that he commenced an epistolary correspondence with Dr Doig : and these two eminent philologists, by frequent coummnication, assisted and encouraged each other in their re- searches on these subjects. The same liberal interchange of sentiment charac- terized Dr Doig's correspondence Avith I\Ir Brjant, in their mutual inquiries on tlie subject of ancient mythology. Amongst other proofs A\hich Dr Doig gave of his profound learning, Avas a Dissertation on the Ancient Hellenes, published in the Transactions of the royal society of Edinburgh. The most remarkable event of Dr Doig's literary life, however, Avas his controversy Avith lord Karnes. That eminent philosopher, in his Essay on 3Ian, had maintained, as the foundation of his system, that man Avas originally in an entirely savage state, and that by gradual improvement, he rose to his present condition of diA-ersified civilization. These opinions were combated by Dr Doig, Avho endeavoured to prove, that they Avere neither supported by sound reason, nor by historical fact ; Avhile they Avere at the same time irreconcileable Avith the Mosaic account of the creation. In the bible, the historical details of the earliest period present man in a comparatively advanced state ot civiliza- tion ; and if Ave resort to profane history, Ave find that the earliest historical records are confirmatory of the sacred books, and represent civilization as fioAv 84 DR. DAVID DOIG. iiijj from those porlions of the j,rlobe — from tlie banks of the Euphrates and the Nile — which the biblical liistory describes as the seal of the earliest civilization. 3Ioderu hi.^tory is eciually favourable to Uv Uoig's system. In liastern Asia, we liiid nations remaining- for thousands of years in identiciilly the same state of improvement, or if they luive moved at all, it has been a retrograde move- nifiil. In Africa also, we perceive man in precisely the same condition in which the Greek and Koman writers represent him to have been two thousand years ago. Europe alone affords an example of progress in civilization, and that progress may be easily traced to intercourse with the eastern nations, fllan seems to possess no power to advance unassisted, beyond the first stage of barbarism. According to Or liobertson, " in every stage of society, the faculties, the senti- ments, and tlie desires of men, are so acconnuodated to their own state, that tiiey become standards of excellence to themselves ; they affix the idea of per- fection and happiness to those attainments which resemble their own, and where- ever the objects of enjoyment to which they have been accustomed are wanting, confidently pronounce a people to be barbarous and miserable." The impedi- ments which prejudice and national vanity thus oppose to improvement were mainly broken down in Europe by the crusades and their consequences, whereby the civilization of the East >vas dirt'used through the several nations in Europe. America presents the only instance of a people having advanced considerably in civilization unassisted, apparently, by external intercourse. The Mexicans and I'eruvians, when first discovered, were greatly more civilized than the surround- ing tribes : but although this be admitted, yet, as it still remains a debateable question whence the people of America derived their origin, and as the most plausible theory represents them as having migrated from the nations of eastern Asia, it may, after all, be contended, that the Mexicans and Peruvians had rather retrograded than advanced, and that, in truth, they only retained a portion of the civilization which they originally derived from the same common soia-ce. Dr Doig's controversy with lord Kames was maintained in two letters ad- dressed to his lordship, but which were not published until 17'J3, several years after tiie death of lord Kames ; they led, however, to an innuediate intimacy between the controvertists, of the commencement of which we have an interest- ing anecdote. — The first of these letters '' dated from Stirling, but without the subscription of the writer, was transmitted to lord Kames, who was then passing the Christinas vacation at Blair-Drummond ; his curiosity was roused to discover the author of a composition which bore evidence of a most uncommon degree of learning and ingenuity. In conversing on the subject with an intimate friend, Dr (jJraham Moir of Leckie, a gentleman of taste and erudition, and of great scientific knowledge, who frequently visited him in the country, his lordship producing the letter of his anonymous correspondent, * In the name of wonder,' said he, ' Doctor, wiiat prodigy of learning have you got in the town of Stirling, w ho is ciipable of writing this letter, which I received a few days ago ?' The doctectiliar cast of his niind, whitli led him to discuss metaphysics as he cut out uloves on his Itoard. Tlie son inherited the same ]>eculiarity, but to an excess which proved injurious to him. His father very prudently did not allow his metaphysics to interfere with liis trade ; but young Donaldson, disregarding all the ordinary means of forwarding his own particular interests, devoted hini- self Avith disinterested philanthropy to the promotion of various fanciful projects for ameliorating the condition of his fellow creatures. The result was precisely w hat might have been anticipated ; for although Donaldson liad endowments sufficient to raise him to distinction and opulence, his talents were in eflect tiirown away, and ho died in indigence. While yet a child, lie was constantly occupied in drawing with dialk, on his father's cutting-board, those objects around him which attracted his attention. 'Ihis natural propensity was encou- raged by his father, and such was his success, that tlie boy had hardly com- pleted liis twelfth year, when he was enabled to contribute to liis own support by drawing miniatures in India-ink. At that time, too, his imitations with the pen, of the works by Albert Durer, Aldegrave, and other ancient en- gravers, were so exquisite as to excite the astonishment and admiration of men of the most accomplished taste, and to deceive the eye of the most experienced connoisseurs. After prosecuting his profession for several years in lidinburgli, he removed to London, and for some time painted likenesses in miniature, with great success. But at length, the mistaken Hotions of jdiilanthropy just alluded to, gained such an ascendancy over his mind, as entirely to ruin his prospects. He conceived, that in morals, religion, policy, and taste, mankind were radi- cally wrong ; and, neglecting his profession, he employed himself in devising schemes for remedying this universal error. These schemes were the constant subject of his conversation ; and, latterly, this infirmity gained so much upon him, that he reckoned the time bestowed on his professional avocations as lost to the world. He now held his former pursuits in utter contempt ; and maintained that Sir .Toshua Reynolds must be a very dull fellow, to devote his life to the study of lines and tints. He completely neglected In's business, and has been known to deny himself to lord North, because he was not in the hu- mour to paint. There was another unhappy peculiarity in his character, which contributed in no inconsiderable degree to mar his success. He was remark- able (until overwhelmed by adversity) for a sarcastic and epigrammatic turn : the indiscreet indulgence in which, lost him many friends. Even while persons of consideration were sitting to him, he would get up and leave tliem, that he might finish an epigram, or jot down a happy thought. It may well be supposed tliat, with every allowance for the whims and eccentricities of men of genius, absurdities such as these were not to be tolerated. Nor is it at all Avonderful, tliat as an artist, he retrograded ; and ultimately, from want of practice, lost much of that facility of execution, which had gained him celebrity in his early years. To such a man the experience of the world leaches no lesson. He sa^v with chagrin, the rise of greatly inferior artists ; but failed to make that refor- niation in himself, which would have ena])led him to surpass most of his contem- poraries. At the same time, he was far from being idle, as the mass of manu- script scraps which he left behind him, abundantly testify. These manuscripts, however, were found in a state too unfinished and confused, to admit of their coming before the public. His only acknowledged publiciitions were " An Essay on tlie Elements of Beauty,-''' and a volume of poems; and jMr Edwards, in his supplement to Walpole's anecdotes of painters, attributes to Donaldson, a pamphlet publislied anonymously, entitled " Critical Observations and Be- WALTER DONALDSON.— JOHN DOUGALL. 87 marks upon the Public Buildings of London.''^ Before lie became disgusted Avith his profession, lie had painted his noil known historical picture of 77;e 'J'ent of Darius ; which gained him the prize from the society of arts, and Avas justly admired for its great beauty. About the same time he executed two paintings in enamel, " The Death of Dido,'''' and " The Story of Hero and Leander,'''' both of which obtained prizes from the same society. Ihese two paintings were so much admired, that ho ^vas ui-ged by his friends to do others in the same style ; but no persuasion could induce him to make the attempt. At that time many persons of rank and title honoured liiui with their patronage. The earl of Biichan, in particular, was very much his llfiend, and purchased the Tent of Darius, and several other of his paintings, together with one or both of the enamels. Donaldson's likenesses, both in black-lead and in colours, were striking; of which the head of Hume the historian, prefixed to Strachan and Cadell's edition of the History of England, was accounted a very favourable specimen. Among the various pursuits of this eccentric individual, chemistry was one ; in the prosecution of which, he discovered a method of preserving meat and vegetables uncorrupted, during the longest voyages. For this discovery he ob- tained a patent; but his poverty and indolence, and his ignoi'ance of the world, prevented his turning it to any account. The last twenty yeai'S of his life were spent in gx'eat misery. His eye-sight had failed ; but even before that misfor- tune, his business had left him ; and he was frequently destitute of the ordinary necessaries of life. His last illness Avas occasioned by his having slept in a newly painted room, which brouglit on a total debility. His friends then re- moved him to lodgings near Islington, where he received every attention which his case required, until his death, which took place on the 11th of October, 1301. He was buried in Islington church-yard. Donaldson was a man of very rare endowments, and of great talents ; addicted to no vice ; and remark- able for the most abstemious moderation. The great and single error of his life, was his total neglect of his profession, at a time when his talents and op- portunities held out the certainty of his attaining the vgry highest rank as an artist. DONALDSON, Walter, was born in Aberdeen, and attained to some conside- ration among the learned men of the seventeenth century. He Mas in the I'etinue of bishop Cunningham of Aberdeen, and Peter Junius, grand-almoner of Scotland, when they were sent on an embassy from king- James VI. to the court of Denmark and to the princes of Germany. After his return from this expedition he again went abroad, and delivered a course of lectures on moral phi- losophy at Heidelberg. One of his pupils having taken notes of these lectui'es, published them ; an encroachment on his rights with which Donaldson seems not to have been much displeased, for he infomns us, with apparent complacency, tliat several editions of the work were published both in Germany and in Great Britain, under the title of Synopsis Moralis Philosophice. He was afterwards appointed pi-ofessor of the Greek language and principal of the university of Sedan, which situation he retained for sixteen years ; he was then invited to open a college at Charenton, but the pi'oposed establishment was objected to as illegal, and appears to have gone no farther. While this matter was pending in the courts of law, Donaldson employed himself in preparing his Synop.us (Economica, which he published in Paris in 8vo, in 1(320, and dedi(ated to the prince of Wales. This work was republislied at Rostock in 1624, in 8vo. DOUGALL, John, Mas born in Kirkaldy in Fifeshire, where his father Mas the master of the granmiar school. After receiving the ]»rimary branches of education at home, he proceeded to the university of Edinburgh, Mhere he 88 SIR CHARLES DOUGLAS. Btiulied for some time, witli the intention of entcrino- the church of Scotland; hut afterwards changing his design, he devoted liiniself principally to classical learning, for which his mind was unusually gifted. He also directed his at- tention to the study of matiiomatics, of ancient and modern geography, and of the modern languages, including most of those of northern Europe. He made the tour of the continent several times in the capacity of tutor and travelling companion Afterwards he was private secretary to the learned general Mel- \ ille ; and ultimately he estihlished himself in London, where he dedicated his life to literary pursuits. He was the author of Military Adventures, 8vo, T/te Modern Preceptor, 2 vols. 8vo, T/ie Cabinet of Arts, includincj Arithmetic, Geometry, and Chemistry, 2 vols. 8vo. ; and contributed besides to many scientific and literary works ; particularly to the pei-iodical publications of the day. He also engaged in the translation of works from the French and Italian languages. For many years he employed himself, under the patronage of the late duke of York, in preparing a new translation of Caesar's Commentaries, with copious notes and illustrations. This work, however, he did not live to complete, which is much to be regretted, as from his classical knowledge he nmst have rendered it highly valuable. He had likewise intended to prepare an English translation of Strabo, as well as to clear up many doubtful jvissages in Polybius, for which he was eminently qualified ; but the want of encourage- ment and the narrowness of his circumstances frustrated his wishes. Reduced, in the evening of his life, to all the miseries of indigence and neglect, he sunk, after a long and severe illness, into the grave, in the yecar 1822, leaving his aged widow utterly destitute and unprovided for ; and aftbrding in himself an instructive but painful example of the hardships to which, unless under very favourable circumstances, men even of extraordinary attainments, are apt to be reduced, when, forsaking the ordinary paths of professional industry, they yield to the captivations of literature. DOUGLAS, (Sib) Charles, a distinguished naval officer, was a native of Scotland; but we have not learned where he was born, nor to what fam- ily he belonged. His exluciition must have been very good, as he could speak no fewer than six different European languages with perfect cori-ectness. He was originally in the Dutch service, and it is said that he did not obtain rank in the British navy without great difficulty. In the seven years' war, which commenced in 175;i, he was promoted through the various raidts of the service till he became post-captain. At the conclusion of the war in 17(53, he went to St Petersburg, his majesty having previously confeiTed upon him the rank of baronet. On the war breaking out with Ameri<',a in 1775, Sir Charles had a broad pendant given him, and connnanded the squadron employed in the Gulf of St Lawrence. His services on this station were, after his return to England, rewarded with very flattering honours, and he soon after obtained «;ommand of the Duke, 98 guns. Sir Charles was remarkable not only as a linguist, but also for his genius in mechanics. He suggested the substitution of locks for matches in nav.al gunnery ; an improvement innnediately adopted, and which proved of vast service to the Ikitish navy. On the 2'1'th of November, 1781, he was appointed first (\iptain to Sir George Rodney, then about to sail on his second expedition to the West hulies. Sir George, having hoisted his flag in the Formidable, Douglas assumed the conunand of that vessel, and they sailed on the 15tli of .fanuary, 1782, from Torbay. On the 12th of April, took place the t;clebrated engagement with tlie French fleet, in which the British gained a most splendid victory, chiefly, it is supposed, in consequence of the Formidable having been directed across the enemy's line. In our memoir of Mr Clerk of Eldin, we have recorded j>art of the controversy which has been SIR CHAULES DOUGLAS. 89 carried on respecting the orig^inator of this idea. It was there shown, that Sir Cluirles Douglas utterly denied the claims of 3Ir Clerk : we must now show what claims have been put loruard for himself. Douglas, it must he remarked, was an officer of too high principle to make any claims himself. He thought it a kind of insubordination for any one to claim more honour tluin what was al- lowed to him by his superiors in the despatches or in the gazette. Hence, whenever any one hinted at the concern which he was generally supposed to liare had in suggesting the measure, he always turned the conversation, re- marking in general terms, " We had a great deal to do. Sir, and I believe you will allow we did a great deal." Tlie claim has been put forward by his son, major-general Sir Howard Douglas, who, at the same time, speaks in the following tei-ms of his father's delicacy upon the subject : " He never, I repeat, asserted, or would accept, when complimented upon it, greater share in the honour of the day, than what had been publicly and officially given him, and I am sure his spii-it would not approve of my reclaiming any laurels of that achievement from the tomb of his chief." The principal proof brought forward by Sir Howard consists of the following extract from a letter by Sir Charles Dashwood, a surviving actor in the engagement of the 12th of April, though then only thirteen years of age. " Being one of the aides-de-camp to the com- mander-in-chief on that memorable day, it was my duty to attend both on him and the captain of the fleet, as occasion might require. It so happened, that some time after the battle had commenced, and whilst we were severely en- gaged, I was standing near Sir Charles Douglas, who was leaning on the ham- mocks (which in those days were stowed across the fore part of the quarter-deck), his head leaning on his one hand, and his eye occasionally glancing on the enemy's line, and apparently in deep meditation, as if some great event Avere crossing his mind : suddenly raising his head, and turning quickly round, he said, 'Dash, w here's Sir George ?' 'In the after-cabin, Sir,' I replied. He immediately went aft : I followed ; and on meeting Sir George coming from the cabin, close to the wheel, he took off his cocked hat with his i-ight hand, holding his long spy-glass in his left, and. making a low and profound bow, said, ' Sir George, I give you joy of the victory I' — ' Poh !' said the chief, as if half angry, * the day is not half won yet.' — ' Break the line. Sir George I' .said Douglas, * the day is your own, and I will ensure you the victorj.' — ' No,' said the adraii-al, ' I will not break my line.' After another request and another re- fusal, Sir Charles desired the helm to be put a-port ; Sir George ordered it to starboard. On Sir Charles again ordering it to port, the admiral sternly said, * Kemember, Sir Charles, that I am commander-in-chief, — starboard. Sir,' ad- dressing the master, who during this controverey had placed the helm amidsliips. ITie admiral and captain then separated: the former going aft, and the latter going forward. In the com-se of a couple of minutes or so, each turned and again met nearly on the same spot, when Sir Charles quietly and coolly again ad- dressed the chiel' — 'Only break the line. Sir George, and the day is your own.' The admiral then said in a quick and humed ^vay, ' Well, well, do as you like,' and immediately turned round, and walked into the after-cabin. The words ' Port the helm,' were scarcely uttered, when Sir Charles ordered me dowTi with directions to commence firing on the starboard side. On my return to the quarter-deck, I found the Formidable passing between two French ships, each nearly touching us. We were followed by the Namur, and the rest of the ships astern, and from that moment the victory was decided in our favour." Referring the reader for a further discussion of this controversy to the S3d number of the Quarterly Review, we may mention that lord Rodney never failed to confess tliat the advantages of the day were gi-eatly improved by Sir so GAVIN DOUGLAS. Charles DoiigLis. After the conclusion of the war, the gallant officer ^vas in- trusted with the command of the Nora Scotia sUition, which, however, he re- sig;ned in consequence of some proceedings of tlie Nav^- Board with which he was displeased. During the preparations for war in 17 5?, he was promoted to the rank of rear-adiuiral, and next year he uas re-appointed to the Nora Scotia station. He expired, however, 'januar>- 17 •jQ, in the act of entering a public meetins at Edinburgh, a stroke of apoplexy luinng cut him otf in a single moment. Over and above all his claims to the honours of the l-2th of April, he let't the cluraaer of a brave and honest officer. His mechanical in- rentions liave been followed up by his son, Sir Howard, whose work on naval gunnery is a book of standard excellence. DOL'GL.\S, Gavlv, one of the most eminent of our early poets, was the third and younsest son of Archibald, tifih earl of Angus, by Elizabeth Eoyd, only daugh- ter of Robert, lord Boyd, hi?h chamberlain of ScotLini The earls of Ajigus were a vounser branch of the family of Douglas, and helped, in the reign of James II., to depress the enormous power of the main stock: whence it was said, with a reference to the complexions of the two diJierent races, that the red Douglas had put down the black: Archibald, the filth earl, father to the poet, is noted in our history for his bold conduct respecting the favourites of James III., at Lauder, which gained him the nickname of Bell-t he-cat. His general force of character amidst the mighty transactions in which he was en- gaged, caused him to be likewise designated " the great earh"' According to the family historian, he «as every way accomplished, both in body and mind; of suiture ull, and strong made ; his countenance full of majesty, and such as bred reverence in the beholders : mse, and eloquent of speech : upright and regular in his actions ; sober, and moderate in his desires : valiant and coura- geous ; a man of action and undertaking : liberal also : loving and kind to his friends ; which made hiui to be beloved, reverenced, and respected by all men. Gavin Douslas, the son of such a father, was l>om about llie year 1474, and was brought up for the cljurch. Wliere his education was conmienced, is un- known ; but, according to 3Ir Warton, there is certain evidence that it was finished in the university of Paris. He is supposed, in youth, to have travelled for some lime over the continent, in order to make liimseli acquainted ^uth the manners of other countries. In li'Jti, ^\hen only twenty-two years of age, he was appointed rector of Hawick, a benefice probably in the gii'i of his family, which has Ion? held kirge property and lush influence in that part of the coun- try. We are informed by the family historian, that in youth he felt the pangs of love, but was soon freed from the t\Tanny of that unreasonable passion. Probably his better principles proved sufficient to keep in check what his naiu- lal feelings, aided by ilie poetical temperament, would have dictated. How- ever, he appears to have signalized his triumph, by vmiing a transLition of Ovid's " Remedy of Love.'' He alludes in a strange manner to this work, in his translation of Virgil ; giving the following free reading of the well known passage in the .'Kneid, where his author speaks of the Bucolics and Georgics, as baring been his former compositions : So thus follo^vand the flcure of poetry, The battellis and the man traiislate have I, Quhilk \ore ago in m>-ne undauntit youth L'nfructuous idelnes fleand. as I couth, Of Oridtis Lufe the Remede did translate, And sjTie of Lie Honour the Palice wrate. In tho6e da)S, it dres not seem to have been considered the duty of a translator to put himself exactly into the place of the author ; he was permitted to substitute GAVIN DOUGLAS. 91 r.jodern allusions for the origiii.il, and, as this specimen testifies, to alter any personality respecting the author, so as to apply to himself. The translation of the " Remedy of Love," uhich must have been Avritten before the year 1501, has not been presened. In the year just mentioned, he urote his " Palace of Honour," an apologue for the conduct of a king, and Avhich he therefore ad- dressed, vei-j' appropriately, to his young sovereign, king James IV. The poet, in a vision, linds himself in a wilderness, whei'e he sees troops of persons ti-avelling towards the palace of honour. He joins himself to the train of tlie muses, and in their company proceeds to the happy place. At this point of the allegory, his description of one of their resting places is exceedingly beautiful : Our horses pasturit on ane pleasand plarie, Law at the foot of ane fair grene moiit;me, Amid ajie meid, shaddowit with cedar trees, Safe fra all heit, thair miglit we weil remain. All kind of herbis, flouris, fruit, and grain, With every grow.ind tree thair men might cheis, The beryal streams rinnand ower stanerie greis, Made sober noise ; the shair dimiit again, For birdis sjmg, and sounding of the beis. In his last adventure, he seems to allude to the law of celibacy, under wliicli, as a priest, he necessarily lay. llie habitation of the honourable ladies (which he describes in gorgeous terms) is surrounded by a deep ditch, over which is a narrow bridge, formed of a single tree ; and this is supposed to re- present the cex'emony of marriage. Upon his attempting to pass over the bridge, he falls into the water, and awakes from his dream. Of this poem, the earliest known edition is one printed at London, in 1553, in quarto. Another appear- ed at Edinburgh, in 1579, being printed *' by Johne Koos, for Heni7 Char- teris :" both are very rare. In the pi-eface, however, to the Edinburgh edition, the printer mentions, that " besides the coppie printed at London, there were copyis of this wark set furth of auld amang ourselfis." These are totally lost to bibliographical research. There is some probability, however, that some of them appeared before 1513, as a work by Florence Wilson, entitled " De Tranquiilitate Animi," and printed in that year, is said to be an imitation of the Palace of Honour. Sage, in his life of Douglas, prefixed to the edition of the iEneid, thus speaks of the poem under our notice : " The author's ex«;ellent design is, under the similitude of a vision, to represent the vanity and incon- stancy of all \vorldly pomp and glory ; and to show, that a constant and inflexi- ble course of virtue and goodness, is the only way to true honour and felicity, which he allegorically describes, as a magnificent palace, situated on the top of a very high mountain, of a most difficult access. He illustrates the whole with a variety of examples, not only of those noble and heroic souls, whose eminent virtues procured them admission into tliat blessed place, but also of those wretch- ed creatures, whose vicious lives have fatally excluded them from it for ever, notwithstanding of all their worldly state and grandeur." This critic is of opinion that the poet took his plan from the palace of happiness described in the "Tablet" of Cebes. There is, however, a probability of a still more in- teresting nature, Avith which we are impressed. This is, liiat Bunyan must have adopted his idea of the Pilgrim's Progi-ess from the "Palace of Honour." In the whole structure of these two works, there is a marked resemblance. Both are dreams, representing a journey towards a place superior to the nature ot this world. In the one, the pilgrim of honour, in the other, the pilgiim of Christianity, ai-e the heroes ; and both are conducted by supernatural beings, on a march renresented as somewliat trying to human strength. It is curious, also 02 GAVIN DOUGLAS. tliat v.liile (lie journey ends, in both cases, at a place full of celestial glories, tiiere is, in both cases, a liuibo, or lieli, by tlie way side, a little before the ulti- mate olijoct is reached. In ail probability, these poems were written at his residence in the town of Hawick, where he was surrounded with scenery in tiie higlicst degree calcu- lated to nurse a poetical fancy. In 150!), he was nominated to be provost of the collegiate church of St diles, at Edinburgh, and it is likely that lie then changed his residence to the capital. Some years before, he had contemplated a translation of the yT-^neid into Scottish verse, as appears from his Palace of Il()nour, where Venus presents him with a copy of that poem, in the original, and, in virtue of her relation to the hero, requests the poet to give a version of it in his vernacular tongue. In his preface to the work, he thus explains the real earthly reason of his engaging in such a labour : And that je kiiaw at quliais instance I take For to translate tliis maist excellent buke, I mene Virgillis volum, maist excellent, Set this my werk full febill be of rent. At the request of ane lorde of renowne, Of ancestry maist nobill, and illustir baroun, Fadir of bukis, protector to science and lair, My special gude lord Henry loid Sinclare. Quhilk with great instance, diverse tymes, sere Pra_\it me translate Virgil or Homcre, Quliais plesure soithlie, ;is I undirstude, As near conjonit to his lordship in blude ;* So that methocht his request ane command, Half desparit tliis werk I tuke on hand, Not fully grantand, nor an) s sayand ye, Bot only to assay how it miclit be. Quhay micht gainsay a lorde sa gentil and kind. That ever had ony courtesy in thair m\nd? Quhilk beside his innative policy, Humanite, courage, freedom, and ehevelry, Bukis to recollect, to reid, and see, Hes great del) te as ever had Ptolome. At the urgent request of this literary nobleman, which seems to have been necessary to get over the diffidence of the poet himself, Douglas commenced his labours in January, 1511-12, and although he prefaced each book with an original poem, and included the poem written by Mapheus Vigius'^ as a thir- teenth book, the whole was completed in eighteen months, two of which, he tells us, were spent exclusively in other business. The work was completed on the 2;ind of July, 151.3. The " TKneid " of Gavin Douglas is a work credita- ble in the highest degree to Scottish literature, not only from the specific merit of the translation, but because it Avas the first translation of a Roman classic executed in the English language.' To adopt the criticism of Dr Irving — " Without pronouncing it the best version of this poem that ever was, or ever will be executed, we may at least venture to affirm, that it is the production of a bold and energetic writer, whose knowledge of the language of his original, 1 Mini)', first lord Sinclair, was grandson to lady ]\Targaret Douglas, daughter of Arelii- bald, luiiilh earl of Douglas. IJe Jell at Flodden. 2 A learned Italian of the fifteenth centur)'. 3 The near aflinity of the languages of England and Scotland at this time, renders any cir- cumlocutory nidde of expressing this idea unnecessar\ . GAVIN DOUGLAS. 93 and prompt command of appointinent on finding that the copy wjis a great deal more unintelligible than the original, and tliat, iji reality, he of St Giles stood more in need of a translator than he of AJantua ! 3 Fallow. * Shadows. * Lightning. ' Flakes. GAVIN DOUGLAS. 93 Woddis, forrestis, with naket bewsblout, Stude stripit of their wede in every bout • So bustouslie Boreas his bugiH blew, The dere full dome full in the dailis drew: * * * * • The watter 1) nnys routes, and every lynd Quhistlit and brjyit of the southend wjnd : Pure lauboraris and b}ss)' husbandmen. Went weet and wery draiglit in the fen ; J ' The siUy sheep and thare little hird-gromes Lurkis under lye of bankis, woddis, and bromea; And utheris dautit greter bestial Within thare sUibill sosit in thare stall. ***** The caller air, penetrative and pure, Dasing the blude in every creature, IMade seik warm stovis and bene fyris hote, In doubill garment clad, and welecote, With mychty drink, and metis comfortive, iAganis the stern winter for to strive. Repattirit' wele, and by the chymnay bekit, At evin betym doun in the bed they strekit, Warpit my hede, kest on claithis thr3Tiefald, For to expell the perillous persand cald : I crossit me, svne bo\TOit for to sleep : * * * * • Approacliing near the braking of the day, Witliin my bed I walk}Tiint quhare I lay So fast declynes Cynthia the mone. And ka) is keklj s on the rufe abone, ***** Fast by my chalmer, on hie \visnet treis, The sary gled quhissilis with mony ane pevr. Quharby the day was da wing wiel I knew; Bade bete the f) re and the candill alicht, SjTie blessit me, and in my wedis d^cht ; Ane schot-windo 8 unschet, ane litel on char, Persavyt the morning blae, ^^-Jiii, and har, Wyth cloudy gum and rak owirquhelmyt the air; ***** Blaiknyt schew the braj is, With hiretis harsk of waggand w^ndil stra)TS, The dew-droppis congelit on stibbil and vynd. And sharp hailstanj-s mortfundyit of kynd, Stoppand on the thack, and on the causay by; The schote I closit, and drew inward in hy; Cheverand of cald, the sessoun was sa snell, Schafe with hait fiambis to steme the freezing feD. And as I bounit me to the fire me by, Baith up and do\vne the house I did espj' ; And seeand Virgil on ane letteron^ stand. To wryte anone I eynt my pen in hand, ' V^ ell solaced with victuals^ 8 a kind of sliding panel in the fronts of old wooden houses. 9 Desk. i)6 GAVIN DOUGLAS. And as I culd, with fine fiild diligence Tliis nint bukc lollowund of profound science, Thus lias begun in the chill W) liter cald, Quhen frostis dois owir flete baith firth and fald. Lest tlie reader should find that he loses the force of this dcsciiption throuirh tlie obscurity of tlie language, it appears proper that he should iiave another specimen in a dili'erent form. We shall therefore lay before him part of a prose paraphrase executed by IMr Warton, \vhicii conveys the same ideas as the original, though in a less pleasing form. The experiment of tliis version, ac- cording to 31r Warton, must serve to show the native excellence of these com- positions. Divested of poetic numbei-s and expression, they still retain their poetry, appearing like Ulysses, still a king and a conqueror, although disguised like a peasant, and lodged in the cottage of the herdsman Eumseus. — We quote from the description of May, in the twelfth prologue : " The cr^stal gates of heaven were thrown open to illuminate the world. The glittering streamers of the orient diffused purple streaks, mingled with gold and azure. The steeds of the sun, in red harness of rubies, of colour brown as a berry, lifted their lieads above the sea, to glad our hemisphere: the flames burst from their nostrils : while shortly, appa- relled in his luminous array, Phoebus, bearing the blazing torch of day, issued from his royal palace, with a golden crown, glorious visage, curled locks bright as the chrjsolite or topaz, and with a radiance intolerable. The fiery sparks, bursting from his eyes, purged the air, and gilded the nevv verdure. The golden vanes of his throne covered the ocean with a glittering glance, and the broad waters were all in a blaze at the first glimpse of his appear- ance. It was glorious to see the winds appeased, the sea becalmed, the soft season, the serene firmament, the still air, and the beauty of the watery scene i" The silver-scaled fishes, on the giT.vel, gliding hastily, as it were from the heat or sun, through clear streams, with fins shining brown as cinnabar, and chisel Uiils, darted here and there. The new lustre, enlight- ening all the land, beamed on the small pebbles on the sides of the rivers, and on the strands, which looked like beryl: while the refiection of the ra}S played on the banks in variegated gleams ; and Flora threw forth her blooms under the feet of the sun's brilliant horses, the bladed soil was embroidered with various hues. Both wood and forest were darkened with boughs •, which, refiected from the ground, gave a shadowy lustre to the red rocks. Towers, turrets, battlements, and high pinnacles of churches, castles, and every fair city, seemed to be painted ; and, together with every bastion and story, expressed their own shape on the plains. The glebe, fearless of the northern blasts, spread her broad bosom. The corn crops, and the new-sprung barle)', redothed the earth with a gladsome garment. The varie- gated vesture of the valley covered the cloven furrow, and the barle}' lands were diversified with flowery weeds. The meadow was besprinkled with rivulets; and the fresh moisture ot the dewy night restored the herbage which the cattle had cropped in the day. The blossoms in the blowing garden trusted Ihcir heads to the protection of the young sun. Kank ivy leaves overspread the wall of the rampart. The blooming hawthorn clothed all his thorns in flowers. The budding clusters of the tender vines hung end-long, by their tendrils, from the trellises. The gems of the trees unlocking, expanded themselves into the foliage of nature's tajiestry. There was a soft verdure after balmy showcis. The flowers smiled in various 10 The original is here so much more beautiful, that we must be pardoned an extract: The auiiale |ihaiii,s of his trone soverane, AVith gliltiiiiif; glance owirspred the octiane The large tliulis Icniand all of licht Bui with aiie blink of liis supernale sicht ; For to hehald it was ane glore to se 'J'/ie skibilli/t wi/udys, and llie calmyt ae, The soft sessnun, t/ie /irmiiment serene, "J'he Inuiie iUuiniiuUe air, and firth atnene, &c. GAVIN DOUGLAS. 97 colours on the ber.;ling stalks." Some roJ, &c. Others watcht^t like the blue and w-;ivy sea; speckled with red aiui wliite ; or bright as gold, the daisy unbraided her little coronet, tlie grapes stood embattled with banewort. The seeded down flew from the dandelioa Young weeds appeared amon^ the leaves of the strawberries. Gay gilliflowers, &c. The rose buds putting forth, oflered their red vernal lips to be kissed ; and ditlused fragrance from the crisp scarlet that surrounded their golden seeds. Lillies with white curling tops, showed their crests open. The oiiorous vapour moistened the silver webs tliat hung from the leaves. The plain w.is powdered with round dewy pearls. From every bud, scion, herb, and flower, bathed in liquid fragrance, the bee sucked sweet honey. The swans clamoured amidst the rustlii;g weeds, and searched all the lakes and grey rivers where to build their nests. Among the boughs of the twisted olive, the small birds framed their art- ful nests, or along the thick hedges, or rejoiced with their merry mates on the tall oaks. In the secret nooks, or in the clear windows of gkiss, the spider full busily wove her sly net, to ensnare the little gnat or f[\. Under the boughs that screen the valley, or within the pale- enclosed park, the nimble deer trooped in ranks, the harts wandeied through the thick woody shaws, and the young fawns followed the dappled does. Kids skipped through the briars after the roes, and in the pastures and leas, the lambs, full tight and trig, went bleaU ing to their dams. IMeantime dame nature's minstrels raise their amorous notes, the ring- dove coos and pitches on the tall copse, the starling whistles her varied descant, the sparrow chirps in the clefted wall, the goldfinch and linnet filled the skies, the cuckoo cried, the quail twittered ; while rivers, shaws, and every dale resounded ; and the tender branches trembled on the trees, at the song of tlie birds, and the buzzing of the bees." The original poet concludes with the following fine apostrophe S Welcum the lord of licht, and lampe of day, Welcum fosterare of tender herbis grene, Welcum quickener of flurest flouris schene, Welcum support of ei'ery rute and vane, Welcum comfort of all kind frute and grane, Welcum the birdis beild upon the brier, Welcum maister and ruler of the year, Welcum weiifiire of husbands at the plewis, Welcum repairer of woddis, treis, and bewis Welcum depainter of the blomyt niedis, Welcum the 1_\ f of every thing that spedis, Welcum storare of all kind btstial, Welcum be thy bricht beams gladand all ! As a still further expedient for making modern readers acquainted with the beauties of this ancient poet and honour of our country, we have ventured up- on the somewhat hazardous experiment of a vei-sified translation ; taking for this purpose the description of a June evening, from the prologue to tite thirteentli book, and entering before hand the following protest, furnished to oui- hands by tlie poet himself: " I set my besy pane, As that I couth, to mak it brade and plane, Kepand no Sudroun, bot our awin language, And speke as I lemed quhen I wts ane page:** Na )it so clene all Sudroun I refuse, Bot some worde I pronunce as njcliboure dois ; *1 The loukit buttouns on the gemyt treis Owerspredand le^^s of naturis tapestnis, Soft gresy verdure eftir balmy schouris. On curland stalks sniilan'L to ihairjtouris. i^Boy. ^ 98 GAVIN DOUGLAS. Like as in Latuie bene Grewe termos sum,'^ SJo me bcluiffit quliilom or be duin. From ba.-tanl Latine, French, or Inglis ois, Quhare scant "t s Sccttis, I had nane uther chois ; Not lliat our tongue is in the selvin scant, Bot that 1 the fouth of language wiuit." This bt'iiig prefaced, here follows the modern Anglo-Scottish version •. During die jolly joyous month of June, \VhLn "aue ^^-:ts nwir the day, and supper dune, I walkit lurth to taste the evening air. Among the fields that were repltnish'd fair, With herbage, com, and cattle, and fruit trees, Plenty of store ; while birds and busy bees. O'er emerald meadows flew baith east and west, Thtir labour done, to take their evening rest. As up and down I cast my wandering eye, All burning red straight grew the western sky The sun descending on the waters grey, Deep under earth withdrew his beams away. The evening star, with lustre near as bright, Springs up, the gay fore-rider of the m'ght. Amid the hauglis and every pleasant vale, The recent dew begins on herbs to skail. To quench the burning where the sim had shone, Which to the world beneath had lately gone. On every pile a:id pickle of the crops. This moisture liang, like burning ber\l drops, And on the kJesome herbs, and eke the weeds Like chrystiil gems, or little silver beads. The light began to fail, the mists to rise. And here and there grim shades o'erspread the skife ; The bald and leathern bat commenced her flight. The lark descended from her airy height, Singing her pkiintive song, after her wyse, To take her rest, at matin hour to rise. Mists sweep the lull before the lazy wind. And night unfolds her cloak with sable lined. Swaddling the beauty of the fruitful ground, Witli cloth of shade, obscurit) profound ; All creatures, whercsoe'er they liked the best, Then went to take tlitir pleasant nightly rest. The fowls thiit lattly flew throughout the air. The drowsy eitlle in their sheltered lair, After the heat and kilx)ur of Uie day, Unstirring ;uid unstirred in slumber lay. Each thing tluit roves the meadow or the wood, Each thing thiit flit-S tlnough air, or dives in flood. Each thing tk.t mstles in the bosky bank. Or lovis to rustle through the marshes dank, The little midgis,'* and the happy flees,'* Laborious emmets, and the busy bees, All beasts, or wild or tame, or great or small, God's peace and blessing rests serene o'er all. 13 As in La:in there are some Greek terms. >« Gnat" — t.^tmng epheTiiera. '» Flies GAVIN DOUGLAS. 09 It remains to be mentioned that the translation of Vircril, being "written at a time when printing liardly existed in Scotland, continued in manuscript till iong^ after tlie death of bishop Douo^las, and was first published at London in 1553, at tlie same time uitJi the * Falice of Honour.' The work bore the fol- lowing title : " The xiii. bukes of Eneados of the famose poet Yiro-ill, Trans- btet out of Latyne verees into Scottisli meter, by the reverend father in God, Mayster Gawin Doiisrlas, bishop of Dunkel, and unkil to the erle of Angus. Euery buke hauing hys particular prologue." A second edition was printed at Edinburgh in 1710, by the celebrated Thomas Ruddiman, with a life b\ bishop Sage. Eren this later impression is now rarely met with. The earl of Angus was at this time possessed of great inlluenc« at court, in virtue of which he filled the office of chief magistrate of the city. I^ess than two months after Gavin Dougks liad finished his translation, the noble provrst and all his ret^ainers, accompanied king James on the fatal expedition which terminated in the battle of llodden. Here the poefs two elder brothers, the Master of Angus and Sir William Dougbs of Glenbervie, fell, with two hundred gentlemen of their name. The earl himself had previously ^\ithdrawn from the expedition, on account of an unkind expression used by his imprudent sovereign. He died, however, within a twelvemonth thereafter, of grief, leaving his titles and inmiense tenitorial influence to the heir of his eldest deceased son, and who wtis consequently nephew to the Provost of St Giles. It is curious to find that, on the 30th of September, only three weeks after his country had experienced one of the greatest disasters recorded in her historj', and by which himself had lost two brotliers and many other friends, the poet was admitted a burgess of Edinburgh. This fact was discovered by Sibbald in the council register, with the phrase added, ^' pro commune bono villce, gratis.'''' But perhaps there is some mistake as to the date, the register of that period not being original, but apparently a somewhat confused transcript. The consequences of this fatal battle seemed at first to open up a path of high political influence to Gavin Douglas. His nephew, being as yet very young, fell in some measure under his tutelage, as the nearest surviving rel.ition. The queen, who had been appointed regent for her infant son James ^'., in less than a year I'rom her husband's death, was pleased to marr)- the young earl of Angus, who accordingly seemed likely to become the actual governor of the kingdom. The step, however, was unpopular, and at a convention of the ik- bles it was resolved, rather than obey so young a member of their own body, to call in the duke of Albany, cousin to the late king. Ihis personage did not realize the expectations which had been formed respecting him; and thus it happened, that for some years the chief power alternated between him and Angus. Sometimes the latter individual enjoyed an influence deputed to him in the queen's name by the duke, who occasionally found it necessary to retire to France. At other times, both the queen and her husband were obliged to take refuge in England, Avhere, on one of these occasions, was born their only child, 3Iargaret Douglas, destined in future years to be the mother of lord Darnley, the husband of queen I\lary. Ihe fortunes and domestic happiness of our poet appear to have been deeply affected by those of his nephew. Soon after the battle of Flodden, the queen conferred upon him the abbacy of Aberbrolhock, vacant by the death of Alex- ander Stewart, the late king's natural son. In a letter addressed by her grace to Pope Leo the tenth, she extols Douglas as second to none in learning and virtue, and earnestly requests that he may be confirmed in the possession of this abbacy, till his singular merits should be rewarded with some more ample en- dowment. Soon after she conferred on him the archbishfipric of St Andrews, A l\y-^ 100 GAVIN DOUGLAS, \vliich, if confirmed, would have placed liini at tlie head of the Scottish church. But the queen and her husband were not powerful or popular enough, to secure him in this splenilid siiU:;lioii. He was lii-sl intruded on by one John Hepburn, >\lio had been appointed by the chapter, and then both he and Hepburn were displaced by the pope, in favo.ir of Forman, the bishop of IMoray, a busy and aubitiois cliurc'.iiian, who had bjcn legate a latere to piipe Julius 11. Louglas vas at tlie same time deprived of tiie abbacy of Aberbioihock. It appears that, ;.ltlio i!^h ihj^e disputes were cirried on by strength of arms on all sides, the l>o:;t li.msclf was always aversa Irom hostile nitasLires, and would rather have abandoned his own interest th m bring reproach upon his profession. The ij'ieLMi, having hitherto failed to be of any ser.ice to liim, nominated him, in 1515, to be bishop of Dunkeld, and on this occasion, to make (piite sure, con- fiaiiation of the gift was, by the intiueni:e of her brother iienry the eighth, procured from the pr>pe. In thcsa days, however, a right which would suttice one day migiit not answer the next; and so it proved with Gavin Douglas. The duke ot' Albany, who arrived in -May, 1515, though he had protected tiie right of archbisliop Forman on the strength of a papal bull, nut only found it convenient to dispute that title in the <\ hatsoever. Gavin Douglas, when released, was actually obliged to lay a formal siege to his bishopric beibre he could obUiin possession. Having gone to Dun- keid, and published his bull in the usual form at the altar, he found it necessary to hold the ensuing entertainment in the dean's house, on account of his palace being garrisoned by the servants of Antbew Stewart. The steeple of the cathedral was also occupied as a fortress by these men, who pretended to be in arms in the name of the governor. Next day, in attempting to go to church, he was hindered by the steeple garrison, who fired briskly at his party : he had therefore to perform service in the dean's house. To increase his difficulties, Stewart had arrived in person, and put himself at the head of the garrison. His friends, however, soon collected a force in the neighbouring country, witii which they forced Stewart to bubnut. 'Ihe governor was afterwards prevailed upon to sanction the right of Gavin Douglas, who gratified totewart by two of the best benefices in the diocese. In 1517, when Albany went to France in order to renew the ancient league between Scotland and that country, lie took Douglas and Tauter as his secre- taries, his object being in the former case to have a hostage for the good be- liaviour of the earl of Angus diu-ing his absence."" However, when the negotia- tion was finished, the bishop of Dunkeld is said to have been sent to Scotland with the news. He certainly returned long before the governor himself. Al- ter a short slay at Edinburgh, he repaired to Ins diocese, wliere he employed himself for some time in the diligent discharge of his duties, lie was a warm promoter of public undertakings, and, in particular, finished a stone bridge over the lay, (opposite to his own palace,) whicii had been begun by his predeces- sor. He spent so much money in this numner, and in charity, that he became somewhat embarrassed with debt. During the absence of the duke of Albany, his nephew Angus maintained a constant struggle with the rival lamily of Hamil- ton, tlien bearing the title of earl of Arran, which formed a great part of the governor's strengtii in Scotland. In April, 1520, both parties met in i'^dinburgh, '" This is alluged b> Dr Henry. — History of deal JJrUaiit, SIR JAMES DOUGLAS. 101 fJeleniiined to try whicli \vas most powerful. Tlie bishop of Diinkclfl, seein"- tlmt bloodslied \\as tlireatened, used his iiitliierce with arcliljishop Beaton of (jlas- g>\v, Mho was a partisan of Arran ; wlien that prelate, striking his liand on his breast, asseverated, on his consriencc, tliat he knew nothing of the hostile in- tentions of his friends. He had in reality assumed armour inider his gown in order to take a personal concern in the fray, and his hand caused the breast- plate to make a rattling noise, " 3Iethinks," said Douglas, with admirable sar- casm, " yo.ir conscience clatters ;" a phrase that miglit be interpreted either into an allusion to thj noise itself, or to what it betrayed of the archbishop's intentions. Douglas retired to his own chamber to pray, and in the meantime his nepliew met and overthrew the forces of the earl of Arran. The bishop af- terwards saved Beaton from being slain by the victors, who seized him at the altar of the Blackfriars' church. Gavin Douglas probably entertained a feeling of gratitude to this dignitary, notwithstanding all his duplicity ; for Beaton had ordained him at Glasgow, and borne all the expenses of the ceremony out of his own revenues. The earl of Angus was now re-established in power, but it was only for a short time. Albany returned next year, and called him and all his retainers to an account for their management of affairs. The earl, with his nephew and others, was obliged to retire to England. The bishop of Dunkeld experienced the most courteous attention at the court of Hem-y VUL, who, with all his faults, was certainly a patron of literature. We ai-e informed by Holingslied that Douglas received a pension from the English monarch. In London, he con- tracted a friendship with Polydore Virgil, a learned Italian, who was then en- gaged in composing a history of England. It is supposed that the bishop as- sisted him with a little memoir on the origin of the Scottish nation. Here, however, our poet was suddenly cut off by the plague, in 1521, or 1522, and was buried in the Savoy church, where he had an epitaph, inscribed on the ad- jacent tomb of bishop Halsay. It is painful to think, that in consequence of the intestine divisions of his country, this illustrious and most virtuous person died a denounced traitor in a foreign land. The only other poem of any extent by Gavin Douglas, is one entitled " King Hart," which was probably written in the latter part of his life, and contains, whatDr Irving styles, " a most ingenious adumbration of the progress of human life." It was first printed in Pinkerton's collection of " Ancient Scottish Poems," 1786. DOU^GLAS, Sir James, one of the most remarkable men of the heroic age to which he belonged, and the founder of the great fame and grandeur of one or the most illustrious houses in Scotland, was the eldest son of William Douglas, a baron, or magnate of Scotland, who died in England about the year 1302. The ancestry of this family have been but imperfectly and obscurely traced by most genealogists ; but it now seems to be established beyond doubt, that the original founder came into this country from Flanders, about the year 1147; and, in reward of certain services, not explained, which he performed to the abbot of Kelso, received from that prelate a grant of lands on the water of Douglas, in Lanarkshire. In this assignation, a x-ecord of which is yet ex- tant, he is styled Theobaldus Flannuaticus, or Theobald the Fleming. William, the son and heir of Theobald, assumed the surname of Douglas, from his estate. Archibald de Douglas, his eldest son, succeeded in the family estate on Douglas water. Bricius, a younger son of William, became bishop of 31oray, in 1203 ; and his four brothers, Alexander, Henry, Hugh, and Freskin, settled in 3Ioray under his patronage, and from these, the Douglases in iMoray claim their de- scent. ArchibaUrdiod between the yeai-s 1238 and 1240, leaving behind him lUJ SIR JAiLES DOUGLAS. two soils. William, tlie elder, inherited the estate of his father; Andrew, the voimeer, became the ancestor of the Douglases of Dalkeith, .ifter wards created earls of 3Iorion. William acquired additional lands to the family inheritance: and, by this means, becomin? a tenant in cliief of the cro«Ti, was considered as rankinir anion? the barons, or, as they were then called, magnates of Scot- land. He died about the year 1276. leaving two sons, Hugh and William. Hucrh fouffht at the battle of the Largs, in 12(33, and died about 12'5S, without issue. \\ illiam, his only brother, and father to Sir James, the subject of the present article, suc<:e€ded to the family honours, which he did not long enjoy ; tor, liavinj espoused the popular side in the factions which sfjon after divided the kinudom, he ^vas, upon the successful usurpation of Edward I., deprived of liis estates, and died a prisoner in England, abotit the year 1302. Of this an- cestor, the tii-st whose history can be of any interest to the general reader, we liave made mention in the life of Wallace, and, therefore, have no occasion to recur to him in this place. The young Douglas had not attained to manhood, wlten the captivity of his father left him unprotected and destitute ; and in this condition, either prompt- ed by his own inclination, or influenced by tlie suggestions of friends anxious for his safely, he retired into France, and lived in Paris for three years. In this capital, remarkable, even in that age, for the gayety and show of its inhabi- tants, the young Scotsman for a time forgot his misfortunes, and gave way with youthful ardour to the cuiTcnt follies by which he was surrounded. 'ITie in- telligence of his father's death, however, was suthcient to break him off entirely from the loose courses upon which he was entering, and incite him to a mode of life more honourable, and more befitting the noble feelings by which, throughout life, he was so strongly actuated. Having returned without delay into Scotland, he seems first to have presented hinuelf to Laniberton, bishop of St Andrews, and was fortunate enough to be received with great kindness by that good prelate, who promoted him to the honourable post of page in his household. Barbour, the poet, dwells fondly upon this period in the life of Douglas, whom he describes as cheerful, courteous, dutiful, and of a generous disposition, insonmch, that he wns esteemed and beloved by all; yet was he not so fair, adds the same discreet wTiter, that we should much admire his beauty. He was of a somewhat grey or swarthy complexion, and had black hair, circumstances from which, especially among the English, he came to be known by the name of the Black Douglas. His bones were large, but well set ; his shoulders broad, and his whole person to be remarked as rather spare or lean, though muscular. He was mild and pleasant in con>pany, or among his friends, and lisped somewhat in his speech, a cii"cumstance which is said not at all to have misbecome him, besides that it Lrouglit him nearer to the beau ideal of Hector, as Barbour fails not to remark, in a not inappropriate comparison which he attempts makinnf of tiie two characters. Douglas was living in this manner, when Edward, h.aving for the last time, overrun Scotland, called together an assembly of the barons at Stirling. 'ITie bishop of St Andrews attended the summons of the English king on this oc- casion ; and taking alon? with him the young squire whom he had so gene- rously protected, resolved, if possible, to interest the monarch in his fortunes. Taking hold ot' a suitable opportunity, the prelate presented Douglas to the king, as a youth who claimed to be admitted to his service, and at the same time, made earnest entreaty that his majesty would look favourably upon hira, and restore him to the inheritance, which, from no fault of his, he isad lost. " ^^ hat lands does he claim ?" inquired Edward- The guod bishop had pur- posely kept the answer to this question to the end, well knowing the hastv and SIR JAMES DOUGLAS. 103 vindictive temper of the Englisli king, and the particular dislike mIucIi he hore to the luemory ot" the I'oruier Douglas ; but he soon saw tliat tiie haughty conqueror Avas neither to be prepossessed nor conciliated. Edward no sooner understood the birth of the suitor, than, turning angrily to the bishop, he reproached him in harsh terms, for liis presumption. " The father," said he, '' was always my enemy ; and 1 have already besto\ved his lands upon more loyal followers than his sons <-an ever pi'ove." The unfavourable issue of this suit nuist have left a deep and resentful impression on the mind of the young- Douglas ; and it Avas not lonj^ before an occasion offered whereby he might fully discover the incu- rable inveteracy of his hostility to the English king. While he yet resided at the bishop's palace, intelligence of the murder of Comyn, and the revolt of Bruce, spread over the kingdom. Lamberton, who, it is well known, secretly favoured the insurrection, not only made no difficulty of allowing- the young Douglas to join the party, but even assisted him with money to lacilitate his purpose. The bishop, it is also said, directed him to seize upon his own horse for his use, as if by violence, from the groom ; and, accordingly, that servant in an unwitting- attention to his duty, having been knocked down, Douglas, unattended, rode ofl" to join the standard of his future king and master. He fell in with the party of Bruce at a place called Errick- stune, on their progress from Lochmaben towards Glasgow ; where, making himself kno\vn to Robert, he made offer to him of his services ; hoping- that under the auspices of his rightful sovereign, he might recover possession of his own inheritance. Bruce, Avell pleased with the spirit and bearing of his new adherent, and, besides, interested in his welfare, as the son of the gallant Sir William Douglas, received him with much favour, giving him, at the same time, a command in his small army. This was the commencement of the friendship between Bruce and Douglas, than which, none more sincere and perfect ever existed between sovereign and subject. It would, of course, be here unnecessary to follow Sir James Douglas, as we shall afterwards name him, through the same tract described in the life of his heroic master ; as in that, all which it imports the reader to know has been already detailed with sufficient minuteness. Of the battle of 3]ethven, there- fore, in which the young knight first signalized his valour; that of Dairy, in which Robert was defeated by the lord of Lorn, and Sir James \vounded ; tlie retreat into Rachrin ; the descent upon Arran, and afterwards on the coast of Carrick ; in all of which enterprises, the zeal, courage, and usefulness of Douglas were manifested, we shall in this place take no other notice, than by referring to the life which we have mentioned. Leaving these more general and impor- tant movements, we shall follow the course of our narrative in others more ex- clusively referable to the life and fortunes of Douglas. While Robert the Bruce was engaged in rousing- the men of Carrick to take up arms in his cause, Douglas was permitted to repair to his patrimonial do- mains in Douglasdale, for the purpose of drawing over the ancient and attached vassals of his family to the same interest, and, in the first place, of avenging, should an occasion offer, some of the particular wrongs himself and family had sustained from the English. Disguised, therefore, and accompanied by only two yeomen. Sir James, towards the close of an evening in the month of .March, 1307, reached the alienated inheritance of his house, then owned by the lord Cliflbrd, who had posted within the castle of Douglas a strong garrison of Eng- lish soldiers. Having revealed himself to one Thom;is Dickson, formerly his father's vassal, and a person possessed of some wealth, and considerable in- fluence among the tenantry. Sir James, and his two followers were joyfully wel- comed, and carefully concealed within his house. By the diligence an«l sagacity 10 i SIR JAMES DOUGLAS. of tliis faithful dependent, Donglns was soon made acquainted uith tlie numbers of those, in the neighbourhood, who woiihl be willing to join him in his enter- prise, and the more important of these being brought secretly, and by one or two at a time, before him, he received their pledges of fidelity and solemn en- gagements to assist him to the utmost of their po^ver towards the recovery of his inheritance. Having, in this manner, se<;ured the assistance of a small, but resolute band, Sir James determined to put in execution a project \\hich he had planned for the surprisal of the ciistle. The garrison, entirely ignorant and unsuspii'ious of the niaciiinations of their enemies, and otherwise far from vigilant, ort'ered many opportunities which might be taken advantage of to their destruction. The day of Palm Sunday, however, was fixed upon by Douglas, as being then near at hand, and as furnishing, besides, a plausible pretext for the gathering together of his adherents. The garrison, it was expected, would on that festival, attend divine service in the neighbouring church of St Bride. The followers of Douglas having anus concealed upon their persons, were, some of them, to enter the building along with the soldiers, while the others remained without to prevent their escape. Douglas, himself, disguised in an old tattered mantle, having a tlail in his hand, Avas to give the signal of onset, by shouting the war cry of his family. When the concerted day arrived, the whole garri- son, consisting of thirty men, went in solemn procession to attend the service of the church, leaving only the porter and the cook within the castle. The eager followers of the knight did not wait for the signal of attack ; for, no sooner had the unt'ortunate Englishmen entered the chapel, than, one or two raising the cry of " a Douglas, a Douglas,'''' which was instantly echoed and returned from all quarters, they fell with the utmost fury upon the entrapped garrison. These defended themselves bravely, till t>vo thirds of tlieir number lay either dead or mortally wounded. Being refused quarter, those \\ho yet continued to fight were speedily overpowered and made prisoners, so that none escaped. IMeanwhile, five or six men were detached tc secure possession of tho castle gate, which they easily effected : and being soon after fallowed by Douglas and his partisans, the victors had now only to deliberate as to the use to which their conquest should be applied. Considering the great power and numbers of the English in that district, and the impossibility of retaining the castle should it be besieged ; besides, that the acquisition (;ould then prove of no ser- vice to the general cause, it was determined, that that which could be of little or no service to themselves, should be rendered equally useless and unprofitable to the enemy. This measure, so defensible in itself, and politic, was stained by an act of singular and atrocious barbarity ; which, however consistent \vith the rude and revengeful spirit of the age in which it was enacted, remains the sole stigma which even his worst enemies could ever affix to the memory of Sir Jaiues Douglas. Having plundered and stripped the castle of every ar- ticle of value which could be conveniently carried off and secured ; the gi-eat mass of the provisions, with which it then happened to be amply j)rovided, were heaped together within an apartment of the building. Over this pile were stored the puncheons of wine, ale, and other liquors which the cellar af- forded ; and lastly the prisoners v\ho had been taken in the church, having been despat(;hcd, their dead bodies were thrown over all ; thus, in a spirit of savage jocularity, converting the whole into a loathsome mass of provision, then, and long after, popularly described by the name of the Douglas'' Larder. These savage preparations gone through, the castle was set on fire, and burned to the gi-ound. No sooner was ClifFord advertised of the miserable fate which had befallen his garrison, than, collecting a sufficient force, he repaired to Douglas in per- SIR JAMES DOUGLAS. 105 Fon ; and having caused the castle to he le-edified more strongly than it li.id been formerly, he left a new ganison in it under the command of one 'I'liirl- Avall, and returned himself into luigland. Douglas, uliile these operations proceeded, having dispersed his followers, bestowing in secure places, Avhere they might be properly attended to, such among them as had been wounded, himself lurked in the neighbourhood, intending, on the fn-st safe opportunity, to rejoin the king's standard, in company witli his trusty adlierents. Other considerations, however, seem to have arisen, and to have had their share in influencing his conduct in this particular ; for the lord Clifibrd had no sooner departed, than he resolved, a second time, to attempt the surprisal of his cTstle, under its new governor. The garrison, having a fresh remembrance of the fa- LtI disaster which had befallen their predccessoi-s, were not to be talven at the same advaiiliige ; and some expedient had therefore to be adoi)ted which might abate the extreme caution and vigilance, which they observed, and on which their safety depended. This Douglas effected, by directing some of his men, at diflerent thues, to drive off portions of the cattle belonging to the castle, but who, as soon as the g?.rrison issued out to the rescue, were instructed to leave their l)ooty and betake themselves to flight. The governor and his men having been sufficiently irritated by the atteuipts of these pretended plunderers, who thus kept them continually and vexatiously on the alert, Sir James, aware of their disposition, resolved, MJthout further delay, upon the execution of his project. Having formed an ambush of his followers at a place called Sandilands, at no gi'eat distance from the castle, he, at an early hour in the morning, detached a few of his men, who vei"y daringly drove off some cattle from the immediate vicinity of the Avails, towards the place where the ambuscaders lay concealed. Thirlwall was no sooner apprized of the fact, than, indignant at the boldness of the affront put upon him, which yet he considered to be of the same character with those formerly practised, hastily oi'dered a large portion of the garrison to arm themselves and follow after the spoilers, himself accompanying them with so great precipitation, that he did not take time even to put on his helmet. The pursuers, no Avays suspecting the snare laid for them, followed, in great haste and disorder, after the supposed robbers, but liad scarcely passed the place of the ambush, than Douglas and his foUoAvers starling suddenly from their co- vert, the party at once found themselves circumvented and their retreat cut off. In their confusion and suiprise, they were but ill prepared for the fierce assault which was instantly made upon them. The greater part fled precipitantly, and a few succeeded in regaining their strong-hold ; but Thirlwall and many of his bravest soldiers were slain. The fugitives were pursued with great slaughter to the very gates of the castle ; but, though few in numbers, having secured the entrance, and manned the Avails, Sir James found it Avould be impossible to gain possession of the place at this time. Collecting together, therefore, all those >villin"- to join the royal cause, he forthAvith repaired to the army of Bruce, then encamped at Cumnock, in Ap-shire. The skill and boldness Avhich Dou- glas displayed in these Iavo exploits, and the success Avhich attended them, added to the reputation for military enterprise and braAcry, Avhich he had previously acquired, seem to have infected the English Avith an almost supei-stitious dread of his poAver and resources ; so that, if Ave may believe the Avriters of that age, few could be found adventurous enough to undertake the keeping of ''the peril- ous castle of Douglas," for by that name it noAv came to be j>opularly distin- guished. When king Robert, shortly after his victory over the English at Loudonhill, marched his forces into the north of Scotland, Sir James Douglas remained he- hind, for the purpose of reducing the forests of Selkirk and Jedburgh to obe- iUG Sill JAMES JDOUGLAIS. dience. His fii-st adventure, however, was tlie tJik'ni!^, a second time, liis own castle of Douglas, then couimanded by Sir John de Wilton, an English kniglit, who held tliis ciiarge, as his two predecessoi-s had done, under the lord Clitlbni Sir James, taking along with him a body of ariaed men, gained the neighbour- liood undiscovered, where himself and the greater number innnediately planted themselves in ambuscade, as near as possible to the gate of the castle. Fourteen of his best men he directed to disguise themselves as peasants wearing smock- frocks, under wliicli their arms might be conveniently concealed, and having sacks filled with grass laid across their horses, who, in this guise, were to pass within view of the castle, as if they had been countrymen carrying corn for sale to Lanark fair. The stratagem had the desired etiect ; for the garrison being theii scarce of provisions, had no mind to let pass so favourable an opportunity, as it appeared to them, of supplying themselves ; wherefore, the greater part, Avith the governor, who was a man of a bold and reckless disposition, at their head, issued out in great haste to overtake and plunder the supposed peasants. These, linding themselves pui-sued, hurried onward with what speed they could muster, till, ascertaining that the unwary Englishmen had passed the ambush, they suddenly threw down their sacks, stripped oti' the frocks wliich concealed their armour, mounted their horses, and raising a loud shout, seemed determined in turn to become the assailants. Douglas and his concealed followers, no sooner heard the shout of their companions, which was the concerted signal of onset, than, starting into view in the rear of the English party, these found themselves at once, miexpectedly and fia-iously attacked from two opposite quar- ter. In this desperate encounter, their retreat to the castle being edectually cut oft", Wilton and his whole party are reported to have been slain. When this successful exploit was ended. Sir James found means to gain possession of the castle, probably by the promise of a safe conduct to those by whom it was still maintained ; as he allowed the constable and remaining garrison to depart unmolested into England, furnishing them, at the same time, with money to de- fray the chai-ges of their journey. Barbour relates, that upon the person of the slain knight there was found a letter from his mistress, informing him, that he might well consider iiimself worthy of her love, should he bravely defend for a year the adventurous castle of Doughis. Sir James razed the fortress of his ancestors to the ground, that it might, on no future occasion, aftbrd protec- tion to the enemies of his country, and the usurpers of liis own pati-imony. Leaving the scene where he had thus, for the third time, in so remarkable a manner triumphed over his adversaries, Douglas proceeded to the forests of Sel- kirk and Jedburgh, both of \vhich he in a short time reduced to the king's authority. While employed upon this service, he chanced one day, towartls night/-fall, to come in sight of a solitary house on the water of Line, which he had no sooner perceived, than he directed his course towards it, with the inten- tion of there resting himself and his followers till morning. Approaching the place with some caution, Douglas could distinguish from the voices which ho heard within, that it was pre-occupied ; and from the oaths wliich mingled in the (;onversation, he had no doubt as to the character of the guests which it con- tained, military men being then, almost exclusively, addicted to the use of sucii terms in their speech.' Having beset the house with his followers, and forced I We Imvc the authority of IJarbour Ibi' the above curious iuit. His woids are tliese : " And as lie come with his meiigye [ibicesj Ner Imiitl the houss, sa l}Sii} t lie, Ami liard ane say liiarin, ' the dewiU /' And be tliat he pei'sxuvil ["perceived] Weill Tluit lliai war Strang men, tliiit tliar, TJiat n)chl tliarin lieiber) it war." Baibuur^s L'rua.', h. ix. 1. 681. SIR JAMES DOUGLAS. 107 nn entrance, the conjoctiivo of the knif>lit proved uell founded ; for, after a brief but sliarp contest \vith the inmates, he uas fortunate enough to secure the pei-sons of Alexander Stuart, Lord I?onled into the keep or great tower, which they defended till the followiuff day : hut having sustained a severe aiTOw wound in the face. Gillemin de Fiennes thouffht proper to surrender, on condition that he and his remaining followers should hie allowed safely to depart into Enofland. ITiese teniis havioff been accorded, and faithfully fulfilled, Fiennes died shortly afterwards of tlie wound which he liad received. This event, which fell out in the month of !\Iarth, 1313, added not a little to the terror with which the Douglas name was resrarded in the north of England ; while in an equal degree, it infused spirit and confidence into the hearts of their enemies. Barbour attributes the successful capture of Edinburgh castle by Randolph, an exploit of greater peril, and on that account only, of superior gallantry to the preceding, to the noble emulation with which the one general regarded the deeds of the other. The next occasion, wherein Douglas signalized himself by his conduct and braver}, was on the field of Bannockburn : in which memorable battle, he had the signal honour ttf commanding the centre division of the Scottish van. When the fortune of that great day w:as decided, by the disastrous and complete over- throw of the English army. Sir James, at the head of sixty horsemen, pursued closely on the tracJc of the flying monarch, for upwards of forty miles from the field, and only desisted froiu the chase from the inability of his horses to proceed further. In the same year, king Robert, desirous of taking advantage of the wide spread dismay into which the English nation had been thrown, despatched his brother Edward and Sir James Dt»uglas, by the eastern marches, into Eng- land, where they ravaged and assessed at will the whole northern counties of that kingdom. When Bruce passed over with an army into Ireland, in the month of 3Iay, 13 IG, in order to the reinforcement of his brother Edward's arms in that coun- tr)-. he committed to Sir James Douglas, the charge of the middle borders, during his absence. The earl of Arundel appears, at the same time, to have commanded on the eastern and middle marches of Enghind, lying opposite to the district under the charge of Douglas. The earl, encouraged by the absence of the Scots king, and still more, by information which led him to believe that Sir James Douglas was then unprepared and off his guard, resolved, by an un- expected and vigorous attack, to take this wily and desperate enemy at an ad- vantage. For tliis pm-pose, he collected together, with secrecy and despatch, an array of no less tlian ten thousand men. Douglas, who had just then seen completed the erection of his castle or manor house of Lintalee, near Jedburgh, in w hich he proposed giving a great feast to his military followers and vassals, was not, indeed, prepared to encounter a force of this magnitude ; but, I'rom the intelligence of spies whom he maintained in the enemy's camp, he was not alto- gether to be taken by surprise. Aware of the route by which the English army would advance, he collected, in all haste, a considerable body of archers, and about fifty men at arms, and with these took post in an extensive thicket of Jedburgh forest. The passage or opening through the wofni at this place — wide and convenient at the southern extremity, by which the English were to enter, narrowed as it approached the ambush, till in breadth it did not exceed a quoifs pitch, or about twenty yards. ITacing the archers in a hollow piece of ground, on one side of the pass, Douglas etTectually secured them from the attack of the enemies" cavalrj, by an entrenchment of feUed trees, and by knit- ting togellier the branches of the young birch trees with which the thicket abounded. He himself took post with his small body of men-at-arms, on the SIR JAUm hfJtSGlAS. l^>:i other side of tbe fats, and there potiendy awaited the appraBrcl) oif the Ei^lk&. Ibeie pcepoiatioBs for their reeejiitiMi harin^ been nnntr with gicat w i c reiry and ordfa-, the anuj «^ Araatlel had jm» sn^iinwi of thesnate laid £gr fhew; aad, haiiog entered the nanrow port of the defile, seeai even to have aeii^ected the ordinary rales fisr fteaaring the pxsper amy of thcar oaks, these beosoMg gradually compfeswd and confined as the bo^ advaueed. In dus nnnner, nn- able to form, and, from the presnre in their rear, eyolly incafocitafted to m- treat, the van oi the aniy offi»ed an omesiitiii^ and £dal antk v» the enaeealed ardben ; who, opening upon theat with a mdley of anows, in front and laak, fiist made theia anave of die danger of their puntion, and lendetcd inemedi- aMe die eonfinion already otttertable in their lania. Dmngin, at Ae sjune mo- ment, bmsting 6«m hk ambosh, and waitg die terrible nar cry of has name, furioudy aaniled the snrprned and d i s a w kre d Eagiish, a great many «t nlMna, from the im(«adti«abi]ity of thdr atnation, and dM: iaqmaibility of esftafC!, mere slain. Sir James hintself ^leaiinitered, in dkb warm onset, a biave fiwesgn knight, named Thomas de Bidiemont, niMaH he dew by a thvart^ undb his dag- ger ; taking from bim, by way ei trophy, a iGnned cap whsdi it was bis cmstom to wear o««r bis helm^ The Ela^idi having at l^igdh made good iftor re- treat into the open country, encased in safety fer die n^ ; Doo^a^ w
vhensoever he thought proper. On the following day, the English, marching in order of battle, came in sight of the Scottish army, whom they found di-awu up on foot, in three divisions, on tlie slope of a hill ; having; the river Wear, a rapid and nearly impassable stream, in front, and their li:'.nks protected by rocks and precipices, piesenting insurmountable dithculties to the approach of an enemy. Edward attempted to draw them from their fastness, by challenging the Scottish leaders to an honour- able engagement on the plain, a pi-actice not unusual in that aire ; but he soon found, that the experienced generals with whom he had to deal were not to be seduced by any artifii:e or bravado. ' On our road hither," said they, " we liave burnt and spoiled the country ; and /lere we shall abide while to us it seems good. If the king of England is otiended, let him come over and chas- tise us." The two armies reiujiined in this manner, fronting each other, for three days ; tlie army of Ed»vard much incommoded by the nature of their situ- ation, anil the continual alarms of their hostile neighboui*s, who, throughout the night, says Froissart, kept sounding their horns, '• as if all the great devils in hell had been there." Unable to force tlie Scots to a battle, the English com- SIR JAMES DOUGLAS. 113 in.iiiders had no alternative left tliein, than, by blockading their present situa- tion, to compel the enemy, by famine, to quit thcii- impregnable position, and (iglit at a disadvantage. The fourth morning, however, proved the futility of such a scheme : for the Scots having discovered a place of still greater stren"-th at about two miles distance, had secretly decamped tliither in the night. They were soon followed by the Engiisi!, who took post on an opposite hill, the river Wear still interposing itself between the two armies. The army of Edward, baffled and disheartened as they had been by the wari- ness and dexterity of their enemy, would seem, in their new position, to have relaxed somewhat in their accustomed vigilance ; a circumstance which did not escape the experienced eye of Sir James Douglas; and which immediately sug- gested to the enterprising spirit of that conmiander, the possibility of executing a scheme, which, to any other mind, must have appeared wild and chimerical, as it was hazardous. Taking with him a body of two hinidred chosen horse- men, he, at midnight, forded the river at a considerable distance from both armies ; and by an unfrequented path, of which he had received accurate in- formation, gained the rear of the English camp undiscovered. On approaching the outposts, Douglas artfully assumed the manner of an English oflicer going his rounds, calling out, as he advanced, " Ha! St George, you keep no ward here ," and, by this stratagem, penetrated, without suspicion, to the very centre of the encampment, where the king lay. When they had got thus far, the party, no longer concealing who they were, shouted aloud, " A Douglas! a Douglas! English thieves, you shall all die !" and furiously attacking the unarmed and panic-struck host, overthrew all who came in their way. Douglas, forcing an entrance to the royal pavilion, would have carried off the young king, but for the brave and devoted stand made by his domestics, by which he was enabled with difficulty, to escape, fllany of the household, and, among others, the king's own chaplain, zealously sacrificed their lives to their loyally on this oc- casion. Disappointed of his prize, Sir James now sounded a retreat, and charging with his men directly through the camp of the English, safely regained his own ; having sustained the loss of only a very few of his followers, while tliat of the enemy is said to have exceeded three hundred men. On the day follo\ving this night attack, a prisoner having been brought into the English camp, and strictly interrogated, acknowledged, that general ordei-s had been issued to the Scots to hold themselves in readiness to march that evening, under the banner of Douglas. Intex-preting this information by the fears which their recent surprisal had inspii-ed, the English C()n(;luded that the eneiuy had formed the plan of a second attack ; and in this persuasion, drew up their whole army in order of battle, and so continued all night resting upon their arms. Early in tlie morning, two Scottish trumpeters having been seized by the palroles, reported tiiat the Scottish army had djcamped before midnight, and were already advanced many miles on tlieir march lioniewartL The Eng- lish could not, for some time, give credit to this strange and unwelcome intelli- gence ; but, suspecting some stratagem, continued in order of battle, till, by their scouts, they were fully certified of its truth. The Scottish leaders, finding that their provisions were nearly exhausted, had prudently i-esolved upon a retreat; and, in the evening, having lighted numerous fires, as was usual, drew off from their encampment shortly after nighlfalL To effect their purpose, the anny had to pass over a morass, which lay in their rear, of nearly two miles in ex- tent, till then supposed impracticable by cavalry. This passage the Scots ac- complished by means of -a number of hurdles, made of wands or boughs of trees Avcttled together, employing tliese as bridges over the water runs and softer places of the bog ; and so deliberately had tlieir measures been adopted and exe- 114 Sill JAMES DOUGLAS. «;(ited, tliat when tiie whole hotly had passed, these were carefully removed, that they iiiinht ali'ord iio assistance to tlie enemy, shoukl they pursue them hy tlie same track. lulward is said to have wept bitterly when inlormed of the estuipe of the Sc.otlish army ; and his "enerals, well aware how unavailing any pursuit after ihem muil prove, next day broke up the encampment, and retired towards Durham. This was tlie last signal service which Douglas rendered to his country ; and an honouraljle pea«;e having been soon aiterwartls concluded between the two kinodoms, seemed at last to promise a quiet and pacific termination to a lile which had iiilhcrto known no art but that of war, and no enjoyment but that of victory. However, a ditferent, and to him, possibly, a more enviable fate, awaited the heroic Douglas. Bruce dying, not long after he had witnessed the freedom of liis (;ountry established^ nuade it his last request, that Sir James, as his oldest and most esteemed companion in arms, should carry his heart to the holy land, and deposit it in the holy sepulchre at Jerusalem, to the end his sou] might be uubm-dened of the weight of a vow which he felt himself unable to fulfil. Douglas, attended by a numerous and splendid retinue of knights and es- quires, set sail from Scotland, in execution of this last charge committed to his care by his deceased master. He first touched in his voyage at Slays in Flan- ders, where, having learned that Alphonso, king of Castile and Leon, was then at waged Avar with Osniyn, the Moorish king of Granada, he seems to have been tempted, by the desire of fighting against the infidels, to direct his course into Spain, with intention, from thence, to combat the Saracens in his progress to Jerusalem. Having landed in king Alphonso's country, that sovereign re- ceived Douglas with great distinction ; and not the less so, that he expected shortly to engage in battle with his Moorish enennes. I5arbour relates, that while at this court, a knight of great renown, whose face was all over disfigured by the scars of wounds which he had received in battle, expressed his surprise that a knight of so great fame as Douglas should have received no similar marks in his many combats. " 1 thank heaven," answered Sir James, mildly, " that I had always hands to protect my face." And those who ivere by, adds the au- thor, praised the answer much, lor there was much understanding in it. Douglas, and the brave company by Avhom he was attended, having joined themsehes to Alphonso's army, »;ame in vie\v of the Saracens near to Tebas, a castle on tlie frontiers of Andalusia, towards the kingdom of Grenada. Osmyn, the Moorish king, had ordered a body of three thousand cavalry to make a feigned attack on the Spaniards, while, with the gi-eat body of his army, lie designed, by a circuitous route, unexpectedly, to fall upon the rear of king Al- phonso's cjniip. That king, however, having received intelligence of the stratagem, prepared for him, kept the main force of his army in the rear, while he opposed a sufiicicnt body of troops, to resist the attack Avhich should be made on the front division of liis army. I'roni this fortunate disposition of his forces, the <-,liristian king gained the day over his infidel adversaries. Os- myn was discomfited with much slaughter, and Alphonso, improving his advan- tage, gained full possession of the enemy's camp. While the battle was thus brought to a successful issue in one quarter of the field, Douglas, and his brave anions, who fought in the van, prov- ed themselves no less fortunate, 'i he Moors, not long able to withstand the furious encounter of their assailants, betook themselves to tlight. Douglas, iin- acy a body of Moors, who had suddenly rallied, "Alas!" said he, "yonder worthy knii;ht shall perish, but for present help ;"' and with liie few who now attended him amounting to no more than ten men, he turned hastily, to attempt his rescue. He soon found himself hard pressed by the nundjers who thronged upon him. Taking from iiis neek the silver casquet whicii contained the heart of Jiruce, he threw it before him among the thickest of the enemy, saying, " Now pass thou onward before us, as thou wert wont, and I will follow thee or die." Douglas, and almost the whole of the bi'ave men uho fought by his side, \vere here slain. His body and the cnsquet containing the embalmed heart of l?ruce were found together upon the field ; and were, by his surviving companions, conveyed with great care and reverence into Scotland. The remains of Douglas were deposit- ed in the family vault at St Bride's chapel, and the heart of Bruce solemnly inteiTed by 3Ioray, the I'cgent, under the high altar in 3Ielrose Abbey. So perished, almost in the prime of his life, the gallant, and, as his grateful countrymen long affectionately termed him, " the good Sir James Domrlas," having survived little more than one year, the demise of his royal master. His death was soon after followed by that of Handolph ; with whom niigi\t be said to close the race of illustrious men who had rendered the epoch of Scotland's renovation and independence so remark.able. DOUGLAS, James, fourth earl of 3Iorton, and regent of S<;otland, was the second son of Sir George Douglas of Pittendreich, (younger bi'other of Archi- bald, sixth earl of Angus, and a grandson of the fifth, or great earl, styled Bell- tlie-cat.) The matrimonial conjiexion of the sixth carl of Angus with Mar- garet of England, the widow of James IV., brought the whole of this great family into an intimate alliance with Menry YIII., that princess' brother. During the reign of James V. as an adult sovereign, most of them lived in banishment in England ; and it was only after his death in 1542, that they re- appeared in the country. Whether the earl of 3Iorton spent his early years at the English court is not known ; but it is related by at least (me historical writer, that he travelled during his youth in Italy. Immediately after the re turn of the family from banishment, he is found mingling deeply in those in- trigues which Angus and others carried on, for the purpose of promoting the proni'ess of the reformed i-eligion, along with the match between Henry's son and the infant queen 31ary. He seems to have followed in the wake of his father Sir George, who was a prime agent of king Henry ; and who, in April, I5i.3, engaged, with others, to deliver up the lowland part of Scotland to the Enolish monarcii. Previous to this period, the future regent had been married to Elizabeth Douglas, third daughter of James, third earl of 31orton, who was induced to bequeath his title and all his estates to this foi-tunate son-in-law, conjointly with his wife.^ In virtue of this grant, the subject of our memoir was invested with the title of IMaster of 3Iorton. It is somewhat remarkable, that on the very thy when the English ambassador informed his prince of the trait- orous engagement of Sir George Douglas of Pittendreich, his son, the blaster of Morton, had a royal charter confirming the above splendid grant. This must have been obtained from the fears of the governor, Arran, against whom all the Douglases were Avorking. In November following, the blaster is found holding out the donjon or principal tower of his father-in-law's castle of Dalkeith, against Arran ; but, being destitute of victuals and artillery, he was obliged to give it up, on the condition of retiring with all his eflects untouched. Nothing more is learned of this remarkable personage till 1553, when he succeeded his 1 The mother of llie Tugeiit's wife, was KaLlieniie Stewart, a natural dausfiter of king James I V. no JAMES DOUGLAS. father-in-law, as earl of ^lortoii. Although one of the original loids of the congregation in 1557, he did not for some time take an active or decided j>art against the (jucen regent. He had received large favours from this lady, and, possessing all that gratitude which consists in a lively anticipation of favours to como, he feared, by casting off her cause, which he supposed would be the trium- phant one, to compromise his prospect of those future advantages. This caused Sir Ivalph Sadler, the English envoy, to describe him as " a simple and fearful man ;" words which are certainly, in their modern sense at least, inapplicable to him. 3Iorton was, however, a commissioner for the settlement of affairs at Upsettlington, 3Iay 31st, 1559. After the return of queen 31arj', in 15G1, he was sworn a privy councillor, and on the 7th of Januai-j-, I5tj3, was appointed lord high cJiancellor of Scotland. By the advice of his father the earl of Len- nox, Darn ley consulted 3Iorton and the earl of Crawford in preference to any other of the nobility, respecting the taking away the life of Rizzio, when his jealousy had been inlLamed by the pi-esuniption of that unfortunate adventurer ; and 3Iorton became a principal actor in the tragical catastrophe that ensued. It was the opinion of these noblemen that Kizzio should be impeached before the parliament, and brought publicly to justice as an incendiary who had sown dis- trust and jealousy among the nobility, and had also endeavoured to subvert the ancient laws and constitution of the kingdom. This there certainly would have been little dilliculty in accomplishing, but it did not suit the impatient temper of Uarnley, whose revenge could not be satiated without in some degree implicating the queen ; and he had determined that her favourite should suffer in her ahnost immediate presence. He accordingly carried a number of the conspiratoi-s from his own chamber, which was below the queen's, by a naiTOw staircase, of which he alone had the privilege, into hers, «hen she had just sat down to supper, in company with the countess of Argy le and her unfortunate secretary-, tlie object of their hatred, whom they instantly dragged from his seat, and, ere they were well out of the queen's presence, whose table they had over- turned, and whose clothes the unhappy man had almost torn while he clunir to her and implored her protection, despatched him with innumerable wounds. In the meantime, 3Iorton, chancellor of the kingdom, and the protector of its laws, kept watch in the outer gallery, and his vassals paraded in the open court, pre- venting all egress from or ingress to the palace. The effect of this barbarous murder was an entire change of policy on the part of the court. The protes- tant lords, the principal of whom had been in exile, returned to Edinburgh that same night, and all papists were, by a proclamation issued by the king, com- manded to leave the city next day. The queen, though she \\as enraged in the highest degree, concealed her feeling-s till she had completely overcome the foolish Darnley, whom she persuaded in the course of a few days to fly with her to Dunbar, to abandon the noblemen to whom he had bound himself by the most solemn written obligations, and to issue a procL'imation denying- all pai'ticipation in the murder of Kizzio, and requiring the lieges to assemble instantly, for the protection of the queen and the prosecution of the murderei-s. In consequence of tliis, the queen, with her now doubly degraded husband, returned in a few days to the capital, at the head of a fonnidable anny ; and thouijli the exiled noblemen who had newly returned, maintained their ground, 3Iorton and his associates were under the necessity of making their escape out of the kino-dom. Through the interest of the earl of Bothweli, he was pardoned shortly after ; and it was attempted, at the same time, to engage him in the plot that was al- ready formed for nuirdering Darnley. In this, however, he positively refused to concur ; but, practically acquainted with tiie ciiildish weakness of tii'at unfortu- nate young man, he dared not to inform him of the design, nor did lie take any JAMES DOrCLAS. 117 measures to prevent its befng executed, Mhich occasioned Iiitn eventiiallv the loss of his own lite. After the death of the kinir, and Clary's subsequent mar- riage to Bothwell, 3Iorton \vas one of the most efficient leadei-s in the confede- racy that was formed for lier derton, and the party of the king, to meet them either at Falkirk or I.inlitligow. Tiiis not being agreed to, the queen's faction removed tliemselves to Linliiligow, and afterwards, thinking to pei-suade the citizens to join them, into Edinburgii. Foiled in this, though Kirkaidy, the governor of tlie castle, had declared for them, as also in their aim to assemble the parliament before the appointed time, they, before that time approached, witlulrew to Linlithgow, whence they issued an edict, com- m.-indin!r all the lieges to obey only the conunissionei-s of the queen, and sum- moning a parliament to meet in that place on the 3d of August. Previously to their leavinj Edinburgh, the faction despatched two special messengers into Enofland, one to meet with the earl of Sussex, who was on his march with an anny to punish the Scotts an-iev.- to the clearing of 3Iar\'8 chai-acter and restoring her to the exercise of sovereign authority. Both parties were in the meantime to abstain from hostilities of everj" kind, and whatever innovations they had attempted by their public proclamations, they were to annul by the same means. Nothing could iiave been contrived more discouraging to the king's friends JAMES DOUGLAS. 119 or more detrimental to the interests of Scotland, tliun such a determination as tliis ; but they had no choice left. 'I'liey beiioved either to he assisted by the queen of England, or run tlie hazard of a dangerous civil war with their own party, considerably diminished by the dilatory manner in which tiiey had .al- ready acted, and the chance of the opposite party being ;issisted by a strong auxiliary lorce iVom France, whicli had been ot'ten promised, and as often boasted of, generally among the more uninformed classes, who had little know- hidge of tbe internal strength of France, or of the politi<:al balance that might externally sway her councils, and prevent her government from acting accord- ing to either their promises or their wishes. Hut they were not altogether blind to the difficilties in which, by the subtilty of her policy, Elizabeth was in- volved ; and they chose a middle course, trusting to the chapter of accidents fur an issue more successful than they could fully or clearly foresee. Sensible how much they had lost by the delay in appointing some person to the re- gency, they proceeded to create Blatthew, earl of Lennox, regent till the middle of July, by whicli time they calculated upon ascertaining the pleasure of Eliza- beth, of wliose friendship they did not yet despair. The earl of Lennox was not by any means a man of commanding talent, but he was a man of kindly affections, and a lover of his country ; and with the assistance of his council, set himself in good earnest to correct the disorders into which it had fallen, when about the beginning of July, letters arrived from Elizabeth, filled with expressions of high regard both for the king and kingdom of Scotland, and promising them both her best assistance ; and though she wished them to avoid the nomination of a regent, as in itself invidious, yet if her opinion were asked, she knew no person \\ho ought to be preferred to the king's grandfather to that office, because none could be thought upon who would be more faithful to his pupil while a minor, nor had any one a prefer- able right. On the reception of this grateful communication, Lennox \sns im- mediately declared regent, and having taken the usual oath for preserving the religion, the laws, and liberties of his country, he issued a proclamation, com- manding all who were capable of bearing arms to appear at Linlithgow on the 2d of August His pui-pose by this was to jirevent the assembling of the party meeting, which, under the name of a parliament, was called in name of the tjueen, for the 2nd day of September, he himself having sunmioned in name of the king a parliament to meet on the 1 0th of October. He was accortlingly attended on the day appointed by five thousand at Linlitligow, where the party of the queen did not think it advisable to appear. Hearing, however, that Huntly had issued orders for a large army to be assembled at Ei-echin, the garrison of which had begun to infest the highways, and to rob all travellers, he sent against that 2)lace the lords Lindsay and Kuthven, with what forces they could collect at Perth and Dundee. The subject of this memoir followed them with eight hundred horse, and was at Brechin only a day behind them. The regent himself having despatched the men of Lennox and HenfiXMV to protect their own country, in case Argyle should attack them, followed in three days, and was waited upon by the nobility and gentry, with their followers, to the number of seven thousand men. Huntly had now fled to the north. The gar- rison of Brechin made a show of defending themselves, but were soon brought to submit at discretion. Tliirty of them, who had been old ofiendei-s, were hang- ed on the spot, and the remainder dismissed. The regent returned to Edinburgh in time to attend the meeting of parlia- ment, which harmoniously confinned his authority, which the queen's party observing, had again recoui"se to the French and the Spaniards, with more earnestness than ever, intreating them to send the premised assistance for the 120 JAMES DOUGLAS. rcstoiing of tlio queen and tlio ancient religion, tlie latter depending-, tliey said, upon the forajer. Anotlier parliament being appointed for tlie ::i5lh of .January, 1510, ihe (pieen's l>arty, llirougli the unt was prorogued from the 25th of January till tlie begin- ning of 3iay ; and on the 5tii of February, tlie earl of Morton, lU)bert Pitchirn, abbot of Dunferndine, and James Maegill, were despatched to London to iiold the conference. For this second conference before the agents of Elizabeth we must lefer our readers to the life of Mary queen of Scots. We cannot for a moment Biippose that i'Jizabeth had any serious intentions, at any period of tier captivity, to restoi-e queen .Alary, and they were probably less so now than ever. The proposals she made at this time, indeed, Avere so degrading to both parties as to be rejected by both with equal cordiality. There had been in this Avhole business a great deal of shuftting. Mary had undertaken for her partisans that they would deliver up to Elizabeth the fugitives that had made their escape from justice, or in other words, from the punishment which they had made themselves liable to on her account ; but instead of being delivered up to Eliza- beth tliey were safely conveyed into Flanders. Mary had also engaged that her partisans should abstain from courting any foreign aid; but an agent from the passed between the connuissioners, to the nobles assend>led at Stirling, who entirely approved of the conduct of the com- missioners ; but the fiuthcr consideration of the embassy was postponed to the lirst of May, when the parliament was sunuuoned to assemble. 13oth parties were now fully on the alert ; the one to hold, and the other prevent, the meeting on the day appointed. IMorton, after the nobles had approved of his conduct. JAMES DOUGLAS. 121 returned to liis house at Dalkeith, attended by a hundred foot soldiers and a few horse, as a guard, in ciise he should be attacked by the townsmen, or to repress their incursions till a sutHclent force could be collected. INIorton, as desired by the regent, havino- sent a detachment of a few horsemen and about seventy foot to Lcith, to publish a proclamation, forbidding any person to sup- ply the faction of the cjueeii Mith provisions, arms, or Marlike stores, under pain of being- treated as rebels, they were attacked in their way back to Dal- keith, and a smart skirmish ensued, in uhich the townsmen were driven back into the city, thougli with no great loss on either side. This was the begin- ning of a civil war that raged with unusual bitterness till it was terminated by the intervention of Elizabeth. The regent not being prepared to besiege the toAvn, wished to abstain from violence; but determined to liold the approaching parliament in the Canongate, within the liberties of the city, at a jdace called t>t John's cross, he erected two fortifications, one in Leith Wynd, and the other at the Dove Craig, whence his soldiers fired into the town during the whole time of the sitting of the parliament, slaying great nunibei'S of the soldiers and citi- zens. This parliament forfeited 31aitland the secretary, and two of his brothers, with several othere of the party, and was held amid an almost constant dis- charge of cannon from the castle : yet no one was hurt. On its rising, the regent and Morton retired to Leith, when the party of the queen burnt down the houses without the walls that had been occupied by them ; and as they with- drew towards Stirling, they sent out tlieir horsemen after them to Cox'Storpliine. Before tliey reached that place, however, the regent was gone ; but they at- tacked the earl of Morton, who slowly withdrew towards Dalkeitli. As Morton afterwards waylayed all tliat carried provisions into the town, a party was sent out, supposed to be sufficiently strong to bui-n Dalkeith. The earl, how- ever, gave them battle, and repulsed them to the marches of the Borough iMuir. The gari'ison seeing from the castle the discomfiture of their friends, sent out a reinforcement, which turned the tide of victoi7 ; and but for the carelessness of one of the party, who dropped his match into a baiTel of powder, tl»e whole of Morton's party might have fallen victims to their temerity in pur- suing the enemy so far. This accident, whereby the horse that carried the powder and many of the soldiers were severely scorched, put an end to the af- fray. Elizabeth all this while had professed a kind of neutrality between the parties. Now, however, she sent Sir William Drury to Kirkaldy, the captain of the castle, to know of him whether he held the castle in the queen's name or in the name of the king and regent ; assuring him that if he held it in the name of tlie queen, Elizabeth would be his extreme enemy, but if otherwise that she would be his friend. The captain declared that he owned no authority in Scotland but that of queen Mary. The regent, when Drury told him this, sent him back to demand the house to be rendered to him, in the king's name ; on Avhich, he and all that were along with him should be pardoned all by-past of- fences, restored to their rents and possessions, and should have liberty to depart with all their effects. This otler, the captain, trusting the " carnal wit and policy of Lethington," was so wicked and so foolish as to refuse, and the war was continued with singular barbarity. The small party in the castle, in order to give the colour of law to their procedure, added the absurdity of holding a parliament, in which they read a letter from the king's mother, declaring her resignation null, and requesting that she might be restored, which was at once complied with ; only they wanted the power to take her out of the hands of Elizabeth. In order to conciliate the multitude, they declared that no altera- tion should be made in the presbyterian religion, only those preachers who should refuse to pray for the queen were forbidden to exercise their functions. 122 JAMES DOUGLAS. These mock forms, from «hicli no doubt a man of so much cunning as Letliin;^:- ton expected hapjiy results, tended only to render the party ridiculous, without producing them a single p:u-tisan. 'Ihe regent, all «hose motions were directed by 31orton, A>as in«leratigable, and by an order of the estates, the country was to send him a certain number of men, who were to serve for tliree months, one part of tiie counti-y relieving the oiher by turns. To narrate tlie various sivirniisiies of tiie contending parties, as they tended so little to any de- cisive result, though the subject of this memoir had a principal hand in them all, would be an unprofitable as well as an unpleasant task. We shall there- fore pass over the greater part of them ; but the tbllo\viiig we cannot omit. 3Iorton, being weary and worn out with constant watching, and besides atilicted with sickness, retired with the regent to Stirling, where the whole party, along with the English ambassador, thought themselves in perfect security. The men of the castle, in order to make a flourish before Sir William Drury, came forth with their whole forces, as if to give their opponents an open challenge, to face them if they dared to be so bold. 31orton, who was certainly a brave man, being told of this circumstance, rose from his bed, put on his armour, and led forth his men as far as Restalrig, where he put them in battle array, facing the queen's adherents, who had drawn up at the Quarrel Holes, having along with tliem two tield-pieces. Drury i-ode between the armies and entreated them to return home, and not spoil all hopes of acconnnodation by fresh bloodshed. '1 o tills he at length brought tlicm to agree, only they wanted to know who should leave the ground hist. Drury endeavoured to satisfy both by stiinding between the armies, and giving a signal which both should obey at the same time. Blorton was willing to obey the signal ; but his enemies threatened that if he did not retire of his own accord they would drive him from the lield with dis- grace. This was enough for a man of his proud spirit. He was loath to oflend the English ; but he conceived that he had abundantly testified his moderation, and he therefore rushed like a whirlwind upon his foes, who, panic-siruck, fled in a moment towards the nearest gate, which not being wide enough to receive at once the flying cloud, many were trodden down and t.iken prisoners ; only one small party who rallied in an adjoining church-yard, but who again fled at the tii-st charge, made any resistance. So complete vvas the panic and so dis- orderly the flight, that, leaving the gates unguarded, every man fled full speed towards the castle ; and had not the regent's soldiers, too intent upon plunder, neglected the opportunity, the city might have been taken. Gavin Hamiltoi!, abbot of Kilwinning, was slain, with upwards of fit'ty soldiers, and there were taken prisoners the lord Home, captain CuUen, a relation of Huntly's, and up- w.irds of seventy soldiers, with some horsemen, and the two field-pieces. On the side of the regent there were slain captain Wymis and one single soldier This adventure befel on Saturday the 26th of June, and, for its fatal issue, was long called by the people of lulinburgh, the Black Saturday. The faction of the (jueen held another parliament in the month of August, still more ridi- culous than the preceding ; but in the month of September, Kirkaldy, the governor of the c;istle, projected an expedition of the most decisive character, and which, had it succeeded, must have put an end to the war. 'I his was no less than an attempt to surprise Stirling, where the regent and all the nobles in amity with him, were assendjled to hold a parliament, and it was hoped they sliould all be either killed or taken prisoners at the same moment. Tiie lead- ers who were cliosen to execute the project, were the eax-1 of Huntly, lord (laud Hamilton, the laird of 15uccleuch, and the laird of Wormeston, and they wvre allowed three hundred loot and t^vo hundred hoi-semen ; and that the foot might reach their destination unlatigued, they pressed the day before evei-y JAMES DOUGLAS. 123 liorse that camo into tlic iiiailict, iij>on \\lii(;l», aixl hohiiid tlie horsemen, they were all mounted. In this manner they left Edinburgh on the evening of tlie 3d of Septemijer, 1571. Taking an opposite direction till they were fairly quit of the toAvn, tliey marched straight for Stirling, uhcre they arrived at three o'clock in the morning, and reached the market place witluiiit so miicli as a dog lifting its voice against tham. They had for their guide George l?cll, a native of Stirling, uho knew evci'y individual lodging and stable within it, and his first care was to point them ail out, that men might be stationed at them, to force up doors and bring forth the prisoners out of the lodgings, and horses from the stables. The footmen were placed in the streets by bands, with orders to shoot every person belonging to the town, without distinction, who might come in their way. llie stables Avere instantly cleared, (for the greater part of the invaders belonged to tiie borders, and were excellently well acquainted with (%nrrying oft" prizes in the dark,) and the finest horses of the nobility were collected at the east port. The prisoners too had been most- ly seized, and were already in the streets, ready to be led away, for they were not to be put to death till they were all assembled outside the town wall. Morton, however, happened to be in a strong house, and with his servants made such a desperate resistance that the enemy could only obtain entrance by setting it on fiie. After a number of his servants had been killed, he made his escape through the flames and surrendered himself prisoner to his relation the laird of Buccleuch. '1 he regent too was secured and the reti'eat sounded, but the merchants' shops had attracted the borderers, and they could not on the in- stant be recalled from their ordinary vocation, till Erskine of Blarr, >vho com- manded the castle, issued out with a body of musqueteers, which he placed in an unfinished house that commanded the market place, and which, from its being- empty, the maiauders had neglected to occupy. From this connuanding station he annoyed them so gTievonslj that they fled in confusion, and in the narrow lane leading to the gate trode down one another, so that had there been any tolerable number to join in the pursuit, not one of them could have escaped. 'Ihe inhabitants of the town, however, were fast assembling, and the invaders were under the necessity of quitting their prisoners or of being instantly cut to pieces. Those who had taken Alexander earl of Glencairn and .lames earl of iVIorton, were fain, for the saving of their lives, to deliver themselves up to their prisoners; and captain C'alder, seeing the day lost, shot the regent, who was in the hands of Spence of Wormeston. Woraieston had already received two wounds in defending his prisoner, and now he was slain outright. Two of these who had struck at the I'egent and wounded him after being taken, not being able to escape to their friends, were seized and hanged. 'I'he pur- suit was however prevented, by the thieves of Teviotdale having in the begin- ning of the afiair can-ied oft' all the horses, so that those who once got clear of the gale had no difficulty in escaping. There were in Stirling at this time with the regent, Morton, Argyle, (.'assillis, Glencairn, Eglinton, 3Iontrose, Buchan, Rulhven, Glamis, Sempill, Ochiltree, Cathcart, and 31ethven, all of whom, had the plot succeeded, would have been either killed or made pri- sonei-s. The regent died the same night, and Marr succeeded him in his office, though it was supposed that Morton was the choice of tiie queen of England, The parliament was continued by the new regent, and a great number of the queen's faction were forefaulted. The parliament was no sooner concluded than the regent hastened to besiege Edinburgh, for which great preparations had been made by the regent Lennox, lately deceased, Scotsmen in those days had but little skill in attacking fortified places, and though the regent erected batteries in difterent situations, their eftl.rts were inconsiderable. The siege cf 124 JAMES DOUGLAS. course was abandoned, and the former kind of ceaseless hostility renewed. Maitland and KirkaUly, in company, now had recom-se to Elizal.elh to seltle their disputes : but tliey expected their property and their offices restored, and for se<:urity, lluit Kirkaldy should retain the command of the castle. Elizabetli offered to protect them and to treat with the regent on their behalf; but, laying aside disjruise, she informed them that Mar>- had been so ill advised, and adopt- ed measin-es so dangerous to her, that while she lived she should neither have liberty nor rule. It was about this time that John, lord Maxwell, was married to a sister of Archibald, earl of Angus. 31orton, for the entertainment of a number of gen- tlemen and ladies on the occasion, had store of wines, venison, &:c. pro- vided, which being brought from Perth on the way towards Dalkeith, was taken by a party of hoi-semen from the castle ; whicli so enraged 3Iorton. that he sent a'number of anued men into Fife, who destroyed all the corn on the lands of the governor of the castle, and burnt his house ; and the governor the same night succeeded in burning the whole town of Dalkeith. The same detestable \vickediiess was, by both parties, committed in various other places shortly after. In INIarch, 1572, all the mills in the neighbourhood of Edinburgh were broken down, that the inhabitants might be cut off from their supply of meal ; and by placing soldiers in Corstorphine, Redhall, Merchiston, Craigmillar, and other defensible places in the neighbourhood of the town, it came to be closely bloclc- aded. Wlioever was found carrying any necessary to the town was brought down to Leith, where he was either hanged or drowned, or at the very least burnt in the cheek. So inveterate, indeed, had the parties now be(;ome, that prisoners taken in the held of open war, were instantly hanged on both sides. Ihis blind brutality was carried on without intermission for nearly t\vo months. The town of Edinburgh was now reduced to the greatest straits, and nothing but tlie deepest infatuation coidd have prevented the governor of the castle from surrendering, especially as Elizabeth, by her ambassador, was willing to treat witii tiie regent on his behalf. A truce was, however, etl'ected by the mediation of the French and English ambassadors, the town was made patent to the gover- nor, and the banished clergy were all allowed to return, but still no terms of nmtual agreement could be devised, and the regent Marr, broken in spirit for the wickedness and folly of his countrymen, died, as has been generally sup- posed, of a broken heart, on the 2lth of October, 1572. 3Iorton had now a tair field for iiis ambition, and on the 24th of November, he was elected regent, in the room of the earl of 31arr. During the reign of the three former regents, ^Morton had been a principal actor in all matters of importance, and there did not appear to be any positive change in his principles and vie\^s, now that he was at liberty to act for him- self. He still proffered peace upon the conditions that had been held out b) his predecessor, but Grange, who connnanded the castle, having risen in his de- mands, and Maitland being a man of whom he was jealous, he fell upon the plan of treating with the party separately, and by this means ruining, or at least, disabling the whole. In this he was assisted, perhaps unwittingly, by the English ambassador KilligTCw, who, now that a partisan of England was at the head of the government, laboured to bring about a reconciliation between all parties. Under his auspices a con-espondence was accordingly entered into with the two most po\Nerful leaders of the party, Chatelherault and Huntly, by whom a renewal of the truce was gladly accepted. Kirkaldy, who refused to bo included in tiie prolonijation of the truce, tired some cannon at six o'clock in the morning after it h.ad expired, against a place which had been turned into a tisli market, whereby one man was slain and several wounded. The ambassa- JAMES DOUGLAS. 125 (loi- seeing this, initnedLttely moved Iionie, and Sir James Balfour, who lind heen all the time of the dispute an ituiiate of the castle, hastened to make his siilmiissioii to the regent, and demand a pardon, wiiich was cheertully gr;iiited, witii resto- ration at once to ail his possessions. Perhaps rather otlended than mollified hy this kindness on the part of the regent towards his friend, the governor pro- claimed from the walls of the c^istle his intention to destroy the town, connuand- ing at the same time, all the queen's true subjects to leave the place, that they might not be involved in that ruin that was intended only for her enemies. Within two days afier, a strong wind blowing from the west, he sallied out in the evening, and set lire to the houses at the foot of the rock, which burned eastward as far as the 31agdalen chapel. At the saule time he sent his Ciinnon- shot along the path taken by the conilagration, so that no one dared to ap- proach to put it out. This useless (;ruelty made him alike odious to his friends and his enemies, and they " sa cryit out with maledi(;tions that he was saif frne na mannis cursing." The estates, notwithstanding all this, met in the end of .lanuary, when tiiey passed several acts against papists and despisers of the king's authority. This meeting of the estates had no sooner broken up, tl an a meet- ing was held at Perth with the leading noblemen, who had first been of the queen's faction, when a treaty was entered into, by which a general amnesty >vas granted to all who should profess and support the protestant religion, and submit themselves to the authority of the regent. The only persons excepted from this anniesty, were the murderers of the king, and the regents Moray and Lennox, the archbishop of Glasgow, Mary's ambassador in Fran(-e, and the bishop of Ross, her ambassador in l^Jngland, both of whom Avere under a sentence of outlawry. Liberty was also reserved for Kirkaldy and his associates to take the benefit of this anmesty if they did it within a given time. The English am- bassador, anxious for the fate of a brave man, waited in the castle to show the governor the treaty, and to advise his acceding to it, but Maitland had so pos- sessed him with the idea of assistance from abroad, that he was deaf to all ad- vice. ]Morton, indeed, had not the means of reducing the castle himself; but he made innuediate appli<^tion to Elizabeth for a supply of cannon and of sol- diers who could work them, which application she received mcst graciously, and Sir William Drury with a body of troops and a train of artillery left Berwick upon that service in the month of April, 1573. Before the march of the troops, however, a special treaty was concluded, whereby the terms upon which the aitl was granted were particularly specified, and hostages were granted for the ful- filment of these terms. No time was lost in commencing the siege, and notwith- standing the skill and the bravery of the governor, the place was speedily re- duced. The fall of part of the chief tower choked up the well which atlbrdess of Edinbursh upon the ■3d day of Aumist, 1573. Kirkaldy had been au early friend ar.d an intrepid defender of the reformation : but his old age, in consequence perhaps of the companionships he had formed, was unworthy of his youth, and his end wrs most miserable. This was the last stroke to the interests of ^lary in Scotland. The regent's first c.ire was to repair the castle, the keeping of which he com- mitted to his brother. George Douglas of Park head, he himself going in person to repress the disorders that had so long prerailed among the borderers, and h.id been so often complained of by the English government .\long with Sir John Forrester, the English warden for the middle march, he adjusted the exist- ing ditferences, and concerted measures to prevent their recurrence. From the chiefs of the ditferent districts he exacted hostages for their good behaviour ; and he appointed Sir James Home of Cowdenkno^i^ Sir John Carmichael, one of his principal ministers, and lord Maxwell, as wardens for the eastern, the middle, and the western marches. Having settled the borders, Morton neirt applied himself to correct the disorders in the country in geueral, and to the resndar distribution of justice : and in this, says the author of the history of James the sixth, " he wished to punish the transgressor rather be his gndes than be death." " He had also anither purpose." sap the same author, " to heap up a aT*-it treasure wlvatsoever way it niiffht be obtained. For the first he pros- pered in etTect very well : and as to the uther, he had greater luck than any three kings had before him in sa short a space. For not only he coUectit all the king's rents to his awin proinr, but also controllit the ymg king's family in sik sort, as they war content of sik a small pension as he pleased to appoint. Secondly, when any benefices of the kirk vaikit, he keeped the protfit of their rents sa Linff in his awin hand, till he wtis urgit be the kirk to mak donation tharof, and that wns not sriven but proffit for all that. And becaus the wairds and marriages war also incidental raaners of the crowni, and fell frequently in thais dayis, as commonly they do, he obtainit als great proffit of ilk ane ot them as they war of avail, and as to the judes of those wha ^rar Ony way diso- bedient to the lawis, and that the same fell in the king's hand, the parties of- fenders escapit not but paj-ment in the highest degree. And to this eiVect he had certain interpreters and coraponitors wha componit with all parties, accord- ing to his ain direction : and he sa appointed with them for the payment, thaJ it sould either be made in fjne gold or f>Tie silver." The above, ne doubt not, is a pretty fair orenei-al statement of 3Iorton*s ordinary- modes of procedure. He also sentenced to whipping and imprisonment, those who dared to eat flesh in lent, but the sentences were uniformly remitted upon paying rir.es. His exac- tions upon the church perlutps were not the most aggravated of his doings, but thev cert-ninly brought him a larger sliare of odium than any other. The thirds of benefices had been appropriated for the maintenance of the protestant clergy : but from tl»€ avarice of the nobility, wlio had seized upon the revenues of the church, even these thirds could not be collected with either certainty or regu- larity. During the late troubles, they had in many places been entirely lost sight of; to remedy this detect, Morton proposed to vest them in the ctowti, under promise to make the stipend of everj minister local, and pa^-abie in the parish where he served. If upon trial this arrangement should be found ineli- gible, he engaged to repLace them in their former situation. No sooner, how- erer, did he obtain possession of the thirds, than he appointed one man to serve JAMES DOUGLAS. 127 peihnps four oliiirchos, in uhicli he was to preach alternately, witli the stiiiend ol" one pnrisli oi;ly ; by which means he pociveteil two-tliirtls, with theexeeplion of tlic trifle given to ihree illiterate persons who road prayers in the absence o the minister. Tlie allowance to siH)erinten(lenls was stop|:e»l at the same time ; and when application was made at court, they were told the cilice was no longer necessary, bishops being placed in the diocese, to whom of riyht the ecclesias- tical jurisdiction belonged. The ministers complained, and desired to be put on tlieir ftirmer footing, but they were told that the thirds belonged to the king and the management of them behoved of course to belong to the regent and council, and not to the church. The assembly of 1574, in oi-der to counteract tile effects of their own simplicity, decreed that though a minister should be ap- pointed to more churches tlian one, he should take the charge of that alone where he resided, and bestow upon the others only what he could spare without interfering with the duty he owed to his particular charge. In the summer of 1575, an alfray on the borders had well nigh involved 31 or- ton in a contest with Elizabeth. Sir .lohn Cannichael, one of the Scottish \\ardens, had delivered up some outlaws to Sir John Foi'rester the English \varden, and now made application to that officer to have a notorious thief delivered up to him ; Forrester showed a disposition to evade the demand, and some of the Scottish attendants uttered their dislike in terms ruder than suited the polite eai's of Englishmen. Sir John Forrester then said, that Sir John Carmichael was not an equal to him ; and his followers, without ceremony, let fly a shower of arrows, that killed one Scotsman dead, and wounded many others. Inferior in numbers, the Scots were fain to flee for their lives, but meeting some of their countrymen from Jedburgh, they turned back, and dispersing the Englishmen, chased them within their own borders, and slew by the way (jeorge Heron, keeper of Tine- dale and Keddisdale, with twenty-four common men. Forrester himself they took prisoner, along with Francis Russell, son to the earl of Bedford, Cudbert Collingwood, and several others, whom they sent to the regent at Dalkeith ; who, heartily sorry for the aflray, received them with kindness, entertained them hospitably for a few tlays, and dismissed them courteously. Elizabeth, informed of the circumstance, demanded by her andjassador, KilligTew, imme- diate satisfaction. Morton had no alternative but to repair to the border, near Berwick, where he was met by the earl of Huntington, and after a conference of some days, it was agreed that Sir John Carmichael should be sent prisoner into England. Elizabeth finding on inquiry that her own warden liad been the of- fender, and pleased with the submissive conduct of Morton, ordered Carmichael in a few weeks to be honourably dismissed, and gratified him with a handsome present. Morton, having a greedy eye to the temporalities of the church, had from the beginning been unfriendly to her liberties, and by his encroachments had awakened a spirit of opposition that gathered strength every year till the whole fabric of episcopacy was overturned. This embroiled him with the general as- sembly every year, and had no small etlect in hastening" his downfall ; but in the bounds we have prescribed to our narrative, we cannot introduce the subject in such a way as to be intelligible, and must therefore pass it over. In the end of 157 5, the regent coined a new piece of g(dd of the weight of one ounce, and ordained it to pass current for twenty pounds. In the follow- ing year, a feud fell out betwixt Athole and Argyle, which the regent hoped to have turned to his own account by imposing a fine upon each of them ; but they being aware of his plan, composed their own differences, and kept out of his clutches. An attempt which IMorton had before this made upon Semple of Beltrees and Adam Whitford of Olilntown, had given all men an evil opinion of 128 JAMES DOUGLAS. f:is disposition, nnd made them wish for the subversion of his pouer. Seinplc had married ]Mary Livingston, one of queen Mary's maids of honour, and had received alon!» with her, in a present from liis royal mistress, tlie lands of Bel- trees, which 31orton now proposed to reassunie as crown lands, which, it was alleged, were unalienable. Semple, on licaring of this design, was reported to have exclaimed, that if he Inst his lands he should lose his head also ; on which INIortoa had him apprehended and put to the torture, under which, as most men will do, he confessed ^vhatever they thought fit to charge him with, and was condemned to be exe<;uted, but ^vas pardoned upon the scalfold. His uncle Adam Wiiitford was also tortured respecting the same plot ; but though they mangled his body nM)st cruelly, he utterly denied that he knew of any such thing. The firm denial of the uncle gained of course entire credit, while the confession of the nephew was ridiculed as the effect of weakness and fear. Ir- ritated with the repi'oaches which were now pretty liberally heaped upon him, Morton conceived the idea of heightening his reputation by demitting, or offer- ing to demit his office into the hands of the king, who was now in his twelfth year. He accordingly, on the 12th day of September, 1577, proposed his re- signation to his majesty, who, by the advice of Athole and Argyle, accepted it : and it was shortly after declared to the people of Edinburgh by the Lyon King at Anns, assisted by twelve heralds, and accompanied by a round from the castle guns. IMorton, taken at his word, seems to have retired to Locldeven in a Ivind of pet, but speedily contrived to regain that power by force which he had apparently laid down of his free will. Having possessed himself of the castle and garrison of Stirling, he dexterously contrived to engross the same or at least equal power to what he possessed as regent ; nor had he learned to tem- per it with any more of moderation. He brought the parliament that had been summoned to meet at Edinburgh, to Stirling ; and he carried every thing in it his own way. He also narrowly escaped kindling another civil war ; yet he still meditated the ruin of the Hamiltons, and the enriching of himself and his taction by their estates. The earl of Arran had been for a number of years insane, and confined in the castle of Draffan. But his brother, lord John Hamilton, a<;ted as the administrator of his estates, and Claud was commendator of Paisley ; both the brothers had l^en excepted from the amnesty granted at Perth, as being concerned in the murder of the king and the regent Murray, and Morton had now formed a scheme to involve them in a criminal sentence on that account, and to seize upon their estates. Informed of the plot, the brothers got happily out of the way, but their castles were seized ; and because that of Hamilton had not been given up at the first sunnnons, the garrison were marched to Stirling as felons, and the commander hanged for his fidelity. Still, however, Arran, being insane, was guiltless, but he was made answerable for his servants, and because they had not yielded to the sununons of the king, he was convicted of treason and his estates forfeited. In the same spirit of justice and immanity, IMorton apprehended a schoolmaster of the name of Tuin- buU, and a notary of the name of Scott, who had written, in conjunction, a satire upon some parts of his character and conduct, brought them to Stirling, where they were convicted of slandering " ane of the king's councilloi-s, and hanged for their pains." The violent dealing of the wicked almost invariably returns upon their own heads, and so in a short time did that of 31orton ; for while he was still meditating mischief, he was n ost unexpectedly a<'cused by the king's new favourite, captain Stewart, of being an accomplice in the murder of the king's father. He was instantly committed to the o'lstle of Edinburgh, thence carried to Dumbarton, and thence back to Edinburgh, where he was brought to trial on the 1st of June, 1551. Previously to his removal from JAMES DOUGLAS. 129 Dumbarton, the estate and title of the Earl of Arran, uhich he had so iniqiii- toiisly caused to be forfeited, were bestowed upon captain Ste\vart, his accuser; who, at the same time that he was invested with the estate and title, received a <',oinmission to bring up the ex-regent from Dumbarton to Edinburgh, whicli lie did at the head of one thousand men. Wlien the commission was si-own to Morton, struck with the title, he inquired who he was, not having lieanl of his exaltation. Being told, he exclaimed, " then I know what I have to expect." The jury that sat upon his trial was composed of his avowed enemies, and though he challenged the earl of Argyle and lord Seton as prejudiced against him, they were allowed to sit on liis assize. Of the nature of the proof adduced against him we know nothing, as our historians have not mentioned it, and the records of the court respecting it have either been destroyed or lost. He was, however, pronounced guilty of concealing, and guilty art and part in the king's murder. " Art and part," he exclaimed twice, with considerable agitation, and striking the ground violently with a small walking-stick, " God knows it is not so." He heard, however, the sentence with perfect composure. In the interval between his trial and execution, he felt, he said, a serenity of mind to which he had long been a stranger. Resigning himself to his fate, he supped cheerfully and slept calndy for a considerable part of the night. He was next morning visited by several of the ministers, and an interesting account of the conference which John Dury and Walter Balcanqulial had with him, has been preserved. Ke- specling the crime for which he was condemned, be confessed, that after his return from England, whither ho had fled for the slaughter of Rizzio, he met Bothwell at Whittingham, who informed him of the conspiracy against the king, and solicited him to become an accomplice, as the queen anxiously wished his death. He at first refused to have any thing to do with it, but after repeated conferences, in which he was always urged with the queen's pleasure, lie required a warrant under her hand, authorizing the deed, which never having received, he never consented to have any hand in the transaction. On being reminded that his own confessions justified his sentence ; he answered, that ao cording to the strict letter of the law, he Avas liable to punishment, but it was impossible for him to have revealed the plot, for to whom could he have done so ? " To the queen ? she was the author of it. To the king's father ? he was sic a bairn that thei-e was nothing told him but he would tell to her again ; and the two most powerful noblemen in the kingdom, Bothwell and Huntly, were the perpetrators. I foreknew, indeed, and concealed it," added he, " but it was because I durst not reveal it to any creature for my life. But as to being art and part in the commission of the crime, 1 call God to witness that I am entirely innocent." He was executed by an instrument called the maiden, which he himself had introduced into Scotland, on the 3d of June, 1581. On the scafibld he was calm, his voice and his countenance continuing unaltered ; and after some little time spent in devotion, he suffered death with the intre- pidity that became a Douglas. His head was placed on the public gaol, and liis body, after lying till sunset on the scaffold, covered with a beggarly cloak, was carried by common porters to the usual burying place of criminals. " Never \vas there seen," says Spottiswoode, " a more notable example of for- tune's mutability, than in the earl of Morton. He who a few years before had 1)een reverenced by all men, and feared as a king, was now at his end forsaken by all, and made the very scorn of fortune, to teach men how little stability there is in honour, wealth, friendship, and the rest of these worldly things that men do so much admire. In one thing he was nevertheless most happy, that he died truly penitent, with that courage and resignation which became a truly great man and a good christian, and in the full assurance of a blessed inmiortality." 130 JAMES DOUGLAS, M.D. DOL'GLAS, James, 31. D., a skilful anatomist and surgeon, and accom- plished physician, was bom in Scotland in the year 1G75. llavinj^ completed his preliniiiiary education, he proceeded to London, and there applied himself diligently to the studies of anatomy and surgery. 3iedical science was at that period but little advanced, nor were the facilities of acquiring a proficiency in any brancli of it, by any means considerable. Dr Douglas laboured with assi- duity to overcome tlie difficulties against which he had to contend ; — he studied carefully the worlis of the ancients, whicli were at that time little known to his ontemporaries, and sought to supply what in them appeared defective, by closely studying nature. The toils of patient industry seldom go um-ewarded ; and he was soon enabled so far to advance the progress of anatomy and surgery, as to entitle Iiimself to a conspicuous place iu the history of medicine. His " Descripiio Comparativa Musculorum Corjwris Uuiiiani et Qitadrvpedis " was published in London in 1707. The quadruped he chose for his analogy w.ns the dog ; and he thus appears to have proceeded in imitation of Galen, who left on record an account of the muscles of the ape and in man. " As for the comparative part of this treatise, or the interlacing the descriptions of the hu- man muscles with those of the canine, that " says Dr Douglas, •* needs no apolo- gy. Tlie nuiny useful discoveries known from the dissection of quadrupeds, the knowledge of the true structure of divei-s parts of the body, of the course of the blood and the chyle, and of the use and proper action of the parts, that are chiefly owing to this sort of dissection ; these, 1 say, give a veiy warrantable plea for insisting upon it, though it may be censured by the vulgar." His descriptions of the muscles, their origin and insertion, and their various uses, are extremely accurate ; and to them many^ recent authors on myology, of do mean authority, have been not a little indebted. It soon obtained considerable notice on the continent, where, in 173S, an edition appeared in Latin, by John Frederic Schreiber. His anatomical cfief d'ceuvre, however, was the descrip- tion he gave of the peritonaeum, the complicated coui-se and reflections of which, he pointed out with admirable accuracy. His account entitled " a description of the Peritoneum, and of that part of the Membrana C'ellul;u-is which lies on its outside," appeared in London in the year 1730. Nicholas 3Lnssa, and othere of the older anatomists, liad contended that the peritona?uni was a uniform and continuous membrane, but it remained for Dr Douglas to demonstrate the fact ; in which, after repeated dissections, he satisfactorily succeeded. Ocular inspec- tion can alone teach the folds and processes of this membrane ; — but his de- scription is perhaps the best and most complete that can even yet be consulted. Besides his researches in anatomy, Dr Douglas laboured to advance the then rude state of surgery. He studied particularly the diflicult and painfid opera- tion of lithotomy, and introduced to the notice of the profession the methods recommended by J.acques, Kau, and 31ery. In the year 1726, he published " a History of the lateral operation for Stone," which was republished with an appendix, in 1733, and embraced a comparison of the methotls used by differ- ent lithotomists, more especially of tliat which was practised by Cheselden. Dr Douglas taught for many years both anatomy and surgery ; and his fame Having extended, he was appointed physician to the king, who afterwards awarded him a pension of five hundred guineas jwr annum. It may be worth noticing, that while practising in London, he seems to have obtained considerable credit for having detected the imposition of a woman named 3Iaria Tofts, who had for some time imposed successfully on the public. This impostor pretended, that from time to time she underwent an accouchement, during which, she gave birth — not to any human being — but to rabbits ; and this strange deception she practised successfully on many well educated persons. Dr Douglas detected the JA51ES DOUGLAS, M.D. 131 fra'ul, and eKplained the mode by \vhich it was enacted, in an advci'tisement which he published in ^lanningliam's .lournal. During the pei-iod that Dr Dou- glas lectured on anatomy, he was waited upon by 3Ir, afterwards the celebrated Dr William Hunter, who solicited his advice in the direction of his studies. Pleased with his address, and knowing his industry and talents, Dr Douglas ap- pointed him his assistant, and invited him to reside under his roof; an invita- tion which yir William Hunter could not accept, until he had consulted Dr Cullen, with whom he had previously arranged to enter, when he had finished his education, into partnership, for the purpose of conducting the surgical part of his practice : — but his friend Dr Cullen, seeing how important to him would be his situation under Dr Douglas, relinquished c'.ieerfuUy his former agreement ; and young Hunter was left at liberty to accept the situation he desired. He thus became the assistant of, and found a kind benefactor in Dr Douglas ; who must have been amply rewarded, had he lived to see the high fame to which his pupil attained. Thus often it happens, that the patron and preceptor of an obscure and humble boy, fostei^s talents Mhich afterwards rise and shine even M'ith gi'eater brilliancy than his own. Dr Douglas not only attended to the practical duties of his profession, but excelled in what may be termed its literai-y department. He was an erudite scholar, and published a work entitled " Bibli- ograpIiitE Anatomicce .tpecimen, seu Catalogus pene Omnium Anciorum qui ab Hippocrate ad Harveium rem Anatomicam ex professo vel obiter scripsit illastrarunt.^^ This woi-k appeared in London in the year 1715, and was re- published in Leyden in 1734, which edition was enriched by several important additions from the pen of Albinua. Portal, in his history of anatomy and sur- gery, thus eulogises this valuable work — " c'est le tableau le plus fidele, et le plus succinct de I'anatomie ancienne. Douglas fait en peu de mots I'histoire de chaque anatomiste, indique leurs editions, et donne une legere notice de leurs ouvrasres : sa liste des ecrivains est tres etendue c'est ouvrage est une des meilleurs modelles qu'on puisse sui^i-e pour donner I'histoire d'une sci- ence et j'avoue que je m'en suis beaucoup servi."^ Haller, when in London, visited Dr Douglas, and informs us that he was highly pleased with his anatomi- cal preparations ; particularly with those which exhibited the motions of the joints, and the internal structure of the bones. A tribute of admii-ation from such a man as the illustrious Haller cannot be too highly appreciated ; — he ob- serves, tliat he found him " a learned and skilful person ; modest, candid, and oblioino- ; and a veiy diligent dissecter." Besides devoting his attention to those departments of his profession in the exercise of which he was most parti- cularly engaged, Dr Douglas seems to have pui-sued botany, not only as a re creation, but as a graver study. In the year 1725, he published *' LiUiim Sar- 7fl2ense," or a description of the Guernsey lily. His work, descriptive of this beautiful flower, appeared in folio, illustrated by a plate, and is an admirable monograph. He also analysed with peculiar care the coflee seed, and published a work entitled "Arbor Ye/nensis,^' a description and history of the coti'ee tree, which may still be consulted as containing a great deal of curious and valuable information. We also find in the Transactions of the royal society of London, that he contributed to that work, a description of the flower and seed vessel of the Crocus Autumnalis Sativus ; and an essay on the difterent kinds of Ipeca- cuanha. In addition to these labours, moi-e or less connected with his imme- diate professional avocati(ms, we find that he collected, at a gi-eat expense, all the editions of Horace which had been published from 147G to 1739. Dr Harwood, in his view of Greek and Roman classics, observes, that " this cue 1 Historie de ranatomie et de le chirurgie, par 31. Porta], lecteur du Roi et professeur ie medicine au college royale de France, &c., a Paris, 1770. toin. iv. p. 403. 132 JOHN DOUGLAS— JOHN DOUGLAS, D.D. aiitlior multiplieil, must thus liave formed a very considerable library." An ac- curate catalogue of tliese is prefixed to WatSDu's Horace.' In addition to tiie works we have mentioned, L)r Douglas projected a splendid design of one on the bones, and another on Hernia, wliicii, notwithstanding the great advancement of medical science since his time, we regret tiiat he did not live to complete. lie died in the year 1742, in the sixty-seventh year of his age ; and when we consider the period in which he lived, and the essential services he rendered towards the advancement of medical science, the homage of the highest lespect is due to his memory. DOUGLAS, John, the brother of the eminent physician whose biography we have already given, attained to considerable eminence as a surgeon, in which capacity he olliciated to the Westminster infirmary. His name is principally distinguished among those of oth9r medical men, for his celebrity as a lithoto- mist, and for having written a treatise insisting on the utility of bark in morti- fication. His work on the high operation for the stone, obtained for him con- siderable reputation ; and will give the mtdical reader an accurate notion of the state of the surgical art at the period in which he lived. He also practised midwifory, and criticised with no iiiconsiderable .isperity the works of Cham- berlain and Cliapman. He nppeai-s, indeed, to have been the author of several controversial works, which have deservedly floated down the stream of time into obscurity. Among others we may notice one, entitled " Remarks on a late pompous IVork ;" a severe and very unjust criticism on Cheselden's admirable Osteology. He wrote some useful treatises on the employment of purgatives in Syphilis; but by far his most important was " aji account of Mortificationx, and of the surprising effect of Bark in putting a stop to their progress." This remedy had already been tried successfully in gout by Sydenham ; in typhus by llamazzini and Lan/oni ; by Monro, Wall, and Huxham, in malignant variolo ; and after Rushwoith had tried it in the gangrene following intermit- tent fevers, it was introduced by Douglas, and afterwards by Shipton, Grindall, ^^ evlhof, and Heister, in ordinary cases of gangi-ene.^ 'Ibis same Scottish fami- ly, we may add, gave birth to Robert Douglas, who published a treatise on the generation of animal heat; but the rude state of Physiology, and of animal chemistry, at that period, rendered abortive all speculation on this difficult, but still interesting subject of investigation. DOUGLAS, John, D. D., bishop of Salisbury, was born at Pittenweem, Fifeshire, in the year 1721. His father was 3Ir John Douglas, a respectable merchant of that town, a son of a younger brother of the ancient family of lilliquilly. Young Douglas commenced his education at the schools of Dunbar, whence in the year 173(5, he was removed, and entered commoner of St Mary's college, Oxford. In the year 173S, he was elected exhibitioner on bishop Warner's foundation, in Baliol college; and in 1741, he took his bachelor's degree. In order to acquire a facility in speaking the French language, he went abroad, and remained for some time at Montreal in Picardy, and afterwards at Ghent in Flanders. Having returned to college in 1743, ho was ordained deacon, and in the following year he was appointed chaplain to the third foot guards, and joined the regiuient in Flanders, where it was then serving with the allied army. During the period of his service abro.nd, Dr Douglas occupied himself chiefly in the study of modern languages ; but at the same time he took a lively interest in the operations of the army, and at the battle of Fontenoy, was em- ployed in carrying ordei-s from general (,'ampbell to a detachment of English troops. He returned to England along with that body of troops, which was •2 See also Hulltr Bib. Aiiat. and Chirurg. * fjprcjel Histoiru cle la iMnliciiie, tuni. v. f. 412. JOHN DOUGLAS. D.D. 133 ordered home on the breaking out of the rebellion of 1745 ; and having gone back to college, he was elected one of the exhibitioners on I\Ir Snell's founda- tion. In the vear 1747, he was ordained priest, and became curate of Tile- hui-st, near Heading, and afterwards of Dunstew, in Oxfordshire. On the re- commendation of Sir Charles Stuart and lady Allen, he was selected by the earl of iJath to accompany his only son lord Pultcney, as tutor, in his travels on the continent. Dr Douglas lias left a 3IS. account of this tour, which relates chiefly to the governments and political relations of the countries through which they passed. In the year 1749, he returned home; and although lord Pultcney was prematurely cut ofV, yet the fidelity with wiiich Dr Douglas had discharged his duty to his pupil, procured liini the lasting friendship and valuable pati'on- age of the carl of Bath ; by whom he was presented to the free chapel of Eaton- Constantine, and the donative of Uppington, in Shropshire. In the follouinjf year (1750), he published his first literary work, " The VinrHcation of MiU ion,''^ from the charge of plagiarism, brought ag^ainst him by the impostor Lau- der. In the same year he was pi'es^nted by the earl of Bath to the vicarage of High Ei'cnl, in Shropshire, when he vacated Eaton. Constaatine. Dr Douglas resided only occasionally on his livings. At the desire of the earl of Bath, he took a ho.ise in town, near Bath-House, where he passed the winter months, and in simmer he generally accompanied lord Bath to the fashionable watering places, or in his visits among the nobility and gentry. In the year 1752, he married 3Iiss Dorothy Pershouse, who died within thi'ee months after her nup- tials. In 1754, he published " The Criterion of Miracles.''^ In 1755, he WTote a pamphlet against the Hutchinsonians, 3Iethodists, and other religious sects, which he published under the title oi"An Apology for the Clergi/," and soon after, he published an ironical defence of these sectarians, entitled *' The Destruction of the Frencli foretold by Ezekiel.^'' For many years Dr Douglas seems to have engaged in writing political pamphlets, an occupation most unbe- coming a clergyman. In the year 1761, he was appointed one of his majesty's chaplains, and in 1762, through the interest of the earl of Bath, he was made canon of Windsor. In 1762, he superintended the publication of " Henry the Earl of Clarendon''s Diary and Letters ;" and wrote the preface which is pre- fixed to that work. In June, of that year, lie accompanied the earl of Bath to Spa, where he became acquainted with the hereditary pi'ince of Brunswick, Avho received him with marked attention, and afterwards honoui-ed him with his cor- respondence. Of this correspondence, (although it is known that Dr Douglas kept a copy of all his own letters, and although it Avns valuable from its present- ing a detailed account of the state of parties at the time,) no trace can now be dis- covered. In the year 176 1, the earl of Bath died, and left his library to Dr Douglas, but as general Pulteney wished to presene it in the family, it was redeemed for a thousand pounds. On the death of general Pulteney, however, it was again left to Dr Douglas, when it was a se(;ond time redeemed for the same sum. In 1764, he exchanged his livings in Shropshire for that of St Austin and St Faith in Watling Street, London. In April 1765^ Er Douglas man-ied 31iss Elizabeth Brooke, the daughter of Henry Brudenell Brooke. In the year 1773, he assisted Sir John Dalrymple in the arrangement of his 3ISS. In 1776, he was removed from the chapter of Windsor to that of St Pauls. At the request of lord Sandwich, first lord of the admiralty, he prepai'ed for publication the journal of Captain Cooke's voyages. In the year 1777, he as- sisted lord Hardwick in arranging and publishing his Miscellaneous Papers. In the following year he was elected member of the royal and tiie antiquarian societies. In 1781, at the request of lord Sandwich, he prepared for publira- tion Captiiin Cooke''s tlilrd and last voyage; to which he supplied the introduc- 134 ROBERT TIOUGLAS. tion ami notes. In the same year he was chosen president of Zion college, and I)reaclie(l tlie customary Latin sermon. In 17>SG, lie was elected one of the vice-jtresidents of the antiijuarian society, and in tlie month of 3Iarch of the following year, he was elected one of the trustees of tlie Hritisli niuseuni. In Septemher, 1787, he was made hishop of Carlisle. In 1 7 S8, he succeeded to the Deanery of Windsor, for which he vacated his residentiaryship of St Pauls, and in 1791 he w.is translated to tlie See of Salisbury. And having rcacher improving the fisheries and manufactures of Scotland, and on the 15th October, 1737, he was promoted to be one of the connnissioners of excise. No better proof can be given of the high estimation in which Mr Drummond was held by government, than his rapid promotion ; although the confidential correspondence wliich he maintained with Mr Addison, on the afiairs of Scot- land, was still more honourable to iiiui. GEOKGE DKUiMMOND. 137 The wretched state of poverty and intestine disorder in which Scotland wae loft by her native princes, wlien tliey removed to England, and which was at (irst aggravated by the union of tiie kingdoms, called forth the exertions of many of our most patriotic countrymen ; and foremost in that honourable band stood George Drunnaonil. To him the city of Edinburgh, in particular, owes much. He Avas tiie projector of many of those improvements, which, commenced under his auspices, iiave advanced with unexampled rapidity ; insomuch, that Edin- burgh, from a state approaching to decay and ruin, has risen, almost within the recollection of persons now alive, to be one of the finest aiul most interest- ing cities in the world. The first great undertaking- which Mr Drummond accomplished for the benefit of his native city, was the erection of the royal infirmary. Previous to tlia establishment of tiiis hospital, the physicians and surgeons of Edinburgh, assisted by other members of the connuunity, had contributed £2,000, with whicli they instituted an infirmary for the reception of the destitute sick. But IMr Drum- mond, anxious to secure for the sick poor of the city and neiglibourhood, still more extensive aid, attempted to obtain legislative authority for incorporating the contributors as a body politic and corporate. More than ten years, how- ever, elapsed before he brought the public to a just appreciation of his plan. At last he »vas successful, and an act having been procured, a charter, dated 25th August, 1736, was gi-anted, constituting the contributors an incorporation, with power to erect the royal infirmary, and to purchase lands, and make bye- laws. The foundation stone of this building was laid 2nd August, 1738. It cost nearly £13,000, which was raised by the united contributions of the whole country ; the nobility, gentry, and the public bodies all over the kingdom, making donations for this benevolent establishment ; while even the farmers carters, and timber-merchants, united in giving their gratuitous assistance to rear the building The i-ebellion of 1745 again called Mr Drummond into active service in the defence of his country and its institutions ; and although his nu)st strenuous exertions could not induce the volunteer and other bodies of ti-oops in Edin- burgh, to attempt the defence of the city against the rebels, yet, accompanied by a few of the volunteer corps, he retired and joined the royal forces under Sir John Cope, and was iweseiit at the unfortunate battle of Prestonpans. After that defeat, he retired with the royal forces to Berwick, where lie continued to collect and forward information to government, of the movements of the rebel army. The rebellion of 1745 having been totally quelled in the spring of 174G, Drummond, in the nionth of November following, was a second time elec^ted provost of Edinburgh. In the year 1750, he was a third time provost, and in 1752, he was appointed one of the counuittee for the improvement of the city. The desire of beautifying their native city, so conspicuous among the inhabi- tants of Edinburgh, and which has engaged the citizens of later times in such magnificent schemes of improvement, first displayed itself during the piovostship of Mr DrummontL Proposals were then published, signed by provost Drum- mond, which were circulated through the kingdom, calling upon all Scotsmen to contribute to the improvement of the capital of their country. These proposals contained a plan for erecting an Exchange upon the ruins on the north side of the High Street ; for erecting buildings on the ruins in the Parliament Close ; for the increased acconnnodation of the different courts of justice ; and for offices for the convention of the royal burghs, the town council, and the advocates' library. A petition to parliament was also proposed, praying for an extension of the royalty of the town, in contemplation of a plan for opening new streets 138 GEORGE DRUMMOND. to the south and north ; for building briilges over the intennediate valleys to connect these districts with tiie old town ; and for turning the North Loch into a caitil, wiih terraced gardens on eacli side. In consequence chiefly of the strenuous exertions of provost Drunnnond, the success which attended these pro- jects was ver)- considerable. On the 3d of September, 175.3, he, as grand-iuaa- ter of tlie free nuisons in Scotland, laid the foundation of the royal exchange, on which occasion, tliere was a very splendid procession. In 1754, he was a fourth time chosen provost, chiefly that he might forwai-d and superintend the impvovements. In the year 1755, lie was appointed one of the tru.«tees on the forfeited estates, and elected a manager of the select society for the encou- ragement of arts and sciences in Scotland. In the year 175S, he again held the oSice of provost; and in October, 17(53, during his sixth provostship, he laid the foundation stone of the North Bridge. 3Ir Drummond, having seen his schemes for the improvement of the city ac- complished to an extent beyond his most sanguine expectations, retired from pub- lic life on the expiration of his sixth provostship ; and after enjoying good health until within a short time of his death, he died on the 4th of Novem- ber, 17 66, in the SOth year of his age. He was buried in tlie Canongate churchyard. His funeral, which was a public one, was attended by the magis- trates and town council in their robes, with their sword and mace covered with crape ; by tlie professors of the univei-sity in their gowns ; by most of the lords of session, and bai-ons of the exchequer ; the commissioners of the excise and customs; the ministers of Edinburgli ; several of the nobility ; and some hun- dieds of the principal inhabitants of the city and neighbourhood. A grand funeral concert was performed in St Cecilia's hall, on the I9th of December, to his memory, by the musical society, of which he was deputy-governor. The concert was crowdedly attended, the whole assembly being di-essed in mourning. The most solemn silence and attention prevailed during the performance. Similar honoui-s ^vere paid to his memory by the nuisons' lodge of wliich he had been grand master. The managei-s of the royal infirlllal•^■, some few yeai-s after his death, placed a bust of him by Nollekins in the public hall of the hospital, under «hich the following inscription, written by his friend Dr Robertson the historian, was placed : — •* George Dkummond, to whom this country- is indebted for all the benefit which it derives from tlie royal infirmary." His sti-ict integrity and great talents for business, together Avith his afl'able manners and his powers as a public speaker, which were considerable, peculiarly fitted 3Ir Drunnuond to take a prominent part in civic aflairs. liis manage- ment of the city revenues was highly creditable to him ; and although the great improvements which were accomplished under his auspices, and during his pro- vostships, might have warranted additional demands upon the citizens, he did not even attempt to increase tlie taxation of the town. Not only was he highly popular with his fellow citizens, but during four successive reigns, he obtained the confidence of the various administi'ations successively in power, and was the means of communicating, on several important occasions, most valuable inlbrma- tion to government. 3Ir Drummond was about the middle stature, and was of a graceful and dig- nified deportment. His manners were conciliating and agreeable, and his hos- pitality profuse ; more especially during those years in which he was provost, when he kept open table at liis villa called Urummond Lodge, which stood almost on the site of Bellevue House, (afterwards the custom house, and more recently the excise office,) and nearly in the centre of the modem square called Drummond Place. 3Ir Drummond was strenuous in his support of religion and literature. lie was a member of the " Select Society,'''' which contained ROBERT HAY DRUMMOND. 139 among its members .all the illustrious Scotsmen of the age. It was to him that Ur Kobertson the historian owed his appointment as principal of the uni- versity of E(liiibia-gii, The university was also indebted to him for the insti- tution of five professorehips : viz, chemistry, the theory of physic, the practice of physic, midwifery, and rhetoric and belles lettres. DKb3DI0XD, Robert Hay, archbishop of York, was the second son of George Henry, seventh earl of Kinnoul, and of lady Abigail, second daughter of Robert, earl of Oxford, lord high treasurer of Great Britain. He was born in London, 10th November, 1711. After receiving the preliminary branches of his education at Westminster school, he was removed to Oxford, and entered at Christ Church college, where he prosecuted his studies with great diligence. Having taken his degree, he accompanied his cousin-gerraan, the duke Of Leeds, on a tour to the continent. He returned to college in the year 1735, to pursue the study of divinity, and being admitted M.A. soon after, took holy orders, when he was presented, by the Oxford family, to the Rectory of Bothail in Northumberland. In the year 1737, on the recommendation of queen Caroline, he was appointed chaplain in ordinary to his majesty George II. In 1739, he assumed the name and arms of Drummond, as heir of entail of his great-grandfather, William, viscount of Strathallan ; by whom the estates of Croinlin and Innei'peffry in Perthshire were settled, as a perpetual provision for the second bi-anch of the Kinnoul family. In 1743, he attended George II. in the German campaign, and on the 7th of July preached before the king at Hanover a sermon of thanksgiving for the victory at Dettingen. On his re- turn home, he was installed prebendary of Westminster. In 1715, he was ad- mitted B.D. and D.D. In 1748, he was consecrated bishop of St Asaph. In this diocese he presided for thirteen yeai-s, and was accustomed to look back on the years spent there as t!ie most delightful of his life. In the year 1753, a severe attack having been made on the political conduct of his two most inti- ruate friends, Mr Stone and Mv 3Iurray (afterwards the great lord jMansfield), he stood forward as their vindicator ; and in an examination before the privy council made so eloquent a defence of their conduct, that the king, on reading the exajuination, is said to have exclaimed, — '* That is indeed a nuan to make a friend of." In 3Iay, 1761, he was transkted to the see of Salisbury, and in November following was promoted to the archiepiscopal see of York. He was soon after sworn a privy councillor, and appointed high almoner. He had the honour of preaching the coronation sermon before George III. and queen Charlotte. He died at his palace of Bishopthrope on tiie 10th of December, 1776, in the 6'oth year of his age. His conduct in the metropolitan see was most exemplary ; and Mr Rostal in his history of Southwell speaks of him as • being " peculiarly virtuous as a statesmen, attentive to his duties as a churchman, magnificent as an archbishop, and amiable as a man," while Robert, the late archbishop of York, says, " His worth is written in legible charactei"s in the annals of the church, over which he presided with dignified ability and apos- tolic affection : in those of the state, whose honest counsellor and disinterested supporter he approved himself; and in the hearts of his sui-viving family and friends, who were witnesses to the extent cf his information, the acuteness of his talents, the soundness of his learning, the candid generosity of his heart, and the sweet urbanity of his daily conversation." When he was promoted to the see of Voi'k, he found the palace small and unworthy of the dignity of the primate, and the parish church in a state of absolute ruin. To the palace he made many splendid additions, particularly in the private cluipel ; while, as- sisted by a few small contributions from the clergy and neighbouring genti'y, iia entirely rebuilt the churcii. 140 "WILLIAM DIlUiMJIOND. His grace married on the 3 1 st January, 1748, the daughter and heiress of Peter Auriol, nieroiiant, London, by whom lie had seven chiUhcn. Abigail, who died young and is commemorated by 3Iason in a well known epitaph ; Robert Auriol Uth earl ot' Kinnoul, Thomas I'eter, lieutenant-colonel of the West York militia, John, conmuinder, H.N. tlie reverend Edward, and the reve- rend (ieorge William, who was prebendary in York cathedral, and held many other livings, and who was unfortunately drowned in 1807, while on a voyage from Devonshire to the Clyde. iMr (ieorge ^\ iliiam Drummoiid was the author of a volimie of poems entitled, J'erses Social and Domestic, Edinburgh, 160-2 ; editor of his father's sermons, and author of that prelate's life prefixed totliem. DRUMMOND, William, of Hawtliovnden, a celebrated poet and historian, was born on tlie IStli of December, 1585. His fatlier. Sir John Drummond of Hawthornden, was gentleman usher to king James \T., a place which he had only enjoyed a few months before he died. His mother, Susanna I'owler, was daughter to Sir W illiam Fowler, secretary to the queen, a lady much esteemed for her exemplary and virtuous life. The family of our poet was among the most ancient and noble in Scotland. The first of the name who settled in this country, came from Hungary as ad- miral of the fleet which conveyed over IMargaret, queen to iMalcolm Canmore, at the time \\hen sirnames were first known in Scotland. Walter de Drummond, a descendent of the original founder, was secretary, or as it was termed clerk- register, to the great Bruce, and was employed in various political negotiations witli iuigland, by that prince. Annabella Drummond, queen of king Robert n. and mother of James I. was a daughter of the house of Stobhall, from which were descended the earls of Perth. The Drummonds of Carnock at this early time became a branch of the house of Stobhall, and from this branch William Drinnmond of Hawthornden was immediately descended. The poet was well aware, and indeed seems to have been not a little prnud of his illustrious descent. In the dediciition of his history to John earl of Perth, whom he styles his " very good lord and chief," he takes occasion to ex- patiate at some length on the fame and honour of their conmion ancestors, and sums up his eulogium with tlie followino- words : — " But the greatest honour of all is (and no suliject can liave any greater), that the bit'b and niisrbty princo Charles, king of Great Britain, and the most part of the crowned heads in Europe, are descended of your honourable and ancient family." His consan- guinity, remote as that was to James I., who was himself a kindred genius and a poet, was the circumstance, however, which Urununond dwelt most proudly upon ; and to the feelings which this ga\e rise to, we are to attribute his history. lie indeed intimates liimself, that sut^h was the case, in a manner at once noble and delicate : — ** If we believe some schoolmen," says he, " that the souls of the departed have some dark knowledge of the actions done upon earth, which concern their good or evil; what solace then \\\\\ this bring to James I., that after t^vo hundred years, he hath one of his mother's name and race, that liath renewed his fame and actions in the world ?" Of the early period of our author's life few particulars are known. Ihe rudiments of his education he received at the high school of Edinburgh, where we are told, he disi)layed early signs ot that worth and genius, for which at a maturer age he became conspicuous. From thence, in due time, he entered the university of the same city, where, after the usual course of study, he took his degree of master of arts. He was then well versed in the metaphysical learning of the ])eriod ; but this was not his favourite study, nor was he ever after in his life addicted to it. His first passion, on leaving college, lay in the study of the classical authors of antiquity, and to this ejirly attachment, we luive WILLIAM DRUMMOND. 141 no liesitation in saying, is to l>e nttribiitetl tlie singular purity and elegance of style to wliicli he attninod, antl wlii<;li set Iiiin on a level, in that particular, uitli the most classical of his English contemporaries. His father, intending him for the profession of the law, he was, at the age of 21 years, sent over into France to prosecute that study. At Boiirges, therefore, lie applied himself to the civil law under some of the most eminent professors of the age, with diligence and applause ; and it is probable, had a serious in- tention of devoting liis after life to that laborious profession. In the year KilO, his father, Sir John, died, and our author returned to his native country, after an absence from it of four years. To his other learning and ac(;omplisIi- ments, which there is every reason to suppose were extensive and varied beyond those of most young men of his age in Scotland, he had now added tlie recjui- sites necessary to begin his course in an active professional life. That he was well fitted for this course of life, is not left to mere conjecture. The learned president Lockhart is known to have declared of him, " that had he followed the practice of the law, he would have made the best figure of any lawyer in his time." The various political papers, which he has left behind him, written, some of them, upon those difficult topics which agitated king and people, during the disturbed period in which he lived, attest the same tact ; as displaying, along with the eloquence which was peculiar to their author, the more forensic qualities of a perspicuous ai-rangement, and a judicious, clear, and masterly management of his argument. It was to the surprise of those who knew him that our author turned aside from the course, which, though laborious, lay so invitingly open to his approach ; and preferred to the atlainment of riches and honour, the quiet ease and ob- scurity of a country gentleman's life. He was naturally of a melancholy tem- perament ; and it is probable, that like many others, who owe such to an over delicate and refined turn of sentiment, he allowed some vague disgust to in- fluence him in his decision. His father's death, at the same time, leaving him in easy independency, he had no longer any obstruction to following the bent of his inclination. That decidedly led him to indulge in the luxury of a liter- ary life, certainly the most dignified of all indolencies, when it can be associated with ease and competence. He had a strong desire for retirement, even at this early period of his life, and now, having relinquished all thoughts of appearing in jjublic, he would leave also even the bustle and noise of the world. No poet in this state of mind, perlinps, ever enjoyed the possession of a re- treat more favoured by nature than is that of Hawthornden — so well fitted to the realization of a poet's vision of earthly bliss. The place has been long known to every lover of the pi(;turesque, and, associated as it has become, wilii (ho poetry and life of its ancient and distinguished possessor, is now a classical spot. Upwards of a hundred years ago, it is pleasing to be made aware that this feeling was not new. The learned and critical Ruddiman, at no time given to be poetical, has yet described Hawthornden as being " a sweet and solitary seat, and very fit and proper for tlie muses.'''' It was here (hat our author passed many of the years of his early life, devoted in a great measure to literary and philosophical study, and the cultivation of poetry. We cannot now mark wi(h any degi-ee of precision, (he order of his compositions at this period. 'I he first, and only collection published in his lifetime, containing the " Flowers of Sion," with several other poems, and " A Cypress Grove," appeared in Fdin- burgli in the year 16 IG ; and to this publication, limited as it is, we must as- cribe in great part, (he li(erary fame which the author himself enjoyed among his contemporaries. Of the poems we shall speak aftern-ards ; but (he philosophical discourse 142 WILLIAM UKUiJxMOND. ^^llicIl acconiiwnies them, it may be as well to notice in the present place. " A Cypress Gi-ove " was uiitteii alier the autiior's recovery from a severe ilhiess ; ami the siibje<;t, siijrgested we are tohl, by the train of his reflections on a bed of sickness, is Death. We have often admired the sj)lendid passages of Jeremy Taylor on this sid)limest of ail earthly topics, and it is if anything but a more decided praise of these to say, that Drunnnond at least rivalled them. '1 he style is exalted, and classical as tint of the distinguished churchman we have named ; the conception, expression, and imagery, scarcely inferior in sublinn'ty and beauty. 'I'hat laboured display of learning, a fault peculiar to the literary men of their day, attaches in a great measure to both. In this particular, however, Drunnnond has certainly bt-en more than usually judicious. We could well wish to see this work of our author, in preference to all his others, more popularly known. It is decidedly of a higher cast than his other prose pieces ; and the reading of it, Avould tend, better than any connuent, to make these others relish- ed, and their spirit appreciated. Not long after the publication of his volume, we find Drumniond on terms of familiar correspondence with several of the great men of his day. It would be impossible, considei'ing our materials, to be so full on this head as we could have ^vished. The information can only be gathered from the correspondence \\hich has been published in his works; and the very great imperfection of that, as regards the few individuals which it embraces, plainly indicates that other, and perhaps, great names have been omitted, and that much that may have been curious or important, is lost. Among the names which remain re- corded, the pi'incipal are Ben Jonson, Michael Drayton, Sir Robert Kerr, after- wards earl of Ancrum, Dr Arthui- Johnston, and Sir William Alexander, after- wards earl of Stirling. For the last mentioned of these, our author seems to have entertained the most perfect esteem and friendship. Alexander was a courtier, rather than a poet, though a man not the less capable of free and generous feelings. Had king James VI. not been a poet, it is to be doubted if Sir William would have had so much devotion to the divine art. His assumed passion for poetry, how- ever, led him to cultivate the society of his ingenious contemporaries, by \\honi he is mentioned with respect, as much, we may believe, on account of the real excellence of the man, as of the poet. His poems, indeed, though those of an amateur, and now read only by tlie curious, are some of them, far from being deficient in poetical merit. His correspondence with our author, which extends through many years, is of little interest, referring almost entirely to the trans- mission of poetical pieces, and to points of minor criticism. 3Iichael Drayton, in an elogy on the English poets, takes occasion to speak of Drunnnond with nmch distinction. In the letters of this pleasing and once popular poet, there is a frank openness of manner, which forms a refreshing contrast to the still' form and stiti'er compliment of the greater part of the ' fami- liar epistles,' as they are termed, which passed between the literary men of that period, not excepting many of those in the correspondence of the poet of liaw- thornden — "My dear noble Drunnnond," says he, in one of them, " your let- ters were as welcome to me, as if they had come from my mistress, which I liiink is one of the fairest and worthiest living. Little did you thiids how ofl that noble friend of yours. Sir W illiam Alexander, and 1, have remembered you, before we trallicked in friendship. Love me as much as you can, and so I will you: 1 can never hear of you too oft, and I will ever mention you with much respect of your deserved worth, &c." — '* 1 thank you, my dear sweet Drummond, for your good opinion of ' I'oly-Olbyon :' I have done twelve books more; that is, from the eigliteenth book, which was Kent, WILLIAM DUUMMOND. US (if you note it) all the east parts, and north to the river Tweed ; but it lyeth by •ne, for the booksellei-s and I am in ter;us : they are a company of base knaves, whom I both scorn and kick at," &:c. One other passage we shall quote, wliich, thougli euphuistic, has yet as much affection as conceit in it : — " I am oft thinking wiiether this long silence proceeds from you or me, whether [which] I know not ; but I would liave you take it upon you, and excuse me ; and then I would have you lay it upon me, and excuse yourself: but if you will (if you think it oiu- faults, as I do) let us divide, and both, as we may, amend it. 3Iy long being in the country this summer, from whence I had no means to send my letter, shall pai'tly speak for me ; for, believe me, wortliy William, I am more than a fortnight's frierid ; where I love, I love for years, which I hope you shall lind, &:c." Only two of Druunnond's letters in return to this excellent poet and agree- able friend have been preserved. We sliall make a brief extract from one of them, as it seems to refer to the commencement of their friendship, and to be in answer to that we have first quoted of Drayton : — " I must love tliis year of my life (IGIS) more dearly than any that forewent it, because in it I was so liappy as to be acquainted with such worth. Whatever were 3Ir Davis' other designs, methinks some secret prudence directed him to those parts only : for this, I will in love of you surpass as far your countrymen, as you go beyond them in all true worth ; and shall strive to be second to none, save your fair and worthy mistress." John Davis had, it would seem, in a visit to Scotland, become acquainted with Drummond, and on his return to London did not fail to manifest the respect and admiration our poet had inspired him with. Drayton communicates as much to his friend in the following brief postscript to one of his letters: — " Jolm Davis is in love with you." He could not have used fewer words. Sir Robert Kerr was, like Sir William Alexander, a courtier and a poet, though unlike him he never came to be distinguished as an author. He is best kno^Mi to posterity for the singular feat which he perfoi-raed, by killing in a duel the " giant," Charles 3Iaxwell, who had, with great arrogance and insult, provoked him to the combat There is a letter from our poet to Sir Robert, on this occasion, in which philosophically, and with much kindness, he thus re- prehends his friend's rashness and temerity : — " It was too much hazarded in a point of honour. Wliy should true valour have answei'ed fierce barbarity; nobleness, arrogancy ; religion, impiety; innocence, malice; — the disparage- ment being so vast ? And had ye tlien to venture to the h;;zard of a combat, the exemplar of virtue, and the muses' sanctuary ? The lives cf twenty such as his who hath fallen, in honour's balance would not counterpoise your one. Ye are too good for these times, in which, as in a time of plague, men must once be sick, and tliat deadly, ere they can be assui'ed of any safety. Would I could persuade you in your sweet walks at home to take the prospect of court-ship- wrecks." There is another letter of Di-ummond's to this gentleman which we need not here notice, but rather pass to the one, for there is only one preserved, fi'om the pen of Sir Robert, cOs it tends some little to explain the footing in which he stood related to our poet. This, which is dated from " Cambridge, where the court was the week past, about the making of the French match, 16th Dec. 1624," (about four years after the date of that above quoted,) — sets oil' in the following strain : — " Every wretched creature knows the way to that place where it is most made of, and so do my verses to you, that was so kind to the last, that every thought 1 think that way hastes to be at you : it is true I get leisuie to think few, not that they ai'e cara because rara, but indeed to declare. 144 WILLIAM DRUMMOND. tliat my employment and ingine concur to make them, like Jacob's days, few and evil." — " 'ilie best is, I care as little for them as their fame ; yet if you do not mislike iIiliu, it is warrant enough lor me to let them live till they get your doom. In this sonnet 1 have sent you an approbation of your own life, whose character, howsoever I have mist, I have let you see how I love it, and would fain praise it, and, indeed, fainer practice it." 'Ihe poem thus diffidently in- troduced, has had a more fortunate fate than was probably <;onlempiated for it by its author. It is entilled " A Sonnet in praise of a Solitary Life ;" and we are gratuitously informed at the end, that " the date of this starved rhyme, and the place, was the very bed-chamber where I could not sleep." Sir Robert Kerr was indeed, a character for whom Driunmond might well entertain a high respect. In tlie remarkable adventure above alluded to, and for which he be- came very famous, he was not only acquitted of all blame by his own friends, but even lord 3Iaxwell, the brother of the gentleman killed, generously pro- tested that they should never quarrel with, nor dislike him on that account. There is only one letter recorded of Drummond to mark that an intimacy had existed between him and his countryman the celebrated Artliur Johnston, the Latin poet. It is rather a short essay, on the subject of poetry, indeed, tlian a letter, written, says he, '.' not to give you any instruction, but to manifest mine obedience to your request." We shall quote a passage or two from this piece, not so much on account of any general excellence, as to show that Drum- mond, thougli he tolerated, and in some few instances adopted them, well un- derstood the errors of the Engiisli poets of his time, and that he properly ap- j)reciated the purer taste displayed in tiie earlier models : — " It is more praise- \vorthy," thus it begins, " in noble and excellent things to know something, tiiough little, than in mean and ignoble matters to have a perfect knowledge. Amongst all those rare ornaments of the mind of man, poesy hath had a most eminent place, and been in high esteem, not only at one time, and in one climate, but during all limes, and tlirough ail those parts of the Avorld, where any ray of humanity and civility hath shined : so that she hath not unworthily deserved the name of the mistress of human life, the height of eloquence, tiie quintessence of knowledge, the loud trumpet of fame, the language of the gods. There is not anything endureth longer : Homer's Troy hath outlived many re- publics, and botli tiie Roman and (jrecian monarchies: she subsisteth by her- self; and after one demeanour and continuance, her beauty appeareth to all ages. In vain have some men of late (transformers of every thing) consulted upon her reformation, and endeavoured to abstract her to metapliy.tical ideas and scfiolastical quiddities, denuding her of her own habits, and those orna- ments ^vith wiiich she hath anuised the world some thousand years," We might well quote more, or indeed the whole of it, for the essay, if it may be called such, is very short ; but we must make this serve. It naturally occui-s to notice how nmch the »;lassi<;al taste of Johnston must have harmonized \vith that of his contemporary, — and how in the junction of two such minds nmch nuitual benefit nujst have been communicated. In that language wliich became him as his own, Johnston has written a few connnendatory verses on his friend, which, in the fashion of the time have been regularly prefixed to the collections of Drummond's poems. The most remarkable incident which has descended to us, connected with the literary life of our poet, was the visit with which the well-known English dramatist, Ren Jonsoii, honoured him, in the winter of 1()18-1!). Upon this, therefore, we would desire to l>e somewhat particular, and the materials we have for being so, are not so barren as those which refer to other passages. Ben Jonson was a man of much decision, or what, on some occasions, might no doubt be termed WILLIAM DRUMMOND. U5 obstinacy, of purpose ; and to iiiiflertilce a journey on foot of several hundred miles, into a strange country, and at an unfavourable season of the year, to visit a brother poet, whose fame had reached his ears, was characteristic in every way of his constitutional resoluteness, and of that sort of practical sincerity tviiich actuated his conduct indiderently cither to friendship or enmity. We mean no disparagement by these last words, to the character of a man acknow- ledgedly great, as every one will allow 13cn Jonson's to have been ; but merely allude to a trait in that (character, fully marked in the individual, and Avhich he himself never attempted to disguise. His drinking out the full cup of wine at the communion table, in token of his reconciliation with the church of England, and sincere renunciation of popery, is an anecdote in point ; and we need only hint at the animosities, one of them fatal, into which, in an opposite way, the same zealousness of spirit hurried him. There is much occasion to mark this humour throughout the whole substance of the conversations which passed be- tween Drummond and his remarkable visitor. The curious document which contains these, is in itself but a rough draught, written by Drummond when the matters contained in it were fresh in his recol- lection, and intended merely, it would seem, as a sort of memorandum for his own use. That its author never intended it should become public is evident, not only from the imperfect and desultory manner in which it is put together, but from the unsophisticated and unguarded fi-eedom of its personal reflections. There is every proof that though it unhappily treats with much and almost unpal- liated severity the character and foibles of the English poet, the truth is not, so far as it goes, violated. It is not kindly, nor can it be said to be hostilely written. Inhospitably, we cannot allow it to be, as it certainly never was intended to prove offensive to the feelings of the person whom it describes, or his admirers. Several of the incidents of Ben Jonson's life, as they wei'e communicated by him to Drummond have been given. These we have not occasion to notice ; but we cannot pass over, as equally out of place, some of the ojiinions enter- tained by that remarkable man of his literary contemporaries. They are for the most part sweeping censures, containing some truth, but oftener much illi- berality ; pointed, and on one or two occasions coarse, — Jonson being at all times rather given to lose a friend than a jest. Spensei*'s stanzas we are told, " pleased him not, nor his matter." — '* Samuel Daniel was a good honest man, had no children, and was no poet ; that he had wrote the ' Civil Wars,' and yet hath not one battle in his whole book." Michael Drayton, " if he had per- formed what he promised in his Polyolbion, (to write the deeds of all the worthies,) had been excellent." — " Sir John Harrington's Ariosto, of all transLi- tions was the worst. Tliat when Sir John desired him to tell the truth of his epigrams; he answered him, that he loved not the truth, for they were narra- tions, not epigrams." — " Donne, for not being understood, would perish. He esteemed him the first poet in the world for some things ; his vei-ses of Ohadine he had by heai-t, and that passage of the Calm, that du-tt ajid feathers did not stir, all was so quiet.'''' He told Donne that his "■Anniversary was profane and full of blasphemies ; that if it had been written on the Virgin 3Iary it had been tolerable." To which Donne answered, " that he described the idea of a woman, and not as she was." — "Owen was a poor pedantic schoolmaster, sweeping his living from the posteriors of little children, and has nothing good in him, his epigrams being bare nairations."-^" Sir Waller Kaleigh esteemed more fame than conscience : the best wits in England were employed in making his his- tory. He himself had written a piece to him of the Punic war, which he alter- ed and set in his book." — " Francis Beaumont was a good poet, as were Fletcher and Chapman whom he loved." — " He fought several times with IMars- 146 •WILLIAM DRUMMOND. ton. Marston urote his father-in-law's preachings, and his father-in-law his comedies, &c." The most singular of .all, to the modern reader, is what tnl- lows regarding Shakespeare, who is introduced with fully as little respect as is shown to any of the others mentioned ; — He said. " Shakespeare wanted art and sometimes sense ; for in one of his plays, he brought a number of nien^ saying they had suffered shipwreck in Bohemia, Avhere is no sea, near by one hundre " No onp,"says a correspondent, "can read thecelebrated Heads of Conversationh&i\ye^tn nrummoiid and Hen Jonson, without regretting that the former h;id not a spice more of Boswell in him, so as to Jiave preserved not only liis visitor's share of the dialogue, but his own also. As it is, we have a meagre outline of Jonson's opinions, with no intermixture of nrummond's replies. Whjit an interest inj; discdnise on tin; extravagant freaks of imagina- tion may we suppose to liave acconipiuiird .limson's slatenient 'that he had spent a whole niglit l)ing looking to liis great toe, about wliicli he hatli seen Tartars and Turks, Romans WILLIAM DRUMMOND. 147 We now come to a circitiustauce in the life of our poet wliidi was destined, in its consequences, to interrupt the quiet course in uhich liis existence had liitlierto tiowed, and to exercise over his mind and future happiness a deep and lasting- indueuce. This was the attachment uhicli he formed for a young and aurl Carthaginians, fight in liis imagination!' Yet it is presented to us in an isolated para- graph, as it" the two bards luid spent a whole evening together, and that was the only thing that passed between them. Again, we have Jonson making the sUn-tling declaration, ' that he wrote all his verees first in prose, as his master Camden tiiught him,' and adding, ' that verses stood by sense, without eithei- colours or accent ;' and we may be sure these animncia- tions did not fall upon the e;ir of Drummond like the sound of a clock striking the hour oi midnight: but he ti'lls us nothing to the contrary. Lastly', we know that Drummond had weighed well the subject of astriilugy, and arrived at very rational conclusions concerning the predictions pretended to be derived from it, — namely, that they were aimed ' by the siigacity of the astrologer at the blockislmess of the consulter;' we might therefore have expected from him something pertinent in relation to other occult matters: but no; lie gives without a word of comment the following story : ' when the king c;ime to England, about the time the plague w;;s in London, he (Ben Jonson) being in the country at Sir Jiobert Cotton's house, with old Camden, he saw in a vision his eldest son, then a young child, and at London, ap- pear unto him, with the mark of a bloody cross on its foreheiid, ;is if it had been cut with a sword; at which amazed, he prayed to God, and in the morning came to Mr Camden's chamber to tell liim; who persuaded him it was but an apprehension at which he should not be dejected. In the naeantime there come letters from his wife of the death of that boy in the plague. He appeared to him, he said, of a manly shape, and of that growth he shall be at the resurrection.' Whether Drummond suspected that Ben exercised his invention upon this occasion cannot be discovered ; but such is the solution which he applies, in his History of Ike Five Jameses, to two similar tales current regarding James V. : ' both seem,' he says, ' to liave been forged b)- the men of those times, and may challenge a place in the poetical part of history.' But though thus provokingly silent concerning his own views of the greater number of the subjects touched upon by his friend, some of the doctrines of the latter seemed to Hawthornden too prepostei'ous to be recorded without some mark of disapprobation. It is amusing to tind him expressing his displeasure at the innovation which Jonson did not scruple to make upon the classiad model for the composition of pastorals. ' He bringeth in clowns,' sa3S Drummond, ' making mirth and foolish sports, coiUrary to all other jiastorals /' The decorous Scotsman would no doubt have had him to continue to show oil" the slili' swaiu of antiquit}-, constructed with his pipe in the accustomed mould, — thus precluding the poet not oid> from the imiUition of nature, but even from displaying any ingenuity of art in the contrivance of new characters, just as if we should insist that the sculptor's skill ought not hereafter to aim at an) tiling be} ond multiplying copies of certain groups of figures which the world may for the time have agi-eed to call classical. " Jonson 's unbridled exuberance of fancy, bordering occasionally upon irreverence, a[>- pears to have been a flight beyond what wijs calculated to please the pure mind of the retired and philosophic Drummond ; and liis friend's visit probably opened to him a view of the jealousies of the poetical tribe, when assembled in one place, and all struggling for pre-emi- nence, which made him still more content with his own seclusion. The frankness with which Jonson criticised the verses of Drummond, — telling him ' that they were all good, especially his epitaph on prince Henry, save that they smelled too much of the schools, and were not after tlie fancj' of the times,— for that a child might write after the fashion of the Greek and Latin verees in running,' — may liave piqued the author a little ; and Ben's bois- terous and jovial character may also have been oflensive to the sedate and contemplative soli- tary of Hawthornden. It is farther to be remembered, that Drummond employed a severity in judging, the edge of which, a little more intercourse with the world might have blunted. But w^ith all these allowances, the character he has drawn of his visitor is probably very little if at all overcharged. ' Ben Jonson,' says he, ' was a great lover and praiser of himself, a contemner and scomer of others, given rather to lose a friend than a jest; jealous of every word and action of those about him, especially after drink, which is one of the elements in which he lived ; a dissembler of the great parts which reign in him ; a bragger of some good that he wanted ; thinketh notliing well done but what either he himself or some of his friends hath said or done; he is passionately kind and angry, aneless either to gain or keep; vindictive, but, if he be well answered, at himself; interprets best s;iyings ;uid deeds often to to the worst. He was for any religion, as being versed in both; oppressed with fancy, which hath overmastered his reason, — a general disease in many poets. His inventions are smooth and easy ; but above all he excelleth in a tr:uislation. When his play of The Silent Ifoinaii was first acted, there were found veises after on the stage against liim ; concluding that that play was well named IVie Silent Woman, because there was never one man to siiy Plaudit e to it. " Drummond has been much blamed by some for leaving behind him these notes of the convei-Siition, and remarks on the character, of 'his worthy friend ]\Iaster Benjamin Jon- bun;' as if all the while tluit he entertained his guests, he had been upon the watch for mat- 148 WILLIAM DRUMMOND. beautiful l.idy, d.iuohter to Cunnino^hame of l^arncs, an anrient an<1 honoqraMe taniily. His atFt'ctioii was returnetl by his mistress; the iiiarri;i«ie tby appoint- ed, and preparations in pronress for the happy solemnization, wlien the youn^ lady was seized suddenly witli a fever, of which slie died. His grief on this event he has expressed in many of tliose sonnets, whicli have given to him the liile ol this country's I'etrarch ; and it has well been said, that with more pas- sion and sincerity he celebrated his dead mistress, tlian otiiers use to praise their living' ones. The melancholy temperament of Drummond, we have before said, was one reason of his secluding liimself from the \vorld, and tiie ease antl relief of mind wliich he sougiit, he had probably found, in his mode of life ; but the rude shock which he now received rendered solitude irksome and baneful to him. To divert the train of his reflections, he resolved once more to go abroad, and in time, distance, and novelty, lose recollection of the happiness which had de- luded him in his own country. He spent eigiit years in prosecution of this design, during which he travelled through the whole of Germany, France, and Italy ; Rome and Paris being the two places in which he principally resided. He was at pains in cultivating the society of learned foreignei-s; and bestowed some attention in forming a collection of tiie best ancient (jreck and Latin ter which might aftcnvanls be reported to his projiichVe. nrummond was no doubt entirely iiiriocxnt of an\ such treacherous design; but being cut oti' from intercouree witli men of genius, and yet having a great liking to sucli societ)', the opportunity of hearing, from tiie nioutli of one of the most eminent wit.s of his time, a rapid sl^etch of whatever \v;is interest- ing in the literary world, seemed too high an advantage not to be improved to the utmost ; and Drummond wrote down notes of what passed, that he might recui to them when he could no longer enjoy the conversation of his visitor. If there happen to be some things which Jonson's biographers could wish had not been recorded against him, we ciinnot join them in tlieir rtgret. It is cert;iinly a pity that great men are not immiiculate •, but it is no {iits that such faults as they are chargeable with are made known. If we were to choose, we wiiidd have the courses most frequented by our ships all clear of rocks and stmds ; but not being able to get things to our mind in this respect, the only resource is to mark them uut as faithfully and conspicuously as possible, that those who sail the same wa\ in future, may know to keep char of these dangerous places. We trust the time is now nearly past for the biographer iliiidving it his dut\ to preserve an unvarying wliiteness in the character he un- dei udies to draw. Cromwell's injiniction to his painter ought to serve as a canon to all histo- rians and writers of memoirs: ' 1 desire, Mr Lei} ,' sersons of distinguished rank and intimate with othei's. Congeniality, however, of mind and pursuits, alone led him to cultivate the society of men of exalted station ; and, such is the nature of human excellence and dignity, the poet and man of literature, in this case, conferred lustre upon the peer and the favourite of a court. He was not a courtier, and he was, as he has himself expressed it, even " careless and negligent about fame and reputation." His philosophy was practical, not assumed ; and we cannot fail to be impressed with its pure and noble spirit in the tenor of his life, no less than in the tone of many of his Mritings. H's natural disposition certainly bordered upon the gi'ave and contemplative ; but it was free from the reproach of morbid sentimentality or sourness of mind. " Contrary to this," sjiys his old biographer, whom on such points there is satis- faction in quoting, " his humour A\as very jovial and cheerful among his friends and comrades, witli whom he sometimes took a bottle, only ad Jdlaritatem, ac- cording to the example of the best ancient and modern poets, for the raising his spirits, which were much flagged with constant reading and meditating ; but he never went to excess, or conuuitted anything against the rules of religion and good manners. He was very smart and witty in his sayings and repartees, and had a most excellent tale:it in extemporary versifying, above the most part WILLIAM DRUMMOND. 153 of his contemporaries." Tlie instances given of our author's pleasantry in this way are any thing but well chosen, and their authenticity may be questioned. We may continue the quotation, and present the following, not certainly for its merit, but for the pleasure of the association which it gives rise to, and as the only remaining trait whicli a scanty biography has left us to notice. " Being at London, it is very creditably reported of him (though by some ascribed to others) that he peeped into the room where Sir William Alexander, Sir Kobert KeiT, iMichael Drayton, and Ben .Tonson, these famous poets, were sitting. They desired Bo-peep, as they called him, to come in, which he did. They fell a rhyming about paying the reckoning ; and all owned their verses were not comparable to his, wliich are still remembered by the curious : — ' I, Bo-peep, See }ou four shoep, And each of you his fleece. The reckoning is five shi)h")ig ; If each of you be wiling It's fifteen pence a piece.' '' We have already alluded to several of Drummond's productions, — his " Cy- press Grove," his history, and his " Irena," — and must now briefly refer to those on which his fame as a poet is founded. Tliey consist principally of son- nets of an amatory and i-eligious cast ; a poem of some length entitled " The river of Forth feasting ;" and " Tears on the death of Mceliades," anagranimat- ically Miles a Deo, the name assumed in challenges of martial sport by Henry prince of Wales, eldest son of king James VI, This last piece was written so early as 1G12. As a panegjric it is turgid and overcharged ; but it has been refen'ed to by more than one critic as displaying much beauty of versification. The sonnet, about this time introduced into our literature, must be supposed to owe somewhat of the favour it i-eceived to the elegant and discriminating taste of Drummond. He had a perfect knowledge of Italian poetry, and pro- fessed much admiration for that of Peti'arch, to v\hom he more nearly approaches in his beauties and his faults, than we believe any other English writer of son- nets. This, however, refers more particularly to his early muse, to those pieces AVTitten before his own better taste had dared use an unshackled freedom. We shaU give two specimens, which we think altogether excellent, of ^vhat we con- sider Drummond's matui-ed style in this composition. The first is one of six sonnets entitled " Urania, or Spiritual Poems ;" and the second (already tran- siently alluded to) is a sonnet addressed by the poet to his lute. The first, per- haps, refers to Mhat Drummond considered the political unhappiness or degrada- tion of his country ; though, in truth, it may be made answerable to the state of humanity at all times ; the second, to the well known catastrophe of his first love, and accordingly it has its place among the sonnets professedly written on that topic. I. What hapless hap had I for to be boni In these unhappy times, and dying days Of Uiis now doting world, when good decays;— Love's quite extinct and Virtue's held a scorn ! When such are only priz'd, by wretched ways, Who with a golden fleece can them adom ; When avarice and lust are counted praise, And bravest minds live orphan-like forlorn ! 154 SIR WILLIAM DRUMJIOND. Why was not I bom in tliat golden age, Wlien gold \r.\s not yet know-n? and those black art? By which Ixtse worldlings vilely play their parts, With horrid acts staining earth's state)) stage ? To liave been then, O Heaven, 't liad been my bliss, But bless me now, and take me soon from this. II. My lute, be as thou wert when thou did grow AVith thy green mother in some shady grove, Wlien immelodious winds but made thee move, And biids their ramage did on thee bestow. Since that dear voice which did thy soimds approve. Which wont in such harmonious strains to flow, Is reft from earth to tune the spheres above, W'hat art thou but a harbinger of woe ? Thy pleasing notes be pleasing notes no more. But orphan's waitings to their fainting ear, Each stroke a sigh, each sound draws forth a tear. For which be silent as in woods before : Or if that any hajid to touch thee deign. Like widowed turtle still Iter loss complain. The " Forth Feasting " is a poem of some ingenuity in its contrivance, de- signed to compliment king James VI., on the visit with wliich that monarch favoured his native land in 1617. Of the many effusions which that joyous event called forth, this, we believe, has alone kept its ground in public estima tion ; and, indeed, as a pei-formance professedly panegp-ical, and possessing little adventitious claim from the merit of its object, it is no ordinary praise to say that it has done so. It attracted, lord Woodhouselee has remarked " the envy as well as the pi-aise of Ben Jonson, is superior in harmonv of numbers to any of the compositions of the contemporary poets of England, and in its subject one of the most elegant panegyrics ever addressed by a poet to a prince." DRUMMOND, Sir W^illiam, a distinguished scholar and philosopher. The date of his birth seems not to be ascertained, nor does any memoir of which we are aware, describe his early education. He became first slightly known to the world in 1794, from publishing " A Review of the Government of Sparta and Athens." It was probably a juvenile performance, which would not have been recollected but for the later fame of its author, and it is not now to be met with in libraries. In 1795, he was elected representative of the borough of St Mawes; and in 1796 and 1801, he was chosen for the town of Lostwithiek In the meantime he was af)pointed envoy extraordinary to the court of Naples, an office previously filled by a countryman celebrated for pursuits not dissimilar to some of bis own — Sir William Hamilton ; and he was soon afterwards ambassador to the Ottoman Porte. Of his achievements as an ambassador little is known or remembered, excepting perhaps an alleged attempt, in 1808, to secure the regency of Spain to prince Leopold of Sicily. Nor as a senator does he appear to have acquired much higher distinction ; from being a regular and zealously -labouring political partisan, his studious habits and re- tired unbending disposition prevented him, but such political labours as he undertook Avere on the side of the government. In 1798, he publishetJ a translation of the Satires of Perseus, a work, which, especially In fidelity, has been held to rival the contemporaneous attempts of Gifford, and it established him in the unquestioned reputation of a classical scholar. In 1805, appeared his Academical Questions, the first work in which he put forward claims to be esteemed a metaphysician. Although in this work he talks of the dignity of SIR WILLIAM DRUiMMOND. 155 philosopliy with no little eiithiisiasiu, and gives it a preference to other subjects, more distinct than many may now admit ; yet his work has certainly done more for the demolition of other systems than for instruction in any he has him- self propounded. He perhaps carried the sceptical philosophy of Hume a little beyond its first bounds, by showing that we cannot comprehend the idea of simple substance, because, let the ditlerent qualities which, arranged in our mind, give us the idea of what we call an existing substance, be one by one taken away, — when the last is taken nothing at all will remain. To his doctrine that the mind was a unity, and did not contain separate powers and faculties, Locke's demolition of innate ideas must have led the ^vay ; but that great philosopher has not himself been spared from Sir William's undermining analysis, uith which he attempted indeed to destroy the foundations of most existing systems. The Edinburgh Review, in a pretty extensive examination of the book, says, " We do not know very well what to say of this learned publication. To some readers it will probably be enough to announce, that it is occupied with metaphysical speculations. To others, it may convey a more precise idea of its character, to be told, that though it gave a violent headache in less than an hour, to the most intrepid logician of our fraternity, he could not help reading on till he came to the end of the volume. " The book is written we tiiink with more rhetorical ornament, and enlivened wiih more various literature, than is usual in similar discussions ; but it is not, on this account, less 'hard to be spelled ;' and after perusing it with considerable attention, we are by no means absolutely certain that we have apprehended the true scope and design of the author, or attained to a just perception of the system or method by which he has been directed. The sub- jects of his investigations are so various, his criticisms so unsparing, and his con- clusions so hostile to every species of dogmatism, that we have sometimes been tempted to think, that he had no other view in this publication than to expose the weakness of liunian understanding, and to mortify the pride of philosophy, by a collection of insolvable cases, and undeterminable problems. It is but fair to recollect, however, that Mr Drummond has avowedly reserved the full exposition of his own theory to a subsequent volume, [this never appeared,] and professes in this to do little more than point out the insuf- ficiency and contradictions that may be fairly imputed to those of preceding philosophers. It is only the task of demolition which he proposes now to ac- complish ; and it must be owned, that he has spread abroad his rubbish, and scattered abroad his dust, in a very alarming manner." In 1810, Sir William, along with IMr Robert Walpole, published " Hercu- lanensia," containing archaeological and etymological observations, partly directed towards a MS. found in the ruins of Herculaneum. During the same year he published an " Essay on a Punic inscription found in the island of Malta." The inscription was interesting from its twice containing the name Hanni-Baal, or Hannibal ; but it seems to have been merely used by Sir Wil- liam as a nucleus round which he could weave an extensive investigation into the almost unknown and undiscoverable language of the Carthaginians. He proposed two methods of analytically acquiring some knowledge of this obscure subject ; first, through the Phoenician and Punic vocables scattered through the works of (ireek and Roman authors, and second, through the dialects cognate to the Phoenician, viz., the Arabic or ancient Syriac, the Samaritan, the Ethio- pian, the fragments of Egyptian to be found in the modern Coptic, and the Hebrew. In iSll, he printed the most remarkable of all his works, the " (Edipus Judaicus." It Avas not published and probably had it been so, it would have 156 SIR WILLIAM DRUMMOND. brought on the author, who did not entirely escape criticism by his conceal- ment, a torrent of censure which might have rendered life uncomfortable. It was Sir William Drumraond's object to take the parts of the Old Testament commonly commented on by divines as purely historical, and prove tlieiu to be allegories. Perhaps the following extract contains a greater portion of the meaning which the author had in view, than any other of similar brevity : " When we consider the general prevalence of Tsabaism among the neighbour- ing nations, we sliall wonder less at the proneness of the Hebrews to fall into this species of idolatry. Neither shall we be surprised at the anxious efforts of their lawgiver to persuade and convince them of the vanity of the super- stitions, when we recollect, that, though he could command the elements, and give new laws to nature, he could not impose fetters on the free will of others. \Vith such a power as this he was by no means invested ; for the Almighty, in offering to the Hebrews the clearest proofs of his existence, by no means constrained their belief. It cannot be doubted, that by any act of power, God might have coerced submission, and have commanded conviction ; but had there been no choice, there could have been no merit in the acceptance of his law. " Since then Jehovali did not compel the people to acknowledge his existence, by fettering their fi-ee will, it was natural for his servant Mioses to represent, by types and by symbols, the errors of the Gentile nations ; and it is in no manner surprising, that the past, the existing, and the future situation of the Hebrews, as well as the religious, moral, and political state of theii neighbours, should be alluded to in symbolical language by aa historian, who was also a teacher and a prophet. " Above all things, however, it is evident, that the establishment of the true religion was the great object of the divine legation of 3Ioses. To attain this purpose, it was not enough that he performed the most surprising miracles. His countrymen acknowledged the existence of Jehovah ; but with hira they reckoned, and were but too willing to adore other gcds. Is it then surprising, that ilie false notions of religion entertained by the Gentiles should be pointed out in the writings of 3Ioses, and that their religious systems should be there made to appear what they really are — the astronomical systems of scientific idolaters?" To institute a critical investigation of the points discussed in such a book as the (Edipus, would require more learned investigation than is ex- pected to be met with in a casual memoir. But with deference, we believe, a mere ordinary reader may take it on him to say, that Sir William has run riot on the dangerous and enticing ground of philology. It will be difficult to convince ordinary minds that the book of Joshua allegorically represents the reform of the calendar, or that the name Joshua is a type of the sun in the sign of the Ram; and when he finds the twelve labours of Hercules, and the twelve tribes of Israel identified with the twelve signs of the zodiac, one feels regret that he did not improve the analogy by the addition of the twelve Caesars. It was with some truth that D'Oyly, in his " Remarks on Sir William Drummond's CEdipus Judai<:us," thus characterized the species of philoloo^y in which Sir William indulged: " It is in the nature of things impossible to dis- prove any proposed method of deducing the etymology of a word, however absurd, fancitul, and strained it may appear to every considerate mind. We may give reasons for rejecting it as highly improbable, and for receiving another, perhaps as drawn from a far more obvious source ; but this is all that we can do ; if any person should persevere in maintaining that his own is the best derivation, the question must be left to the judgment of others: it is im- possible to prove that he is wrong. In some old monkish histories, the word Britain is derived from Brutus, a supposed descendant of .Tineas : now, we may DK. JOHN DilYSDALE. 157 produce reasous without end for disbelieving any connexion to have subsisted between 15ritain and a person named Urutus ; and for either acquiescing in our inability to derive the word at all, or for greatly preferring some other mode of deriving it ; but ^ve can do no more ; we cannot confute the person who maintains that it certainly is derived from Brutus, and that every other mode of deriving it is comparatively forced and improijable. Precisely in the same manner, when our autiior affiinis tiiat the word " Amorites " is derived from a Hebrew word signifying a ram, the astronomical sign of Aries; that Balaam comes from a word signifying " to swallow," with allusion to the celestial Dragon ; Deborah from Aldebaran, the great star in the Bull's eye, so we can- not possibly confute him, or positively /^roie that he is wrong; we can only hint that these derivations are not very obvious or probable, and refer the mat- ter to the common sense of mankind." Sir William was not likely to create friends to his views by the tone he adopted, which was occasionally (especially in the introduction) such as he should not have used till the world had acknowledged his own system, and should not have been applied to anything held in reverence. In 1818, Sir William Drumniond published the first part of a poem, entitled "Odin," which was never popular. The first of the three volumes of his " Origines, or Remarks on the Origin of several Empires, States, and Cities," appeared in 182't. Of the varied contents of this very eminent historio- critical work, we shall spare our readers any analysis, as it is well known to the reading world, preferring to refer to the article* on Sir William Drum- niond in the Encyclopedia Britannica. Towards the latter period of his life Sir William was a martyr to gout. His habits wei'e retired, and by some considered reserved. For instance, when on a visit he would seldom make his appearance after dinner, spending the afternoon in the library or study. But while he was in company his manners were bland and courteous, and his conversation was enriched by classical and elegant information. He died in the year 1828. DKYSDALE, Reverend Dr .Tohn, was born in Kirkaldy, Fifeshire, on the 29th of April, 1718, being the third son of Mr John Drysdale, minister of that parish, and of Anne, daughter of William Fex-guson, provost of the town of Kirkaldy. He received the elements of his classical education at the parish school of Kirkaldy, taught by IVIr David Young. While at school, young Drysdale was favourably distinguished : also at that early age he had the good fortune to contract a friendship (which proved lasting), with two of his school- fellows, who afterwards attained very high distinction ; one of these was the celebrated Dr Adam Smith, and the other James Oswald, Esq. of Dunnikiex- — a name well known to all those who are familiar with the history of the leading Scotsmen of the last century. In the year 1732, at the ago of fourteen, Drysdale was removed to the university of Edinburgh, where he prosecuted his studies with gTeat success, and early attracted the notice of the professors. Having gone through the preliminary branches of education, he commenced the study of divinity, which he pursued until the year 1740, when he was licensed as a preacher of the gospel by the presbytery of Kirkaldy. After having officiated as assistant-minister in the college church of Edin- burgh for several years, he obtained, through the interest of the earl of Hope- ton, a crown presentation to the church of Kirkliston in West Lothian. On entering upon the duties, he met with some opposition from his parishioners, arising from the notion that he was rather what was called a moral than an orthodox divine. He speedily acquired their esteem, however, and is said, by his unwearied benevolence and practical piety, as well as by the good sense 158 WILLIAM DUNBAR. which penaded liis discourses, to have effected a visible improvement in tlie luoi-als of his parishioners, ^vho had been formerly noted for their irregularities and vice. After a faitliful discharge of his parocliial duties at Kirkliston for fifteen years, he was, through the intercession of liis friend 3Ir Os«ald with lord Bute, appointed minister of lady Vester's, one of the churches of Edin- burgh. On liis removal to town, the nervous eloquence of his sermons attracted a great concourse of hearers to his church. And so great was his fame as a preacher, that while he was on a visit to London, Mr Strachan, the printer, pressed him much to prepare a volume of his sermons for publication. But al- though on his return to Scotland, he did begin to select and revise his sermons for that purpose, a natural diffidence induced him first to procrastinate and ultimately to relinquish the undertaking. Previous to his translation to Edinburgh, 3Ir Drysdale had taken little con- cern in the affairs of the church, but the close connection into which he was brought in town, with Dr Robertson the historian, the leader of the moderate party in the church, induced him to give that great nmn his best assistance and support. In the year 1765, Mr Drysdale, without solicitation on his part, had the de- gree of doctor of divinity conferred on him by the university of Aberdeen. The following year, on the death of Di- John Jardine, he was px-eferred to the collegiate charge of the Tron chuixh, where he had the good fortune to have for his colleague, the much esteemed and eloquent Dr Wishart. On the death of Dr Jardine, Dr Drysdale Avas also appointed one of his majesty's chaplains, with one-third of the emoluments of the deanery of the chapel royal. During the years 1773 and 1784, Dr Drysdale was moderator of the general assembly, being the highest mark of respect which the church of Scotland can confer on its members. At the meeting of the general assembly in IMay, 1788, he was appointed principal clerk to the assembly ; but being unable, from the delicacy of his health, to perfoi-m the duties, he obtained permission that his son-in-law, professor Dalzell, sliould assist him. He did not sunive long ; his health had been for a considerable time very precarious, and early in June 1788, his com- plaints acquired increased violence, and his constitution being completely worn out, he died on the IGth of June of tliat year, in the 71st year of his age. Di-jsdale was extremely pleasing in his manners and conversation, and seems to have gained the esteem and affection of his friends by the amiable benevo- lence of his heart, and the inflexible integrity of his conduct. His house was open at all times to his numerous friends and acquaintance, and was their fre- quent place of resort. To young men in particular, the cheerful and agreeable conversation which was encouraged in his society held out a peculiar charm. He had a very extensive cori-espondence with many of the first people of the day and with the clergy in general, who frequently applied to him for ad- vice. His letters were remarkable for a happy facility and elegance of ex- pression. Drysdale was married to the daugliter of William Adam, Esq., of 3Iaryburgh, architect. His only work was two volumes of sennons published after his death by Professor Dalzell. Of these the late Dr 3Ioodie who was one of the ministers of Edinburgh, says " These sermons seem admirably calculated to inspire the mind Avitli high sentiments of piety to God, trust in providence, independence of the world, admiration of virtue, steady and resolute attachment to duty, and contempt of every thing base and dishonourable." DUNBAR, William, "the darling of the Scottish Muses," as he haa been termed by Sir W'altcr Scott, was born about the middle of the fifteenth century. Mr David Laing suggests the year 14G0 as about the date of his birth. The place WILLIAM DUNBAR. 159 of his nativity is not more accurately known. In the Flyting of Dunbar and Kennedy, a series of satires which these two poets interchanged with each other, the former speaks of the " Carrick lips " of his antagonist, a bona fide allusion to the provincial vernacular of that poet, and, within three lines, he uses the adjective Lothian in the same way, respecting a part of his own person ; thereby, ap- parently, indicating that he was a native of that district. Unless Dunbar here meant only to imply his habitual residence in Lothian, and his having consequently contracted its peculiar lantjua^, he must be held as acknowledging himself a native of the province. The early events of the poet's life are unknown. In 1475, when he must have reached his fifteenth or sixteenth year, lie was sent to the university of St Andrews, then the principal seat of learning in Scotland. The name of William Dunbar is entered in the ancient registers of the university, in 1477, among the Determinantes, or Bachelors of Arts, in St Salvator's College, a degree which students could not receive till the third year of their attendance. His name again occurs in 1479, when he had taken his degree of Master of Arts, in virtue of which he was uniformly styled Maisier William Dunbar, a designation which was exclusively appropriated till a late period to persons who had taken that degree at a university. Of his subsequent history, from 1480 to 1499, no trace remains. He became an ecclesiastic at an early age, having entered the mendicant order of St Francis, which had an establishment of Grey Friars at Edinburgh. In his poem entitled. How Dunbar was desyred to be ane Frier, he gives the following intimation on this subject, as reduced to prose, by Dr Irving: — "Before the dawn of day, methought St Francis appeared to me with a religious habit in his hand, and said, ' Go, my servant, clothe thee in these vestments, and renounce the world.' But at him and his habit I was scared like a man who sees a ghost. ' And why art thou terrified at the sight of the holy weed V ' St Francis, reverence attend thee. I thank thee for the good-will which thou hast manifested towards me ; but with regard to these garments, of which thou art so liberal, it has never entered into my mind to wear them. Sweet confessor, thou needs not take it in evil part. In holy legends have I heard it alleged that bishops are more frequently canonized than friars. If, therefore, thou wouldest guide my soul towards heaven, invest me with the robes of a bishop. Had it ever been my fortune to become a friai*, the date is now long past. Between Berwick and Calais, in every flourishing town of the English dominions, have I made good cheer in the habit of thy order. In friars' weed have I ascended the pulpit at Dernton and Canterbury ; in it have I crossed the sea at Dover, and instructed the inhabitants of Picardy. But this mode of life compelled me to have recourse to many a pious fraud, from whose guUt no holy water can cleanse me.' " It is probable that he did not long continue his connection with this order, as he informs us that the studies and life of a friar were not suited to his disposition. It is no doubt to his having been a travelling noviciate of the Franciscan order that his poetical antagonist Kennedy alludes, when he taunts Dunbar with his pilgrimage as a pardoner, begging in all the churches from Ettrick Forest to Dumfries. His poems do not inform us how he was employed after relinquishing the office of a friar, nor how he became connected with the Scottish Conrt, where we find him residing, about the beginning of the sixteenth century, under the patronage of James IV. From some allusions in his writings, at a subsequent period of his life, to the countries he had visited while in the king's service, it is not improbable that he was employed as secretary, or in some kindred capacity, in connection with the embassies to foreign states which were maintained by the reigning monarch. In 1491 he was residing at Pai-is, in all likelihood in tho 160 WILLIAM DUNBAR. train of the Earl of BothwcU and Lord IVIonypenny, then on an embassy to the court of France. In the books of the treasurer of Scotland, we find that Dunbar enjoyed a pension from his sovereign. Under date May 23, 1501, occurs the following entry : — " Item, to Maister William Dunbar, in his pension of Martymes by past, 5/." Another entry occurs December 20, " quhilk was peyit to him eftir he com furth of England." If these were half-yearly payments, the pension must liave been one of ten pounds, which cannot be deemed inconsiderable, when we take into account the resources of the king, the probable necessities of the bard, and the value of money at that time. In March, 1504, he first performed mass in the king's presence. In 1507 we find that his pension was newly eiked, or augmented, to the sum of twenty pounds a-year ; and in 1510, to eighty pounds. On the marriage of James IV. to Mai'garet of England, Dunbar celebrated that event, so auspicious of the happiness of his country, in a poem entitled " The Thistle and the Rose," in which he emblematized the junction and amity of tlie two portions of Britain. In the plan of this poem, he displays, according to Dr Irving, " boldness of invention and beauty of aiTangement, and, in several of its detached parts, the utmost strength and even delicacy of colouring." Dunbar seems to have afterwards been on as good terms with the queen as he had pre- viously been with the king, for he addresses several poems in a very familial style to her majesty. In one, moreover, "on a Daunce in the Queene's chalmer," where various court personages are represented as coming in successively and exhibiting their powers of saltation, he thus introduces himself ; — " Than in cam Dunbar the Makar ;i On all the flm^ there was nane fracar, And thair he dauncet the Dirry-duntoun : He hopet, like a tiller wantoun, For luff of Musgraeffe men fulls me. He trippet quhile he tar his pantoun : A mirrear daunce micht na man see." The next person introduced was Mrs Musgrave, probably an English attendant of the queen, and, as the poet seems to have admired her, we shall give the etanza in which she is described : — " Then in cam Maestres Musgraeffe : Scho micht haff lernit all the laeffe. Quhen I saw her sa trimlye dance, Hir gud convoy and contenance, Than for hir saek I wissit to be The grytast erle, or duke, in France : A mirrear dance micht na man see." Notwithstanding the great merit of Dunbar as a poet, he seems to have lived a life of poverty, with perhaps no regular means of subsistence but his pension. He appears to have addressed both the king and the queen for a benefice, but always without success. How it came to pass that king James, who was so kind a patron to men professing powers of amusement, neglected to provide for Dunbar is not to be accounted for. The poet must have been singularly dis- qualified, indeed, to have been deemed unfit in those days for church-preferment. It appears that the queen became more disposed to be his patron than the king, for Le writes a poem in the form of a prayer, wishing that the king were John ' Writers of verses were so termed in the sixteenth century. WILLIAM DUNBAR. 161 TJwmson^s man, that is, subservient to the views of his consort, so that he might obtain what the queen desired his majesty to bestow upon him. The poor poet tells the king that his hopes were in reality very humble: " Greit abbais graith I nill to gather, Bot ane Idrh scant coverit with hadder ; For I of li/til wald he fane : Quhilk to considder is ane pane." His poetry is full of pensive meditations upon the ill division of the world's goods — liow some have too much, without meriting even little, while others merit all aiid have nothing. He says — " I knaw nocht how the kirk is gydit, Bot benefices are nocht leil divydit ; Sum men bes sevin, and 1 nocht ane: Quhilk to considder is ane pane." He also reflects much upon the vanity of all sublunary affairs. At the be- ginning, for instance, of the above poem, he thus moralizes on "the warld's instabilitie:" — " This waverand warldis wretchidnes, The failyand and fruitles bissines. The mispent tyme, the service vane. For to considder is ane pane. The slydan joy, the glaidness schort. The feinyand luif, the fals comfort, The sueit abayd, the flichtful trane, For to considder is ane pane. The sugarit mouthis, with mynds thairfra; The figurit speiche, with faces twa ; The pleasand toungis, with harts unplane. For to considder is ane pane." Next to " the Thistle and the Rose," the most considerable poem by Dunbar was " The Golden Targe," a moral allegorical piece, intended to demonstrate the general ascendency of love over reason : the golden targe, or sliield, of reason, he shows to be an insufficient protection to the shafts of Cupid. He is also supposed to be the author of an exquisitely humorous tale, entitled, "The Freirs of Berwick," wliich has supplied the ground-work of a well known poem of Allan Ramsay, designated " The Monk and the Miller's wife." Another composition, styled " The Twa Marriet Women and the Wedo," contains much humorous sentiment, and many sarcastic reflections upon the f;^ir sex ; but of all Dunbar's poems, it is most open to the charge of immodest description. The poem, however, displaying the highest powers of mind, is certainly tliat entitled " A Dance," which presents pictures of the seven deadly/ sins, equally expres- sive, perhaps, with any that could have been delineated by the pen of Milton himself. Dunbar had the fortune, rare in that age, of seeing some of his works printed in his own lifetime. In 1508, among the very first efforts of the Scottish pi-ess, Chepman and Millar published his " Golden Targe," his " Twa Marriet Wemen and the Wedo," and several other poems. Three years after the poet's pension had been increased to eighty pounds, came the fatal disaster of Flodden, involving 1G2 LORD VISCOUNT DUNCAN. the destruction of the king and his nobles. How the fortunes of the bard wero affected by this sad national event does not appear. Mr. Laing thinks it pro- bable tliat ho at last succeeded in obtaining preferment in the church. " Tin? queen dowager, whom, during the king's life, our poet styled his 'advocate baytb fair and swcit,' could have no difficulty, during her regency, in providing for hi? wants J and we cannot believe that she would allow his old age to pine away in poverty and neglect. Even were it otlierwise, we are not to suppose that he had no other friends in power who would be willing to assist in procuring some adequate and permanent provision for an individual who had so long contributed, by his writings, to the amusement of the court." The poet is supposed to have survived till 1520, and died at the age of sixty. The first complete collection of his works was published by Mr David Laing in 1834. Although Dunbar received from his contemporaries the homage due to the greatest of Scotland's early ')aakars, his name and fame were doomed to a total eclipse, during the period from 1530, when Sir David Lyndsay mentions him among the poets then deceased, to tlie year 1724, when some of his poems were revived by Allan Ramsay. Mr Laing observes, that " if any misfortune had befallen the two nearly coeval manu- script collections of Scottish poetry by Banuatyne and Maitland, the great chance is, that it might have been scarcely known to posterity that such a poet as Duubar ever existed." DUNCAN, Lord Viscount, one of the comparatively few naval heroes of whom Scotland can boast, was a younger son of Alexander Duncan, Esq. of Lundio, in the county of Forfar. He was born in Dundee on 1st July, 1731 ; in which town he also received the rudiments of his education. The family ot Lundie, which had for centuries been distinguished for its peaceful and domestic virtues, seems, at this time to have had an inclination directed towards the more active business of Avar — the eldest son having gone into the army, while the younger, the subject of the present sketch, joined the navy at the aspiring age of sixteen. In 1747, he took the humble conveyance of a carrier's cart to Leith, whence he sailed to London ; and beginning his career in a manner so characteristic of the unostentatious but settled views of his countrymen, he did not i-evisit the place of his birth until his genius, his virtues, and his courage had secured for him the honour of an admiral's commission, and the gratitude of his country. In the year last mentioned, young Duncan went on board the Shoreham frigate, Captiiin Kaldane, under whom he served for three years. He was af- terwards entered as a midshipman on board the Centui-ion of fifty guns, then Hag-ship of commodore Keppel, Avho had received the appointment of comman- der-in-chief on the Mediten-anean station. While on this station, Mr Duncan attracted the attention and regard of the connnodore, no less by the mildness of his manners, and the excellence of his disposition, which, indeed, distinguished his character through life, than by the ability and intrepidity which he uni- forndy displayed in the discharge of his arduous thougli subm-dinate duties. How true it is that the sure foundations of future fame can be laid only during tliat period of youth which precedes the commencement of manhood's more anxious business ! His submission to the severity of naval discipline, the dili- gence with which he made himself acquainted with the practical details of his professional duties, and the assiduity with which he cultivated an intellect natur- ally powerful, formed the true germs whence his greatness afterwards sprung. The amiable and excellent qualities which so soon and so conspicuously manifest- ed themselves in his mind and character, gained for him, at an early period of his life, the afl'ection of many whose friendship proved useful to him in the sub- sequent stages of his professional advancement. LORD VISCOUNT DUXCAN. 163 As Kcppel, himself a hero, liad been t)ie first to discover kindred qualities in his young friend, so he was also the first who had the honour to reward the ris- ing- genius of Mr Duncan. In January 17 55, the commodore was selected to command the ships of war destined to convey the transports which had been equipped for the purpose of carrying out troops under general Hraddock to North America, where the French had made various encroachments on British tei'ritory ; and it was then that Keppel paid a compliment no less creditable to his own discrimination than flattering to Duncan's merits, by placing his name at the head of the list of those whom he had the privilege of recoimuending to promotion, Mr Duncan was accordingly raised to the rank of lieutenant ; in which capacity he went on board the Norwich, captain Barrington. Soon after the arrival of the fleet in Virginia, the commodore removed Mr Duncan on hoard his own ship the Centurion, whereby he was placed not only moi'e imme- diately under the friendly eye of his commander, but in a more certain chan- nel of promotion. With the Centurion he retuiuied to England, and remained unemployed (still the shipmate of Keppel, now on the home station) for three years. He was soon afterwards, however, called into active service, having been present at the attack on the French settlement of Goree on the coast of Africa ; and the expectations which his commander had foi-med of him were amply realized by the bravery which he displayed in the attack on the fori. Before the return of the expedition he rose to the first lieutenancy of the commodore's sliip, the Torbay. In September, 1759, he was promoted to the rank of commander, and in February, 1761, being then in his thirtieth year, he obtained a post-captaincy. The ship to ^vhich on this occasion he was appointed was the Valiant, of seventy- four guns, on board which Keppel hoisted his flag, as commodore in command of the fleet whirh carried out the expedition to Belleisle. Here the critical duty of commanding the boats to cover the disembarkation of the troops devolved on captain Duncan, and in this, as in various other difficult and important services in which he was employed during the siege, he greatly distinguished himself. He had the honour, also, of taking possession of the Spanish ships when the town surrendered to the English. In the year following, he sailed with the Valiant in the expedition under admiral Pocock, which reduced the Havannah ; and he i-emained in command of the same vessel till the conclusion of the war, in 1763. The powers of Europe, notwithstanding the exhausting conflicts in which they had for many years been engaged, were still too heated to remain long at peace, and the war which fol- lowed, again called into active operations all the energies of the British navy. No opportunity, however, occurred that enabled Duncan, now commander of the Suffolk of 74 guns, to distinguish himself. On returning to England on the temporary cessation of hostilities, he had the singular fortune of being willed to sit as a member of the court-martial which >vas held on his brave and injured friend, admiral Keppel, whose unanimous and most honourable acquittal was im- mediately followed by votes of thanks from both houses of parliament for his dis- tinguished services. He discharged perhaps a less irksome, but a not less impar- tial duty, on the trial of Keppel's accuser. Sir Hugh Palliser, who, suffering under tiie censure of the court, and the resentment of the nation, was forced to relinquish all his public offices. In the summer of 1779, captain Duncan commanded the Monarch, 71, at- tached to the channel fleet under Sir Charles Hardy ; and towards the conclu- sion of the year, he was placed under the orders of Sir George Ro«lney, who sailed with a powerful squadron to attempt the relief of Gibraltar. This arma- ment, besides effecting the purpose for which it hod been sent out, had the good 164 LORD VISCOUNT DUNCAN. fortune to capture a fleet of fifteen Spanish mercliantment and their convoy, a sixty-four gm\ sliip and four frigates. Tlie aduiii-al liad scarcely regulated the distribution of the prizes, when, on IGth January, ort* Cape St Vincent, he came in siglit of a Spanish squadron of eleven ships of the line, commanded by Don Juan Lan£rara. The En^dish admiral immediately bore down with his whole force, and captain Uuucan, altliounfh his ship \\as one of the worst sailers in the fleet, had the honour, as it had been his ambition, to get first into action. His gallant impetuosity having been observed by his no less daring conmunder the captain was warned of the danger of rushing unsupported into a position where he would be exposed to the fire of three of the enemy's largest ships. " Just what I want, (lie coolly replied,) / wish to be among thein^ — and the 3IonarcIi dashing on, was in an instant alongside of a Spanish ship of much larger dimensions, while two others of the same rate and magnitude lay within musket shot to leeward of him. In this perilous position — one, however, in which every true British sailor glories to be placed — the 3Ionarch had to con- tend against fearful odds ; but tlien Duncan knew that allowance was to be made for the dilference between British and Spanish skill and bravery, and he calcu- Lited rightly, for though the Spaniards defended the«2selves with great gallantry, the two ships to leeward soon perceived that there was more safety in flight tlian in maintaining the contest, and they accordingly made off with all the sail they could carry, leaving their companion, who had no opportunity of escape, to make the best defence in his power. Duncan had now comparatively easy work ; and directing all his fire against his antagonist, he had the satisfaction, in less than half an hour, of seeing the St Augustin of 70 guns, strike her colours to the 3Ionarch. This engagement afforded little opportunity for a display of scientific tactics ; it was, in seamen's language, a fair st,ind-up fight, gained by the party who had the stoutest heart and the strongest arm. But it distin- guished captain Duncan as a man of the most dauntless intrepidity, and of judo-, ment competent to form a correct estimate of his own sti-engtli, as compared with that of his adversaries. After beating the St Augustin, captain Duncan pushed forward into the heart of the battle, and, by a well-directed fire against several of the enemy's ships, contiibuted greatly to the victory which was that day achieved over the Spanish flag. The St Augustin proved a worthless prize. So much liad she been shattered by the 3Ionarch"s tremendous fire, tluit it be- came necessary to take her in tow ; but, taking water rapidly, her captoi-s were under the necessity of abandoning her, in consequence of which she was repos- sessed by her original crew, and can-ied into a Spanish port. On captain Duncan's return to England in the same year, he quitted the 3Ion- arch, and, in 17S2, was appointed to the Blenheim, of 90 guns. With this ship he joined the main or channel fleet, under lord Howe. He shortly after- wards accompanied his lordship to Gibraltar, and bore a distinguished part in the engagement which took place in October, off the mouth of the straits, with the combined fleets of France and Spain, on which occasion he led the larboard division of the centre, or commander-in-chief's squaib'on. Here he ao-ain sig- nalized himself by the skill and braverj- with Avhich he fought his ship. After returning to England he enjoyed a respite for a few years from the dangei-s and anxieties of active warfare. Having removed to the Edgar, 74, a Portsmoutli gu;ird-ship, he employed his time usefully to his country, and agree- ably to himself, though he would have preferred the wider sphere of usefulness which a command on the seas would have aftorded him, in giving instructions in the science of naval warfare to a number of young gentlemen, several of whom subseq[uently distinguished themselves in their profession. LORD VISCOUNT DUNCAN. 165 Overlooked for several yeai-s by an administration wlio did not always reward merit according- to its deserts, he was now destined to receive tliat promotion to which, by his deeds, he had acquired so just a claim. On 11th September, 1787, he was raised to the rank of rear-admiral of the blue ; and three years afterwards, he was invested Avith the same rank in the white squadron. On 1st February, 1793, he i-eceived promotion as vice-aduiiral of the blue, and, on l-2th April, 1794., as vice-admiral of the white. On 1st June, 1795, he was ap- pointed admiral of the blue, and of the white, on 14th February, 1799. At none of tliese successive steps of advancement, except the two last, was he in active service, although he had frequently solicited a command. In February. 1795, he received the appointment of commander-in-chief of all the ships and vessels in the north seas : he first hoisted iiis Hag on board the Prince George, of ninety guns, but afterwards removed to the A'enerable, of seventy-four, a vessel of a more suitable size for the service in which he was about to engage, and one in which he afterwards rendered so glorious a service to his country. History does not perhaps record a situation of more perplexing difficulty than that in which admiral Duncan found himself placed in the sununer of 1797. For a considerable period he had maintained his station off the Dutch coast, in the face of a strong fleet, and in defiance of the seasons, and when it was known with certainty that his opponents were ready for sea, and anxious to effect a landing in Ireland, where they expected the co-operation of a numerous band of malcontents. At this most critical juncture, he was deserted by almost the whole of his fleet, the crews of his difterent ships having, witii those of the channel fleet, and the fleet at the Nore, broken out into a mutiny, the most formidable recorded in history. With the assistance of a foreign force, Ireland was prepared for open rebellion; Scotland had its united societies; and Eng- land, too, was agitated by political discontent, when a spirit of a similar kind unhappily manifested itself in the British fleet. Early in the year of which we speak, petitions on the subject of pay and provisions had been addressed to lord Howe from every line of battle ship lying at Portsmouth, of which no notice whatever was taken. In consequence, on the return of the fleet to the port, an epistolary correspondence was held throughout the whole fleet, which ended in a resolution, that not an anchor should be lifted until a redress of gi-ievances was obtained. Accordingly, on the 15th of April, when lord Bridport ordered the signal for the fleet to prepare for sea, the sailors on board his own ship, the Queen Charlotte, instead of weighing anchor, took to the siirouds, Avhere they gave him three cheers, and their example was followed by every ship in the fleet. The officers were astonished, and exerted themselves, in vain, to bring back the men to a sense of their duty. Alarmed at the formidable nature of this combination, which was soon discovered to be extensively organized, the lords of the admiralty arrived on the 1 8th, and various proposals were immediately made to induce the men to return to their duty, but all their overtures were reject- ed. They were informed, indeed, that it was the determined purpose of the crews of all the ships to agree to nothing but that which should be sanctioned by parlia- ment, and by the king's proclamation. In circumstances so alarming to the whole nation, government was compelled to make some important concessions, and a promise of his majesty's pardon to the oftenders. These, after much de- liberation, were accepted, and the men returned to their duty with apparent satisfaction. The ringleaders of the mutiny were still, however, secretly em- ployed in exciting the men to fresh acts of insubordination ; and, taking hold of some parliamentary discussions which had recently been published, the mu- tiny was, in the course of fourteen days, revived at Spithead with more than its 166 LORD VISCOUNT DUNCAN. orijjinal violence ; and, under pretence tiral government did not mean to fulfil its engaijements, the channel fleet, on the 7th of May, refused to put to sea. Such officers as bad become otijects of suspicion or dislike to their crews were put on siiore. Flags of defiance were hoisted in every ship ; and a declaration was sent on shore, stating, that thev knew the Dutch fleet was on the point of sailing, but, determined to have their grievances redressed, they would bring matters to a crisis at once, by blocking up the Thames ! At this drpadful crisis, an act was hurried through parliament, increasing their wages ; but, so far from satisfying them, this conciliatory and liberal measure served only to increase their insolence, and to render tiiem the more extravagant in their demands. F'our ships of Duncan's fleet, from Yarmouth, were now moored across the mouth of the i'hames. Trading vessels were prevented alike from entering and leaving the river, and all communication with the shore was prohibited. A regular system was adopted for the internal management of each ship, and Richard Parker, a person who had recently employed himself as a political agitator in Scotland, was placed at the head of the disaffected fleet. On the part of government, pi-eparations were made for an attack on the mutineers. All farther concession was refused ; the eight articles submitted to government by Parker were rejected; and it was intimated, that nothing but unconditional submission would be accepted by the administration. Tliis firnwiess on the part of government had, at length, the desired effect. Dismayed at their own rash- ness and folly, the ships escaped one by one from Parker's fleet, and submitted themselves to their commanders ; and the apprehension, trial, and execution of Parker and others of the mutineers, which speedily followed, closed this most disgraceful and formidable mutiny. The anxiety of the nation all this time was intense ; that of Duncan, deserted as he was by the gi-eater part of his fleet, while in the daily expectation of an enemy coming out, must have been ex- treme. On the 3d of June, when thus forsaken, he called together the faithful crew of his own ship, the Venerable, and gave vent to his feelings in a speech, which has been admired as one of the flnest specimens of simple eloquence — " 3Iy lads," said he, " 1 once more call you together with a sorrowful heart, from what I have lately seen of the disaffection of the fleets: I call it disaffection, for they have no grievances. To bo deserted by my fleet, in the face of an enemy, is a dis- grace which I believe never before happened to a British admiral, nor could 1 have supposed it possible. My greatest comfort, imder God, is that I have been supported by the officers and seamen of this ship, for which, with a heart overflowing with gra- titude, I request you to accept my sincere thanks. I flatter myself much good may result from your example, by bringing these deluded people to a sense of the duty which they owe not only to their king and country, but to themselves. The British navy has ever been the support of that liberty which has been handed down to us by our ancestors, and which, I trust, we shall maintain to the latest posterity, and that c^an be done only by unanimity and obedience. The ship's company, and others who have distinguished tht;mselves by their loyalty and good order, deserve to be, and doubtless will be, the favourites of a grateful country. They will also have, from their in\vard feelings, a comfort wliich will be lasting, and not like the fleeting and false confidence of those who have s\vcrved from their duty. It has often been my pride to look into the Texel, and see a foe which decided on coming out to meet us. 3Iy pride is now humbled indeed! 31 y feelings are not easily to be expressed. Our cup has overflowed, and made us wanton. The all-wise Providence has given us this check as a warning, and I hope we shall improve by it. On liim then let us trust, where our only security can be found. I find there are many good men among us ; for my own pait, I have had full confidence of all in this ship. LORD VISCOUNT DUNCAN. 167 and once more beg to express nij approbation of your conduct May God, ^^ho has thus far conducted you, continue to do so ; and may the British na\-y, the glory and support of our countiy, be restored to its wonted splendour, and be not only tlie bulwark of Britain, but tlie terror of the world. But this can only be effected by a spirit of adlierence to our daty, and obedience ; and let us pray tliat the Almighty God may keep us in the right way of thinking ; God bless you all !" Tlie crew of the Venerable were so affected by this simple, but impressive address, that on retiring there was not a dry eye among them. Tlius, admii-al Duncan, by acts of mildness and conciliation, and by his uni- form firmness, contrived, when every other British admiral, and even the govern- ment itaelf failed in the attempt, to keep his own ship, as well as the crew of the Adamant, free from the contagion of the dangerous evil that then almost universally prevailed. Fortunately for Great Britain the enemy was not aware of the insubordina- tion that existed throughout the fleet At a time, however, when Duncan had only t >vo line of battle ships under his control, his ingenuity supplied the place of strength, and saved this country from the disgrace of a foreign invasion ; for it cannot be doubted, tliat had the Dutch commander known the state of help- lessness in which the nation was placed, when its right arm was so effectually bound up by the demon of rebellion, they would have chosen tliat moment to ran for our shores. It was then that the happy thought occurred to the anxious mind of Duncan, that by approaching the I'exel with his puny force, and by making signals as if his fleet were in the offing, he might deceive the wary De Winter into the belief that he was blocked up by a superior squadron. This stratagem was employed with entii-e success, nor indeed was it known to De Winter that a deception had been practised upon him, until he had become his antagonist's px-isoner. This manoeuvre, so singular in its conception, so success- ful in its execution, and performed at a moment of such extreme national dif- ficulty, stands unparalleled in naval history, and alone gave to him who devised it as good a claim to the honour of a coronet, and to his counti'y's gratitude, as if he had gained a great victory. On the termination of the mutiny, admiral Dmican was joined by ih(? rest of his fleet, very much humbled, and anxious for an opportunity to wipe away, by some splendid achievement, the dishonoiu* they had incuiTed. The two rival fleets were now placed on an equal footing ; and all anxiety for the event of a collision was completely removed. Having blockaded tlie Dutch coast till the month of October, Duncan was under the necessity of coming to Yarmouth roads to refit, leaving only a small squadi-on of observation luider tlie command of captain Trollope. But scarcely had he reached the roads, when a vessel on the back of the sands gave the spirit-stirring signal tliat the enemy was at sea. Not a moment was lost in getting under sail, and early on the morning of the llth of October he was in sight of captain Trollop&"s squadi'on, with a signal ikying for an enemy to leeward. He instantly bore up, made signal for a general chase, and soon came up with them, forming in line on the larboard tack, be- tween CamperdowTi and Egniont, the land being about nine miles to leeward. The two fleets were of nearly equal force, consisting each of sixteen sail of the line, exclusive of frigates, brigs, &:a As they approached each other, the British admiral made signal for his fleet, which was bearing up in two divisions, to break the enemy's line, and engage to leeward ; each ship her opponent The signal was promptly obeyed ; and getting between the enemy and the land, to which they were fast approaching, tlie action commenced at half-jast twelve, and by one it was general throughout the whole line. The Monarch was the first to break the enemy's line. The 108 LORD VISCOUNT DUNCAN. Venerable was frustrated in her attempt to pass astern of De Winter's flag ship ; but pouring a destructive ijroadside into the States-tieneral, whicli had closed up the interval through wliicli the Venerable intended to pass, she compelled that vessel to abandon the line. 'Ihe Venerable then engaged De Winter's ship the Vryheid, and a tenible conflict ensued between the two conimandei-s- in-chief. But it was not a single-handed fight. The enemy's Leyden, Mars, and Brutus, in conjunction with the Vryheid, successively cannonaded the Ve- nerable, and she found it expedient to give ground a little though not forced to retreat In the meantime the Triumph came up to her relief, and, along with the Venerable, gave a final blow to the well fought and gallantly defended Vry- heid, every one of whose masts were sent overboard, and hei-self reduced to an unmanage.ible hulk. The contest throughout the other parts of the line was no less keenly maintained on both sides ; but with the suiTender of the admiral's ship the action ceased, and De Winter himself was brought on board the Vene- rable, a prisoner of war. His ship and nine other prizes were taken possession of by the English. Shortly after the States-General had received the fire of the Venerable, she escaped from the action, and, along with two others of rear- admiral Storey's division, was carried into the Texel, the admiral having after- wards claimed merit for having saved a part of the fleet. The British suffered severely in their masts and rigging, but still more so in their hulls, against wliich the Dutch had mainly directed their fire. The loss of lives also was gi'eat, but not in proportion to that suffered by the enemy. The carnage on board of the two admirals' ships was particulaily great, amounting to not less than 250 men killed and wounded in each. The total loss of the British was 191 killed, and 5G0 wounded, while the loss of the Dutch was computed to have been more than double that amount. At the conclusion of the battle, the English fleet was Avithin five miles of the shore, from whence many thousands of Dutch citizens witnessed the spectacle of the destruction and defeat of their fleet. When the conflict was over, admiral Duncan ordered the crew of his ship together, and falling down upon his knees before them, returned solemn thanks to the God of battles for the victory he had given them, and for the protection he had afforded them in the hour of danger. This impressive act of pious humility affected the Dutch admiral to tears. Naval tacticians accord to admiral Duncan great merit for this action. It stands distinguished from every other battle fought during the war by the bold expedient of running the fleet between the enemy and a lee shore with a strong wind blowing on the land, a mode of attack which none of Ijis predeces- soi-s had ever hazarded. The admiral also evinced gi*eat judgment in the latter part of the contest, and in extricating his fleet and prizes from a situation so perilous and difficult — while the Dutch sustained all the character of their best days. The battle of Camperdown, indeed, whether we vie^v it as exhibiting the skill and courage of its victor, the bravery of Britisli seamen, or as an event of great political importance, will ever stand conspicuous among the numy naval victories that adorn our annals. On the arrival of admiral Duncan at the Nore on 17th October, he was ci'eatcd a peer of Great Britain by the title of viscount Duncan of Camperdown, and baron Duncan of Lundie, to which estate he had succeeded by the death of his brother ; and a pension of £2,000 a-year was granted his lordship for himself and the two next heirs of the peerage. The thanks of both houses of parliament were unanimously voted to the fleet — and the city of London presented lord Duncan with the freedom of the city, and a sword of 200 guineas value. Gold medals were also struck in connnemoration of the victory, which were presented to the admirals and captains of tlie fleet. The public too, by whom the benefits ANDREW DUNCAN, Sen., M.D. KjD of no action during that eventful war were more liiglily appreciated than the one of which we have been speaking, paid Lord Duncan a flattering mark of respect by wearing, the women, gowns and ribands, and the men vests of a particular kind which were named " Camperdowns," after the victory. Lord Duncan continued in the connuand of the north-sea sq^iiadron till the beginning of the year 1800, when there being no longer any probability of the enemy venturing to sea, and having now arrived at liis GDth year, lie finally retired from the anxieties of public, to tlie enjoyment of private life ; which he adorned as eminently by his virtues, as he had done his public station by hia energy and talents. j In 1777 liis Lordship married 3Iiss Dundas, daughter of lord president Dundas, I of the court of session in Scotland, by whom lie had several children. He did not long enjoy his retirement, having been cut oft* in tlie 73id ye.ir of liis age by a stroke of apoplexy at Cornhill, on his way from London, in the simnior of 1 S04. He was succeeded in his estates and titles by his eldest son, — in elevating whom to an earldom, William IV. not only paid an honourable tribute of respect to tlio memory of the father, but a just compliment to the talents, public spirit, and worth of the son. We close this sketch in the words of a late \n-iter: " It would perhaps be difficult to find in modern history, another man in whom with so much meekness, modesty, and unaffected dignity of mind, were united so much genuine spirit, so much of the skill and fire of professional genius ; such vigorous and active wisdom ; such alacrity and ability for great achievements, with such indifference for their success, except so far as they might contribute to the good of his country. Lord Duncan was tall, above the middle size, and of an athletic and firmly pro- portioned form. His countenance was remarkably expressive of the benevo- lence and ingenuous excellencies of his mind.'' DUNC^\N, Andrew, Senr. M. D., an esteemed physician and professor of the institutions of medicine in the university of Edinburgh, was born at St Andrews on the 17th October, 1744. His father, who was formerly a merchant and shipmaster in Crail, was descended from a younger branch of the Duncans of Ardownie, in the county of Angus ; and his mother, a daughter of professor Villant, was related to the Drummonds of HaAvthornden. He received his pre- liminary education for the profession of medicine at St Andrews, from the uni- versity of which city he obtained the degree of master of arts in 3Iay, 17(32. He then transferred his residence to Edinburgh, where he pursued his medical studies under the happiest auspices, being the pupil, as he was afterwards the friend, of Dr Cullen, Dr John Gregory, Dr iMonro the second, Dr John Hope, and Dr Black. The university of Edinburgh was at this period begin- ning to hold a prominent position in the scientific and litei-ary world ; for al- though the many discoveries that have since been made, lay then concealed like precious stones in their mines, unknown and unsuspected, yet the genex'tal and visible advancement of the progi-essive sciences which were here taught and cuh tivated by their I'espective professors, began to be duly felt and appreciated both at home and abi'oad. The professors, who held not their offices as sinecures, toiled incessantly and indefatigably to advance the interests and extend the known boundaries of science ; and the students, emulating their examples, were likewise animated by a spirit of zeal and inquiry, which in turn reflected back honour on the university. It is not, then, to be supposed that our young candi- date for medical honour.s, who had already distinguished himself by his talents and acquirements at St Andrews, would be less active than his fellow-students ; and accordingly, we find that he soon obtained their suffrages of respect and esteem, in being elected a president of the Royal Medical Society in the session of 170 ANDREW DUNCAN, Sen., M.D. 1764, the second year after the commencement of his medical studies in Edin- burgh. In the welfare of this society he ever afterwards took a warm interest, nor did he hesitate to declare, that he considered it an essential part of the medi- cal school of ridinburgh. In the year 1768-9, having completed liis studies, he went a voyage to China, in the capacity of surgeon to the honourable East India company's ship Asia, under the coiunumd of captain, afterwards Sir Robert Pres- ton. So much to the satisfaction and advantage of the sliip's company did he dis- charge his professional duties, that when the vessel returned to England on the termination of the voyage, the captain oHbred him the sum of 500 guineas to go out with him a second time ; but this otTer, however complimentary, he thought it expedient to decline, for tiie purpose of ptirsuing a different and more conge- nial tenor of life. In the October, therefore, of tlie same year (1769), he received the diploma of doctor of medicine from the university of St Andrews, and in the month of 3Iay following, was admitted a licentiate of the royal college of physicians in Edinburgh. Dr Duncan immediately sought to distinguish himself in his profession, and in 1770 came forward as a candidate for the professorship of medicine in the univei-sity of St Andrews, that chair having become vacated by the death of Dr Simpson. On this occasion he produced flattering testimonials from all the members of the mediral faculty of the university of Edinburgh, and from other eminent members of the profession ; but his application proved un- successful, the rival candidate being duly elected. In the four sessions succeed- ing that of 17G9-70, he was annually re-elected one of the presidents of the royal medical society, and during this period exerted himself in completing the aiTangements for the erection of the medical hall, now occupied by the society. About this time he became attached to, and married a lady with whom he en- joyed an uninterrupted union of upwards of fifty-seven years, and by whom he had twelve children. She was a Miss Elizabeth Knox, the daughter of Mr John Knox, surgeon in the service of the East India company, who, it may be added, was the eldest son of t lie Rev. William Knox, minister of Daireie, in the county of Fife, and great-grand-nephew to the illustrious reformer. On the death of Dr John Gregory, professor of the theory of medicine in the university of Edinburgh, which occurred in February, 1773, Dr Di'ummond uas appointed to that chair, but being absent from the country, Dr Duncan was chosen to supply the temporary vacancy. He, accordingly, during the sessions 1774-5 and 1775-!), delivered lectui-es on the theory of medicine; in addition to which he revived the judicious plan adopted by Dr Rutherford, of illustrating the select cases of indigent patients labouring under chi'onic complaints, by clinical lectures. Dr Drummond still failing to attend to his duties, the magis- trates and town council, on the 12th June, 177(1, declared the chair to be again vacant, and on the lOth of the same month elected Dr James Gregory, the son of the late professor, to the professorship, the duties of which had been for two years discharged by Dr Duncan. The life of every man is more or less chequer- ed by disappointment, and assuredly this could not be other\\ise than keenly felt by Dr Duncan, who, in his concluding clinical address, after reviewing the records of the hospital, and alluding to the successful practice he there adopted, thus piK)cceds : " 1 have the satisfaction of being able to retire from this arduous task with ease in my own mind, and I hope not without some additional credit in your estimation. IMy academical labours have not indeed in other respects been attended with equal advantage. I was not without hopes that by my exer- tions here, I should still have been able to hold the office of a teacher in the univei-sity, and I had no hesitation in ofl'ering myself a candidate for the chair lately vacant. In that competition I had indeed no powerful connexion, no political interest to aid my cause ; but I thought that my chance for success ANDREW DUNCAN, Sen., M.D. 171 stood on no infinn basis when it \vas rested on what I had done to desi-rve it. Although, however, I can no longer act in an equally conspicuous capacity, yet I liope I may hereafter be employed as a teacher in one not less useful. I am neither arrived at that age which requires ease, nor am I placed in those cir- cumstances which will allow of it. It is therefore my present intention, still to dedicate my labourj to the service of the students of medicine. * * * * I liave already lived long enough to have experienced even advantages from disappointment on other occasions, and time alone can determine whether the present disappointment may not yet afford me the strongest instance of the fa- vour of heaven."' The human mind often acquires additional strength and ac- tivity from the fruits of advei-sity ; and in the pi-esent instance, Dr Duncan im- mediately determined on delivering an independent coui-se of lectures on the tlieory and practice of piiysic, without the walls of the university ; besides which, as his clinical lectures had been so numerously attended, he also announced Jiis intention of continuing them. " While these lectures," said he, in announcing his intention, "are more immediately intended for the instruction of students, they will be also the means of furnishing the indigent with advice and medicines gratis, when subjected to chronical diseases." He soon found that the number of sick poor who applied to him for relief was so considerable, that he was in- duced to project a scheme for the establishment of a dispensary for the purpose of alleviating the sufferings of those whose diseases were not of a nature to en- title them to admission into the royal infirmary. AVhen, in addition to the gnawing miseries of poverty, the victims of ill fortune have to wiithe under the tortures of slow and lingering disease, sad indeed are the endurances of suffer- ing humanity ; and no wonder therefore is it, that when the objects of tiiis in- stitution, bv the unwearied exertions of Dr Duncan, were brought fully and fairly before the public, a sufficient fund was raised to carry his views into effect. In Richmond Sti-eet, on the south side of the city, a commodious build- ing for this charity was erected, and in 1818, the subscribers were incorporated by royal charter. Notwithstanding the increasing number of similar institutions, this dispensary continues to flourish ; and a picture of the venerable founder is placed in its hall. In the same year that Dr Duncan commenced lecturing (1773), he also un- dertook the publication of a periodical work, entitled " Medical and Philoso- phical Conmientaries,'' which Avas avowedly on the plan of a similar publication at Leipsic ; — the " Commentarii de Rebus in Scientia Natural! et Medicina gestis,'' — which obviously could only be a very imperfect channel for the com- munication of British medical literature. The Medical and Philosophical Commentaries contained an account of the best new books in medicine, and the collateral branches of philosophy ; medical cases and observations ; the most recent medical intelligence, and lists of new books : it appeared in quarterly parts, forming one volume annually, and continued until the year 171)5 under his sole superintendence, when it had extended to twenty volumes. It was afterwards continued by him under the title of " Annals of Medicine," until the year 1304, when it consisted of eight volumes more, after which, Dr Duncan ceased to officiate as editor, and changing its appellation, it became the " Edinburgh Medical and Surgical Journal," wliich, under the care of his son, became subsequently one of the most influential medical journals in Europe. In the year 1790, Dr Duncan was elected president of the college of physi- cians in Edinburgh, and in the same year, his venerable friend Dr Cullen hav- ing resigned the professoi-ship of the practice of medicine, Dr James Gregory I Medical and Philosophic^ Commentaries, vol. iv. 103, 10 1. 172 ANDREW DUNCAN, Sen., M.D. ivas transLateJ to that chair. The object of Dr Duncan's former ambition ho now obtained, for after havinect of liis contemporaries, both at home and abroad. He was elected a coiTcsponding member of the medical society of Denmark in 1776_, and of the royal medical society of Paris in 1778; he uas ANDREW DUNCAN, Jun., M.D. 175 cliosen a moniber of the American philosophical society of Philadelphia iu 178G, and of the medical society of London in 1787 ; he uas appointed an honorary member of the Cesarian university of Moscow in 1805, and first president of the niedico-chirurgical society of EdinburgJi at its institution in 1821. Asa professor in the university of Edinburgh, he uas deserved and esteemed. His lectures were written in a perspicuous and unadorned style, and the physiologi- cal doctrines he promulgated, were those which were considered the best estab- lished at that period ; and these he explained in so clear a manner that his course of lectures m.iy even yet be regarded as valuable, notwithstanding the additions that have been since made to our knowledge in this department of medical science. His style of lecturing uas simple and unaffected, and no man could discharge moi'C conscientiously the duties of his office. Both as a pro- fessor and a man, in his public and private career, his many estimable qualities endeared him to society, where all ^vho had the good fortune to know him, yet justly venerate his memory. DUNC^AN, Andrew, Junior, IM. D., the son of the excellent physician whose memoir we have given above, is entitled to a prominent rank among those who have distinguished themselves in the history of medicine. He ^vas born in Edin- burgh on the 10th August, 1773. At an early age he showed a predilection for medical science, being, when yet very young, often found in his fathers library poring over medical books; to gratify \\hich inclination he would often rise at an early hour before the rest of the family. His father naturally, there- fore, destined hina for the profession, and after going through the preliminary course of education prescribed for youth, he commenced its study in 1787. That he might become acquainted with the science in all its practical details, he sei-ved a regidar apprenticeship for five yeai-s with Messrs Alexander and George Wood, fellows of the royal college of surgeons ; during which probation he toiled assiduously in laying the foundation of his future reputation. He then went through a complete course of literature and philosophy at the university, where, in 1793, he was admitted master of arts, and in 1794, received the degree of doctor of medicine. AVith the view of acquiring a still more competent knowledge of his profes- sion, he spent the ensuing winter, 1794—95, in London, where he attended the lectures on anatomy and suvgei-y, then delivered in Windmill Street, by Dr Baillie and Air Cruickshank ; and dissected under the supei'intendence of Air \Vilson. He there also became a pupil of Dr George Pearson in chemistry, materia medica, and medicine, and received unusual advantages and opportuni- ties of improvement from the attention and kindness of his father's numerous friends. He then proceeded to the continent. After spending some time in Hamburg, Brunswick, and Hanovei-, for the purpose of acquiring the German language, seeing the hospitals of those cities, and becoming pei-sonally acquaint- ed with the distinguished individuals at the head of the profession there, he entered himself a student in the university of Gottingen. There he attended the hospital under Richiter, and resided with professor Grelbnan, and had the good fortune to enjoy the intimate acquaintance of Blumenbach, Torisberg, Gmelin, Arnemann, Stromeyer, and Heine, gaining besides the friendship of many of the most distinguished students, who now fill chairs in the universities of Germany. Fi'om Gottingen he went to Vienna, visiting the hospitals and most of the celebrated men in the various universities and capitals through which he passed ; after which he proceeded to Italy through the Tyroie, and having seen the lics- pitals at Milan, resided during the winter at Pisa, in the house of Brugnatelii, the professor of chemistry, lia there attended the lectures and hospital prac- irt> ANDREW DUNCAN. Juw^ M.D, tice of Scarpa, whose Iriendsbip and con-espondence lie had ever aftervvai-ds the honour of retaining ; and also clinical medicine under Joseph Frank, and natu- ral history under Spalkinzaiii. He then made the tour of Italy as far as Naples, remained some time at Home, and returned by Padua, Venice, and Trieste, to Vienna, where he attended the clinical lectures of John Peter Frank, then at the head of the profession in Germany. From Vienna he returned home, through Prague, Leipsic, Halle, Dresden, and Berlin, remaining in each long enough to see the public institutions and become acquainted, with the most cele- bi-ated men. Durin? this toui-, not only did he acquire a more accurate and more extensive knowledge conceminor the medical institutions and the state of medical science abroad tluin was at tliat time possessed by other medical men in this countrj- : but he attained a proficiency in foreign languages, and an erudi- tion in literatiu-e, which added all the accomplishments of a schoLir to his quali- fications as a physician. Here, too, in leisure hours snatched from severer studies, he cultivated his taste for the fine arts, more especially for painting and muiic^ in which he ever afterwards found a charm to relieve him from the fatigues he had to encounter in the laborious and anxious discharge of his professional and professorial duties. On his return to Edinburgh, he assisted his father in editing the 3Iedical Commentaries, which, as we have already stated, extended to twenty voluuies, and was succeeded by the Annals of 3Iedicine, on the title page of w hich the name of Dr Duncan junior, fii-st appeai'ed along with that of his father as joint editors. But at the request of lord Selkirk he was again induced to leave liis native city to visit the continent, for the purpose of attendin? his lordship's son, who was suffering under ill health. On his arrival, however, he found that this young nobleman had expired ; but the attainments of Dr Duncan having attracted considerable notice on the continent, and being- already signalized by a portion of the fame he after^\ards enjoyed, he was solicited to prolong his stay in Italy, where he was by many invalids professionally consulted, and again enjoyed the opportunity of prosecuting his favourite pursuits. No man, perhaps, was ever more thoroughly bubued with the love of knowledge. It was in him an innate desire, urging him on >vith increasing restlessness to constant mental activity. He now remained chiefly in Florence and Pisa nine months, where he lived on habits of intimacy with the celebrated Fontana and Fabroni ; after which, having visited many places in Switzerland and Genuany, which he had not passed through during his former tour, he aaain retui-ned to Edinbiu-gli. He there settled as a medical practitioner, and was elected a fellow of the royal college of physicians, and shortly afterwards one of the physicians of the royal public dispensar)-, founded by the exertions of his father, in 1773. W hile actively engaged in the practical department of his prot'ession, he did not neglect the application of his erudition and talents to the duTusion and ad- vancement of medical science among his professional brethren. In 1505, he undenook the cliief editorship of the Edinburgh 3Iedical and Sui-gical Journal, ^vhich has for twenty-seven years sustained the high reputation of being one of the most valuable and influential medical journals in Europe. He acted from the commencement as the cliief editor, although for some lime he was assisted by Dr Kellie of Leith, Dr Balteman of London, Dr Reeve of Norwich, and after- wards by Dr Cralgie. But his chief and most valuable contribution to medical science was the Edinburgh Dispensalorj-, the first edition of which appeared iu 1S03. A similar work had been published by Dr LeuiTS iu London, in 1753, under the title of the New Dispensatory, but the advancement of chemistry- and pluirmacy since that period, had rendered a complete revision of it absolutely necessary. This task, which required no ordinarj- extent and variety of know- ANDREW DUNCAN, Jun., M.D. 177 lodge, and no slight assiduity, lie executed with so much skill, judgment, and lidelity, that his work, imiuediately on publication, commanded the most exten- sive popularity, and be('eiscvering in delivering his lectures until nearly the end of the session, lie took to his bed in April 1832, and having endured a lingering illness, during which he displayed ail that patience and moral courage which are characteristic of a highly -gifted mind, he died on the 13th of the following 3Iay, in the 5Sth year of his age. His funeral, according to his own direc- tions, was intended to be strictly private ; but the membei-s of numerous insti- tutions, anxious to show their atiection for his memory, met in the burial ground to attend the obsequies of their lamented friend. Great energy and activity of mind, a universality of genius that made every subject, from the most abstruse to the most trivial, alike familiar to him, and a devoted love of science, which often led him to prefer its advancement to the establishment of his own fame, were his distinguishing traits. So well was he known and appreciated on the continent, that he received, unsolicited on his part, honorary degrees and other distinctions from the most famous universities ; and few foreigners of distinction visited Edinburgh without bringing introduc- tions to him. He had the honour of being in the habit of correspondence with many of the most distinguished pereons in Europe, whether celebrated for high rank, or superior mental endowments. He had a great taste for the fine arts in general, and for music in particular ; and from his extensive knowledge of languages, was well versed in the literature of many nations. His manners . Avere free from pedanti-y or ad'ectation, and ^vere remarkable for that unobtru- siveness which is often the peculiar characteristic of superior genius. He pos- sessed a delicacy of feeling and a sense of honour and integrity amounting, in the estimation of many, to fastidiousness, but which were the elements of his moral character. He was indeed as much an ornament to private as to public life. Among his contributions to medical science deserving especial notice may be enumerated his experiments on Peruvian bark, whereby he discovei'ed cinchonin, and paved the way for the discovery of the vegetable alkaloids, which has so essentially contributed to the advancement of phannaceutic science ; his exam- ination of the structure of the heart and the complicated course of its fibres ; his paper on ditluse inflammation of the cellular tissue ; and more recently his Experiments on Medicine, communicated to the royal society of Edinburgh so late as December 1830. In addition to these, and besides the numerous essays written in his own journal, he contributed to the Edinburgh lieview the crticles on the Pharmacopoeia of the Royal College of Physicians— on Vaccinatioa — and on Dr Thomson's System of Chemistry ; and to the Supplement of tho Eacyelopedia Britannica those on Aqua Toffana, Digestion, and Food. DUNCAN, Wu,LiAM, a learned writer, was born at Aberdeen, in July, 1717. He was the son of William Duncan, a tradesman in that city, and of Euphenn'a Kirkwood, the daughter of a farmer in Haddingtonshire. He i-eceived the rudiments of his education partly at the gi-ammar school of Aberdeen, and part- ly at a boarding school at Foveran, kept by a Mr George Forbes. In 1733 3Ir Duncan entered the 3Iarischal college at Aberdeen, and applied himself particulai-ly to the study of Greek, under Di- Elackwell. At the end of the i.sual course, he took the degree of 31. x\. His fii-st design was to become a clergyman ; but, after studying divinity for two years, he abandoned the in- tention, and, removing to London, became a writer for the press. 'Ihe gi-eater part of his literary career was of that obscure kind which rather supplies the Avants of the day, than stores up fame for futurity. Translations from the I'rench were among his mental exertions, and he was much beloved and re- spected by the other literary men of his day, especially those who were of the same nation with himself, such as George Lewis Scott and Dr Armstrong. 180 DUNDASSES OF ARNISTON. The principal work of Mr Duncan wns his translation of select orations of Cicero, which is still a book of standard excellence, and constantly used in our schools. He contributed the department of Logic to " IMr Uodsley's 31odern Preceptor," whicli appeared in 1718, and was one of the most useful an illo. DuNDAS, Robert, of Arniston, lord president of the court of session, the eldest son of the first lord president Dundns, by Elizabeth, \as accus- tomed to return many of the briefs which were sent to him ; confining his prac- tice to noted cases, or such as excited ^eneral interest. In this manner, with- 184 DUNDASSES OF ARNISTON. out undergoing the usual drudgery of the bar, lie acquired a degree of celebrity and distinction, wiiich opened to him, at a period remai'kably early in his career, the higliest honours of his profession. In September 1742, when he had just entered Iiis tweiity-ninlii year, lie was appointed solicitor-general for Scotland. He had obtained this appointment under the Carteret administration, and therefore, in 17 Ki, \vhen the relham party gained tbe ascendancy, he re- ! signed this office along with the ministry ; but in the same year, ( as had hap- pened to his father under similar circumstances,) he was honoured by one of the i strongest marks of admiration which his brethren at the bar could confer ; hav- ing been, at the early age of thirty-three, elected dean of the faculty of advo- j cates ; \vliich offii;e lie continued to hold until the year 1760, when he was I elevated to the bench. I In the beginning of the year 1754, Mr Dundas was returned to parliament I as member for the county of Edinburgh, and in the following summer he was appointed lord advocate for Scotland. During the rancorous contention of par- i ties which at that time divided the country, it was scarcely possible to escape I obloquy, and 3Ir Dundas shared in the odium cast upon the rest of his party by the j opposition ; but it may be truly affirmed of liiin, that in no instance did he swerve I ftvm his principles, or countenance a measure which he did not believe to be i conducive to the general welfare of the country. He suffered much in tiie I opinion of a numerous party in Scotland on account of his strenuous opposition I to the embodying of the militia in that pavt of the kingdom. The alarm of in- vasion from France, occasioned by the small expeditions which sometimes I threatened our coasts, had led to numerous meetings throughout the country to petition parliament in favour of the establisiiment of a militia force for the de- fence of Scotland. There were cogent reasons, however, why these petitions should not be acceded to. The country was still in a very unimproved condi- tion ; agricultui'e neglected, and manufactures in their infancy ; while the in habitants were as yet but little accustomed to the trammels of patient industry. In such circumstances, to put arms into their hands had a tendency to revive that martial spirit which it was the great object of government to repress. The embodying of tlie militia was farther objectionable, inasmuch as the disaffected partisans of the Stuart family, although subdued were by no means reconciled to the family of Hanover ; and, therefore, to arm the militia, would have been in effect s'^ far to counteract tlie wise measure of disarming the Highlanders, Avhich bad proved so efficacious in tranquilizing the northern districts of the kingdom. Mr Dundas's opposition to the proposal for embodying a militia in Scotland was thus founded on grounds of obvious expediency ; any risk of foreign invasion being more than counterbalanced by the still greater evil of a domestic force on which government could not implicitly rely, and \vhich might by possibility have joined rather than opposed the invaders. 'Ihe lesson taught by tlie rebel- lion in Ireland, in 1797, has since illustrated the danger of trusting arms in the hands of the turbulent and disaffected, and has fully established the wisdom of Mr Dundas's opposition to a similar measure in Scotland. On the Mth of June, 17G0, 3Ir Dundas was appointed lord president of the court of session, the highest judicial office in Scotland. When he received this appointment, some doubts were entertained how far, notwithstanding his acknowledged and great abilities, he possessed that power of application, and that measure of assiduity which are the first requisites for the due discharge of the duties of the high office he filled. Fond of social intercourse, and having risen to eminence as a lawyer by the almost unassisted strength of his natural talents, he had hitherto submitted with reluctance to the labour of his profes- bioii. J'ut it speedily became evident, that one striking feature in his cluiracter DUNDASSES OF ARNI6T0N. I8j had remained undeveloped ; for ho had no sooner taken Ins seat as president ihan ho devoted liimself to the duties of his ofiice uith an ardour which had been rarely exhibited by the ablest and most diligent of his predecessors ; and with a pei-severance which continued unabated until his death. So unwearied and anxious was his applicpropriately close this imperfect sketch, than by subjoining the testimony borne to the higli talents and many virtues of president Dundas, in the funeral sermon preached on tlie Sunday following his interment. " But by us, my brethren," the preacher observed, " he was known for other virtues. The public liave lost a father and friend. We saw him in the more private walks of life, and experienced the u.irmth of his attachment, or the blessings of his protection. The same ardour of mind that marked his public character, descended with him to his retirement, to enliven his devotion, and prompt his benevolence. Attached to the ordinances of religion, and active in his duties as a member of the church, he was studious to give you, in this holy place, an ex- ample of that public reverence which is due from all to the Father of their spi- rits. Hospitable in his disposition, attentive in his manner, lively in his con- vei'sation, and steady in his friendships, he was peculiarly formed to secure the esteem of his acquaintance, and to promote the intercourse of social life. 'Die poor, who mourn for his loss, and his domestics, who have grown old in his service, testify the general humanity of his mind. But his family alone, and those who have seen him mingling with them in the tenderness of domestic en- dearment, knew the warmth of his paternal affections." — "Such were the quali- ties that adorned the illustrious judge whose death we now deplore. If he had his failings, (and the lot of humanity, alas ! was also liis,) they were the failings of a great mind, and sprang fronj the same impetuosity of temper which was the source of his noblest virtues. But they are now gone to the drear abode of for- getfulness ; while his better qualities live in the hearts of the good, and \rill descend in the records of fame, to rouse tlie emulation of distant ages." President Dundas was twice married, first to Henrietta, daughter of Sir James Carmichael Baillie, of Lamington, Jiart., by whom he left four daughters ; and secondly, 7th Septennber, 1756, at I'restongTange, to Jane, daughter of William Grant of Prestongrange, an excellent man, and good lawyer, who rose to the bench under the title of lord Frestongi-angc. By his second lady he left four sons and two daughters, of whom Robert, the eldest son, was successively lord advocate .ind lord chief baron of the court of exchequer in Scotlas d. Dundas, Fobert, of Arniston, lord chief baron of the court of exchequer, eldest son of the second lord president Dundas, by Miss Grant, youngest daugh- ter of William Grant, lord Prestongrange, was born on the 6th of June, 17 5d. Like his distinguished predecessors, he ivas educated for the legal profession, and became a member of the faculty of advocates in the year 1779. When I^ir (afterwards Sii- Hay) Campbell was promoted to the office of lord advocate, IMr Dundas, at a very early age, succeeded him as solicitor general ; and afterwards in 178y, on Sir Hay's elevation to the president's chair, IMr Dundas, at tiie age of 31, was appointed lord advociite. This office he held for twelve years, dur- ing which time he sat in parliament as member for the county of Edinburgh : and on the resignation of chief baron Montgomery in the year 1801, he was appointed his successor. ]Mr Dundas sat as chief baron until witliin a short time of Ids death, which happened at Arniston, on the 17ih of June, 1819, in the G2nd year of his age. He had previously resigned his office, and it hap- pened that Sir Samuel Shepherd, wiio succeeded him, took his seat on the bendi on the day on ^vhich 31 r Dundas died. Witliout those striking and more brilliant talents for which his father and grandfather were distinguished, chief baron Dundas, in addition to excellent abilities, possessed, in an eminent degree, tlie graces of mildness, moderation^ and artability ; and descended to the grave, it is believed, more universally DUNDASSES OF ARNISTON, 187 lovetl and laiueiitetl, tliau any preceding' nicniher of his family. This is the more remarkable, uhen it is borne in mind that he held the responsible oHice of lord advocate during a period of unexampled difficulty, and of great political ex- citement and asperity. J lis popularity, however, was not attributable to any want of firmness and resolution in the discharge of his public duties ; but arose in a great measure, from his liberal toleration for diii'erence in political opinion, at a time when that virtue was rare in Scotland ; and from his mild and gentle- manlike deportment, which was calculated no less to disarm his political oppo- nents, than to endear him to his friends. It would have been impossible, per- haps, for any one of his professional contemporaries to have been the immediate agent of government in the trials of Muir, Skirving, and Palmer, without creat- ing infinite public odium. As chief baron, 3Ir Dundas was no less estimable. The Scottish court of ex- chequer never opened a very extensive field for the display of judicial talent ; but wherever, in the administration of the business of that court, it appeared that the offender had erred from ignorance, or from misappi'ehension of the revenue statutes, we found the chief baron disposed to mitigate the rigour of the law, and to interpose his good offices on behalf of the suffei-er. It was in pi-i- vate life, however, and within the circle of his own family and friends, that the virtues of this excellent man were chiefly conspicuous, and that his loss was most severely felt. Of him it may be said, as was emphatically said of one of his brethren on the bench — " he died, leaving no good man his enemy, and attend- ed with that sincere regret, which only those can hope for, who have occupied the like importr.nt stations, and acquitted themselves so well." Chief baron Duncbis married his cousin-german, the honourable Miss Dundas, daughter of Henry, the first lord viscount iMelville, by whom he left three sons, and two daughters ; Robert, an advocate, and his successor in the estate of Ar- niston ; Henry, an officer in the navy ; and William Fitt. His eldest daughtet is the wife of John Borthwick, esq. of Crookston. Dundas, David, general Sir, was born near Edinburgh, about the year 1735. His father, who was a respectable merchant in Edinburgh, was of the family of Duudas of Dundas, the head of the name in Scotland ; by the mother's side he «as related to the first lord 31elville. This distinguished member of a great family had commenced the study of medicine, but changing his intentions, he entered the army in the year 175-2, under the auspices of his uncle, general David Watson. This able officer had been appointed to make a survey of the Highlands of Scotland, and he was engaged in planning and inspecting the mili- Uiry roads through that part of the country. While engaged in this arduous un- dertaking, he chose young Dundas, and the celebrated general Roy, afterwards quarter-master-general in Great Britain, to be his assistants. To this appoint- ment was added that of a lieutenancy in the engineers, of which his uncle was at that time senior captain, holding the rank of lieutenant-colonel in the army. In the year 175'J, Dundas obtained a troop in the regiment of light horse raised by colonel Elliot, and with that gallant coi-^js, he embarked for Germany, where he acted as aid-de-camp to colonel Elliot- In that capacity he afterwards accompanied general Elliot in the expedition sent out in the year 176-3, under the command of the earl of Albemarle, against the Spanish colonies in the ^V est Indies. On the -2Sth 31ay, 1770, he was promoted to the majority of the 15th dragoons, and from that corps he was removed to the 2nd regiment of horse on the Irish establishment, of which he obtained the lieutenant-colonelcy. It was to the ministerial influence of general Watson that colonel Dundas owed his rapid promotion ; and he now obtained, through the same interest, a Btair appointment as quarter-master-general in Irelan«l. He was also allowed to 188 DUiNDASSES OF ARXISTON. sell his commission in the dra«foons, and at the same time to retain his rank in the amiv. He afterwards exchanged his appointment for that of adjutant-gen- eral, and in I7"3l he was promoted to the rank of colonel. Shortly after the peace of 17 S3, Frederick king of Prussia having ordered a grand review of the whole forces of l:is kingdom, the attention of military men throughout Kurope was attracted to a scene so splendid. Amongst others, colo- nel Dundas, having obtained leave of absence, repaired to the plains of Pots- dam, and by observation and reflection on what he there saw, he laid the foun- dation of that perfect knowledge of military tactics, which he afterwards pub- lished under the title of " Principles of ^lilitary 3Iovements, chiefly applicable to Infantry." In the year 1790, colonel Dundas was promoted to the rank of major-general, and in the following yeai-, he was appointed colonel of the 22nd regiment of infanti-)-, on which he resigned the adjutant-generalship of Ireland. Previous to the publication of general Dundas' woi-k on militarj- tactics, the military manteuvres of the army were regulated by each succeeding commander- in-chief : while even the manual exercise of the soldier varied with the fancy of the commanding officer of the regiment. The disadvantages attending so ir- regular a system is obvious : for when two i-egiraents were brought into the same garrison or camp, they could not act together until a temporary uniformity of exercise had been established. To remedy these defects in our tactics, his ma- jesty, George III., to whom general Dundas' work was dedicated, ordered regulations to be drawn up from his book, for the use of the army ; and accord- ingly in June, 1792, a system was promulgated, under the title of" Kules and Regulations for the formations, field-exercises, and movements of his 3Iajest)'3 forces; with an injunction that the system should be strictly followed and ad- hered to, without any deviation whatsoever : and such orders as are formed to interfere with, or counteract their effects or operation, are considered hereby cancelled and annulled." " The Rules and Regulations for the Cavalry "' were also planned by general Dundas. It is therefore to him that we are indebted for the first and most important steps which were taken to bring the British army to that high state of discipline which now rendei^s it the most efficient army in Europe. At the connnencement of the late war, general Dundas was put on the staff', and in autumn 1793, he \\as sent out to conmiand a body of troops at Toulon. M hile on this senice, he was selected to lead a force ordered to dislodge the Frencli from the heights of Arenes, which commanded the town ; and although he succeeded in driving the enemy from their batteries, still the French were too strong for the number of British employed in the service, and he was ulti- mately driven back ; and Toulon being consequently deemed untenable, lord Hood judged it prudent to embark the troops and sail for Corsica. Soon after the expedition had etlected a Landing in tliat island, some misunderstanding having arisen between general Dundas and admiral Hood, the former returned iiome. General Dundas immediately returned to the continent, and served under the duke of York in Holland ; and in the brilliant action of the 10th of May, 1794, at Tournay, he greatly distinguished himself. During the unfortunate retreat of the British army, which ended in the evacuation of the Dutch terri- tory, general Dundas acted with much skill and great gallantly, and on the re- turn of general Harcourt to England, the conmiand of the British army devolved upon him. Having wintered in the neighbourhood of Bremen, he embarked the reuniant of the nritish forces on board the fleet on the 14th of April, 1795, and returned home. DUNDASSES OF ARNISTON. 189 111 December, 1795, general Dundas was removed from the command of the 22d foot, to that of the 7th dragoons. He was also appointed governor of Languard-fort, and on the resignation of general 3Iorrison, he was nominated »juarter-master-general of the British army. In the expedition to Holland in the year 1799, general Dundas was one of the general officers selected by the commander-in-chief; and he had his full share in the actions of that unfortunate campaign. On the death of Sir Ralph Abercrombie, general Dundas succeeded him in the command of the 2d North British dragoons, and also in the government of Forts George and Augustus. In the summer of 1801, he was second in command of the fine army of 25,000 men, which assembled in Bagshot heath ; and made uncommon exer- tions to bring it to the high state of discipline which it displayed on the day it >vas reviewed before his nuijesty, George III., and the royal family. On the 12th of 3Iarch, 1803, he resigned the quarter-master-generalship, and was put on the staff as second in command under the duke of York, when his majesty invested him with tlie riband of the order of the Bath. In the year 180-i, he was appointed governor of Chelsea Hospital, and on the 1st June of that year, he, along with many others, was installed as a knight of the Bath in Henry VII.'s chapel. On the ISth of 3Iarch, 1809, he succeeded the duke of York as commander-in-chief of the forces, which high appointment he held for two years. He was made a member of the privy council and colonel of the 95th regiment. The last of the many marks of royal favour conferred on him, Avas the colonelcy of the I st di'agoon guards. General Dundas died on the 18th of February, 1820, and was succeeded in his estates by his nephew, Sir Robert Dundas of Beech wood, Bart. Dundas, the right honourable Henry, viscount Melville and baron Dun- ira, was born in the year 1741. He was the son of the first, and brother to the second, Robert Dundas of Arniston, each of whom held the high office of lord president of the court of session. His father's family, as has been men- tioned in the notice of Sir James Dundas of Arniston, derived their origin from the very ancient family of Dundas of Dundas ; his mother was the daughter of iSir Robert Gordon of luveigordon, Bart. After receiving the preliminarj- branches of education at the high school and university of Edinbui'gh, and having gone through the usual coui-se of legal study, 31r Dundas was admitted a member of the faculty of advocates in the year 1763. It is related of him that after paying the expenses of his education and his admission to the faculty, he had just sixty pounds of his patrimony remaining. He commenced his profes- sional career in chambers situated at the head of the Flesh-market close of Edinburgh ; and such was the moderate accommodation of Scottish lawyei-s in those days, that his rooms did not even front the High street. The meanness of his apartments, however, is to be attributed rather to the habits of the times, and the state of Edinburgh, than to pecuniary obstacles, or to any distrust of success; for the member of a family so well connected in the country, and so highly distinguished in the courts before which 3Ir Dundas proposed to practise, enjoyed every advantage which a young lawyer could have desired as an intro- duction to his profession. In 3Ir Dundas these i*ecominendations were happily combined with great talents and persevering application to business ; so that, although he did not resist the temptations to gaiety and dissipation which beset him, he on no occasion allowed the pursuit of ple.isure or amusement, to inter- fere w ith the due discharge of his professional duties. Nor did he lose any op- portunity which presented itself of cultivating his oratorio^il powers. With that view he early availed himself of the opening afforded for that species of display, in the annual sittings of tiie general assembly of the diurch of Scotland. Ab a 190 DUNDASSES OF ARXISTON. lay member of tliat venerable body, 3Ir Dundns jnTe a foietaste of iliat nianly eloquent-e and address, Mhioh in after life rendered him the able coadjutor of Mr Pitt in the management of the house of commons during a period of unex- ampled dijfii.ulty. ilie first official appointment which Mr Dundas held, >vas tliat of one of the assessors to the inaeistrates of the city of Edinburgh. He was afterwards de- pute-advocate, tliat is, one of the three or four barristers who. by delegation from the lord advocate, prepare indictments, attend criminal trials, both in Edinburgh and on the circuits of the high court of justiciary : and in general, discharge, under the lord advocate, his function of public prosecutor. The of- fice of solicitor eeneral for Scotland, was the next step in 3Ir Dund- British subject the means of pursuing witli success those objects of honour, and those situations of power, the attainment of which, in other countries, rest solely upon a partial participation of personal favour, and the enjoyment of which rests upon the precarious tenure of arbitrary- power. It is impossible to look round to any quarter without seeing splendid examples of the truth of this remark." On 3Ir Pitt resuiuinj the premiership in 1504, lord 3Ielville wtis appointed first lord of the admiralty- : but tliis important office he did not long enjoy. The earl of St Vincent, his predecessor at the head of the admiralty, had ob- tained the appointment of a commission of inquiry to investigate certain sus- pected abuses in the naval department of the public service. That commission, in their tenth report, implicated lord 3Ielville, while he held the treasurership of the nary-, in a breach of the statute which he had himself introduced in 17 S5; whereby the treasurer of the nary- was prohibited from converting to his o^-n use or emolument, any jmrt of tlie public money voted for the senice of the na>-y-. This report led to an unsatisfactory correspondence between lord Melville and the commissioners; and on the Sth of April, l^05, 31r Whitbread brouffht the matter under the notice of the house of commons. After a speech full of violent invective, that sreutleman moved thirteen resolutions, to the etTect generally, that lord 3Ielville had been guilty of gross malversation, and breach of duty, in so far as he had misapplied or misdirected certain sums of public money, and had also in violation of the act of parliament, retained in his pos- session, or authorized his confidential agent. IMr .\Iexander Trotter, who held the office of jviymaster of the narj-. to retain, and to speculate in the funds, and discount private bills with the balances of the public money, voted for the ser- vice of tlie navy, in the profits of >\hich transactions lord IVIelville had partici- pated, 3Ir Pitt, alter an eloquent and able defence of lord IMelviUe, concluded by movinsr as an amendment, that the tenth report be referred to a select com- mittee of the house. He was replied to by lord Henry- Petty, now lord Lans- downe, 3Ir Fox, and other leading members of the whig party : and the result nas, that iu a very full house (433), the original resolutions were carried by the speaker's casting vote. The debate was then adjourned to the 10th of April, 1S05, on which day 31r Pitt announced to the house on its meeting, that in consequence of the vote of the former evening, lord Melville had resigned the office of first lord of the admir.-dtv. 3Ir Whitbread then delivered another vituperative speech, and con- cluded by inovini that an address should be presented to the king, praying tliat lord 3Ielviile miffht be dismissed " from all offices held by him during pleasure, and from his maiestys council and presence for ever." 3Ir Canning, who at that time held the office of treasurer of the na^-y-, deprecated the rancour with which the whig party were pri>ceeding. — He contrasted their conduct with that of lord 3Ielville himself, when lord Grey and the earl of St Vincent were on their trial before the house, under sinular circmustances, upon which occasion, lord 3Ielville, although the political opponent of these noblemen, had strenu- ously defended tliem ; while he, " so far from experiencing equal generosity. DUNDASSES OF ARNISTON. 197 was now persecuted nnil hunted down ; and by \vlioin ? by the friends of lord Grey and earl St Vincent ! Ho congratulated the gentlemen on their sense» true spirit, and virtue ; and prayed God Almighty to forbid that he should ever imitate their example." Tlie debate concluded by a vote that a copy of the resolutions of the 8th of April should be laid before his majesty by the whole house. Some discussion afterwards took place as to the ulterior measures to be adopted against lord IMelville and Mr Trotter, in the course of which, the same extiMordinary acrimony was displayed ; and on the 6th of May, JVIr Pitt intimated that his majesty had been advised, in deference to the prevailing sense of the house, to strike the name of lord Melville out of the list of the privy council, and that accordingly, it would be erased, on the first day on which a council should be held. In making this conununication, Mr Pitt ap- peared to be deeply affected ; but no sympathy was shown on the opposition benches. On the contrary, it is impossible to deny, that relentless exultation over the expected downfall of an illustrious public servant, and a total disregard for the feelings of his friend the premier, were too prominently nuvnifested by the whig party, on that, as on every other occasion on which this painful subject was before the house. On the 11th of June, the speaker stated that he had received a letter from lord Melville, announcing his readiness to attend and be examined relative to tlie tenth report He was thereupon admitted, and a chair placed for hira within the bar ; when he entered upon a concise vindication of his conduct ; declaring his entire ignorance of Mr Trotter's speculations with the public mo- ney, either in the funds, or as a pi'ivate banker ; denied all connivance at the violation of the statute 25th George HI., relative to the money voted to the navy ; and solemnly asserted, that on no occasion whatever, had he authorized IMr Trotter to draw money from the bank for his own private emolument ; — the only object in allowing him to lodge money with private bankers having been to facilitate the public payments. In short, lord Melville gave those ex- planations of his conduct which were afterwards triumphantly established on his trial, by evidence. But, as may be easily believed, they did not, at this time, satisfy his opponents ; and after a protracted debate, and more than one divi- sion adverse to the whig party, it was at last resolved, that the mode of proce- dure should be Tiy impeaching his lordship at the bar of the house of lords, of high crimes and misdemeanours. On the 26th of June, a committee of twenty- one members was appointed to prepare articles of impeachment : — IMr Whit- bread's name being placed at the head. Among the members of this committee were Mr Fox, Mr Grey (late eai'I Grey), Mr Sheridan, lord Archibald Hamil- ton, and other leaders of the party. The committee on the 4th of ]\Iarch, lb06, made a report to the house, of certain new information which had come to their knowledge; and the result of the debate which ensued, was an additional ar- ticle of impeachment. To this new article lord Melville was of course allowetl to put in a replication ; and the preliminaries being at length adjusted, the house of lords fixed the 29th of April, 1806, for the trial. This imposing exhibition was conducted with the customary pomp and solem- nity. Westminster hall Avas, as usual, fitted up for the occasion; and the no- bility, including the princes of the blood, having taken their places in the full robes of their respective ranks, this tribunal, the most august and venerable in the world, proceeded to the discharge of their high duty. The articles of im- peachment resolved into ten charges, of which the following is the substance. — I. That lord Melville, while treasurer of the navy, prior to January, 1786, fraudulently applied to his own use, or at least mis-directed, and would not ex- plain how, £10,000, of the money which ciune into his hands as treasurer ol 198 dundassp:s of aumisxon. the navy. — 2. That, in violation of the act of parliament already mentioned, he jiermitted Mr Trotter to draw large sinns from the money issued to the treasurer for tlie use of the navy, and to place it in the banking house of Rlessrs Coutts and Co. in his (Mr Trotter's) own name. — 3. That while he held the office of treasurer of the navy, and after the passing of the foresaid act, he permitted -Mr Trotter to draw large sums of money from the treasurer's public account, kept with the bank of England, under the said statute, and to place those sums in 3Ir Trotter's individual account with Coutts and Co., for purposes of private euiolument. — t. That after the lOtli of January, 178G, and while treasurer of tlie navy, he fraudulently, and illegally, and for his own private advantage, or emolument, took from the public money, set apart for the use of the navy, ;£■! 0,000; and that he and Mr Trotter, by mutual agi-eement, destroyed the vouchers of an account current kept between them, in order to conceal the ad- vances of money made by Mr Trotter to him, and the account or considerations on which such advances wei-e made. — 5. That whilst 3Ir Trotter was thus ille- gally using the puljlic money, ho made, in part therefrom, several large ad- vances to lord Melville, and destroyed the vouchers, as aforesaid, in order to con- ceal the fact. — 6. That in particular, he received an advance of £22,000, without interest, partly from the public money, illegally in Mr Trotter's hands, and partly from Mr Trotter's own money in the hands of Messrs Coutts, and destroyed the vouchei-s as aforesaid. — 7. That he received an advance of £22,000 from JMr Trotter, for which, as alleged by himself, he was to pay interest ; for concealing wliich transaction the vouchers were destroyed as aforesaid. — 8. That during all, or the greater part of the time that he was treasui-er, and Mr Trotter pay- master of the navy, Mr Trotter gxatuitously transacted his (lord Melville's) private business, as his agent, and from time to time advanced him from £10,000, to £20,000, taken partly from the public money, and partly from Mr Trotter's own money, lying mixed together indiscriminately in Blessrs Coutts' hands ; whereby lord Melville derived profit from Mr Trotter's illegal acts. — 9. That 3Ir Trotter so acted gratuitously as lord Melville's agent, in consideration of his connivance at the foresaid illegal appropriations of the public money ; nor could 3Ir Trotter, as lord Melville knew, have made such advances otherwise than from the public money at his disposal by his lordship's connivance, and with his permission. — 10. That lord IMelville, while treasurer of the navy, at divoi-s times between the years 1782, and 178G, took from the moneys paid to him as treasurer of the navy, £27,000, or thereabouts, which sum he illegally applied to his own use, or to some purpose other than the service of the navy ; and continued this fraudulent and illegal conversion of the public money, after the passing of the act for regulating the office of treasurer of the navy. The charges, of which the above is an abstract, having been read, Mr Whit- bread, as leading manager for the house of connnons, opened the case in an elaborate speech, in which he detailed, and commented on, the evidence which the man.agers proposed to adduce. This was followed by the examination of witnesses in support of the several charges ; the chief witness being Mr Trotter himself, in whose favour an act of indemnity had been passed, in order to qual- ify him to give his testimony with safety. The examination of the witnesses in support of the charges occupied nearly nine days. On the tenth day of the trial, Sir Sanuiel Romilly, one of the managers, gave a summary of what, as he maintained, had been proved, lie was followed by IMr Plomer, the leading counsel for lord IMelville, who opened the defence in a speech of distinguished ability, the delivery of which occupied two days. The substixnce of the defence was, that lord 3Ielville, so far from being accessory to, or conniving at, Mr Trotter's appropriation of the public money, Avas entirely ignorant of these irre- DUNDASSES 01' AIINISTON. 199 gular practices. As to the £10,000, it was admitted to have been diverted from the service of the navy, and used in anotlier department of the puhlic service, but tl»is was prior to the passing of the foresaid act, when sirch a proceeding was perfectly lawful and customary ; and at any rate, no part of that sum was ap- plied either directly or indirectly to the individual profit or advantage of lord Melville. Mr Plomer farther showed, that lord 3Ielville had been remarltablc dui-ing his whole life for his carelessness about money, and for his superiority to all mercenai-y motives — that while he held the office of treasurer of the navy, he had voluntarily relinquished tlie salary attached to the office of secretary of state, to tlie aggregate amount of £31,730, being a sum exceeding the whole of the public money which he was said to have misapplied — that if there had been any irregularity ac all, it was imputable solely to Mr Trotter, and perhaps, to a slight degree of laxity on the part of lord JMelville, whose attention was distracted by many engrossing and more important public duties. Witnesses were then called to prove that lord Melville had voluntarily relinquished, for the benefit of the l>ublic, £8,648, 13s. 2d., in the home department, and £26,081, 7s. 5d. in the war department, making a total of £34,730, Os. 7d.; and the case on the part of the defendant was then concluded by a very able speech from IMr Adam, afterwards lord chief commissioner of the jury court in Scotland. Sir Arthur Piggot, on the part of the managers of the house of commons, replied at some length to the legal arguments of Messrs Plomer and Adam, and IMr Whitbread closed the case by a reply upon the evidence, in the course of which he resumed the invec- tive and sarcasm against lord 3Ielville, which had distinguished liis opening speech, as well as all his speeches on this subject in the house of commons. It would seem, however, if we are to judge from the result, that either his sarcasm or his arguments had by this time lost their efficacy. After a few words from 3Ir Plomer, the peers adjourned, and having met again, after an interval of nearly a month, on the 10th of June, to determine on lord Melville's guilt or innocence, he was acquitted of every charge by ti'iumphant majorities. On the 4th charge in particular, which concerned the sum of £10,000, alleged to have been applied by lord Melville for his own advantage or emolument, their lord- ships were unanimous in their acquittal ; and in general the majorities were very Large on all the chai'ges which imputed corrupt or fi-audulent intentions to lord Melville. The votes on the several chai-ges were as follow :— Guilty Not Guilty. Majarity. First charge, . . . . 16 . . . . 119 . . . .103 Second charge, . . . 66 . . 79 .23 Third charge, .... 52 . ... 83 ' .31 Fourth charge, . . . None . . All — Fifth charge, .... 4 .... 131 . . . 127 Sixth charge, . . . 48 . . . 87 . . . 39 Seventh cliarge, ... 50 .... 85 ■ . 35 Eighth charge, ... 14 ... 121 .107 Ninth charge, ... 16 .... 119 103 Tenth charge, ... 12 ... 123 111 The tlukes of York, Cumberland, and Cambridge, generally voted not guilt//. The dukes of Clarence, Kent, and Sussex, guilty, except of the 4th charge. The lord chancellor, Erskine, generally voted with the dukes of Clarence, Kent, and Sussex. The prince of Wales was not present. On looking back dispassionately to the whole of this proceeding, it is impos- sible not to be struck with the rancour with which it was chara<;terized. Had lord Melville been a rapacious and mercenary peculator, enriching himself at 200 DUNDASSES OF ARNISTON. I the public expense; or a rindirtive political partisan, and otiierwise iindistin- I I ; giiished, we might hare found some excuse for the uncompromising course adopted. But the reverse of all that was tlie fact. He was confessedly a gene- rous and hign-minded competitor in the great game of politics ; incapable of pecuniai-)- meanness — impoverished rather than enriched by his connexion with liie state, and the consequent expense in which it involved him; — and above all, he was, by the admission even of his enemies, a most meritorious public servant, who, during a long and laborious official career, had conferred great and lasting benefits on his country. On this last point we can have no better testimony than that of 3Ir Whitbread himself, who, on tliis very trial, was con- strained, in common justice, to admit, — " that, during the time lord 31elville was treasurer of the nav^,-, several most beneficial regulations took place in his office, and several acts were passed for the protection and defence of those who were before unprotected and defenceless. The widows and orphans of those gallant sons of the empire, who were fighting the battles of their country, were the objects of his peculiar care, and a number of lives were preserved by his prudent and jjenerous interposition. However detectable tlie crime may be, it liad been a conmion practice to forge the wills of those who fell in the defence of the state, and this atrocious conduct, and its pernicious consequences, have been, in a great degree, prevented by the s;ilutary plans recommended by the defendant ; for which he deserves the thanks of the British people." 31r Whit- bread might easily have extended his eulog)- to the defendant's public conduct as president of the board of control, as home secretary, as secretary- of state for the war department, and finally to his patriotic exertions for the improvement of his native counti-^" of Scotland. Yet such was the man, who, after having been held up to popular execration, in vague and declamator)- speeches in pai-lianient, was brought to his trial la- bouring not only under the odium and prejudice thus excited, but actuaUy pun- ished before trial ; for it never can be forgotten, that his accusers, before attempting to prove the charges, in the proof of w hich they ultimately failed, and even before putting him on his trial, had declared him incapable of public trust, and had succeeded in getting his name erazed from the list of the privy counciL In such circumstances of degradation and obloquy, with his cause to a certain extent prejudged, and almost overwhelmed by the weight and influence of his adversaries, his acquittal was indeed the triumph of justice, and a memor- able encomium on the impartiality of the august tribunal before which the trial proceeded. Nor is it necessar)- for lord IMelville's vindication from the gi-aver charges to deny that he was guilty of a certain degree of negligence. Undoubt- edly, amidst his midtifarious public avocations, he was not so vigilant in scruti- nizing 3Ir Trotter's money transactions, as in strictness he ought to have been. Cut such oversights are comparatively venial, and, in this instance, they were natural ; for, even before lord 3Ielville became treasurer of the nav^ , 31r Trot- ter was in a confidential public office. He afterwards rose by his own merits to a place of higher trust, and throughout, nothing liad occurred to excite sus- picion. Indeed, it is not tlie least remarkable feature of tliis prosecution, that it was never attempted to be shown, that the public liad lost one faiiliing by the supposed delinquencies of lord JMelville, or even by the admitted iiTegulaiities of 31r Trotter. To assert, however, tliat the investigation oiiginated mei-ely in factious or party motives, would be going be\ond the truth; but perhaps it may be now said without olTence, that the many disclamations of personal hos- tility, and the anxious professions of disinterested zeal lor the public service, which the accusei-s were in the daily habit of repeating during the whole pro- gress of the discussion, were found to be neceisnry, in order to counteract tlie DUNDASSES OF ARNISTON, 201 irrowing' suspicion, tli.it their zeal was stimulated by the prospect of supjilantiiijr, or at least displacing, a powerful and able political opponent, and perhaps paralysing the administration, of which he was so conspicuous a member. The pro<;eedings against lord 3Ielville made a deep impression on 3Ir Pitt, who unfortunately did not survive to congratulate him on his acquittal. Accord- ing to the author of the article " Great Britain^'' in the new edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica, Mr Pitt was thus deprived " of his only efficient coadjutor^ at a time when, from the magnitude of his public cares, he was more than ever in want of support. The consequent fatigue and anxiety made severe inroads on a constitution naturally not strong. His indisposition became appar- ent in the early part of the winter, and, on the meeting of parliament, it was understood to have reached a dangerous height. His (3Ir Pitt's) death took place on the 23d January, 1806." Soon after his acquittal, lord 31elville was restored to his place in the privy council ; but although the whig administration which was in power at the end of the trial, resigned within a few months, he never returned to office, 'ilie loss of his friend, 3Ir Pitt, and his own advanced age, rendered him little anxious to resume public life ; and thencefor\vai-d he lived chiefly in retirement ; taking part only occasionally in the debates of the house of lords. One of his last appearances was made in the year 1810, when he brought forward a motion recommending the employment of ai'med vessels, instead of hired transports, for the conveyance of troops. His death, which was very sudden, took place in Edinburgh, on the 27th of May, 1811. He died in the house of his nephew, lord chief baron Dundas, in George Square ; having come to Edinburgh, it is believed, to attend the funeral of his old friend, lord president Blair, who had been himself cut off no less suddenly, a few days before, and who lay dead in the house adjoining that in which lord 3Ielville expired. Lord IMelville's pei'son was tall, muscular, and well formed. His features were strongly marked, ,ind the general expi-ession of his face indicated high intellectual endowments, and gi'eat acuteness and sagacity. In public life, he was distinguished by his wonderful capacity for business; by unwearied atten- tion to his numerous official duties ; and by the manliness and sti'aightfor- wardness of his character. He was capable of great fatigue ; and, being an early riser, he was enabled to get through a great deal of business before he was interrupted by the bustle of official details, or the duties of private society. As a public speaker lie was clear, acute, and argumentative ; with the manner ot one thoroughly master of his subject, and desirous to convince the underetand- ing without the aid of the ornamental parts of oratory ; which he seemed, in some sort, to despise. In private life his manner was winning, agTeeable, and iViendly, with great frankness and ease. He was convivial in his hal)its, and, in the intercoui-se of private life, he never permitted party distinctions to interfere with the cordiality and kindness of his disposition ; hence, it has been truly said, that whig and tory agreed in loving him ; and that he was always happy to oblige those in common with whom he had any recollections of good humoured festivity. But perhaps the most remarkable peculiarity in his character, was his intimate and familiar acquaintance with the actual state of Scotland, and its inhabitants, and all their atl'airs. In Edinburgh, in particular, there was no person of considera- tion whose connections and concerns were not known to him. Amongst the anecdotes told of him, there is one which strikingly illustrates the natural kind- ness of his disposition, while, at the same time, it discloses one of the sources of his popularity. It is said, that, to the latest period of his life, whenever he came to Edinburgh, he made a point of visiting all the old ladies with whom II. * ^ 2c *= 202 DUNDASSES OF ARNISTON. he hatl been acquainted in liis early days; cliinbinnf, for this purpose, with un- wearying steps some of the tallest staircases in the old town. He was sagacious in the discernment of merit, and on many occasions showed a disinterested anxiety to promote the success of those he thought deserving. His public duties left hiui little time for the cultivation of literary pursuits, even had he been so inclined ; he frequently, however, proved himself a sincere but unostentatious patron of learning. In the earlier part of his life he enjoyed the esteem and friendship of Dr Robertson ; and lived on habits of great intimacy with Dr Hugh Blair, on whom he conferred several preferments. On the death of Dr Robertson, he obtained the office of historiographer for Scotland for Dr Gillies, the historian of Greece, whose merit he fully appreciated. He also increased the numbei of the royal chaplains in Scotland from six to ten, thus adding one or two additional prizes to the scantily endowed churcli establishment of Scotland. But lord Melville's gi-eat claim on the aflection and gi-atitude of Scotsmen is founded on the truly national spirit with which he promoted their interest, and the improvement of their country, whenever opportunities presented them- selves. We have seen of late a disposition to provincialize Scotland, (if we may so express ourselves,) and a sort of timidity amongst our public men, lest they should be suspected of showing any national predilections. Lord 3Ielville laboured under no such infirmity. Caeteris paribus he preferred liis own coun- trymen ; and the number of Scotsmen who owed appointments in India and else- where to him, and afterwards returned to spend their fortunes at home, have contributed in no inconsiderable degi'ee to the mai'ked improvement on the face of the country which has taken place during the last fifty years. Neither did he overlook the interest of those who remained at home. The abolition of the public boards, coui-ts, and other memorials, of the former independence of Scotland, had not occuiTed to the economists of lord 31elville's day. He acted, therefore, on the exploded, although by no means irrational, notion, that the community, generally, would derive benefit from the expenditui-e of the various resident functionaries, at that time connected with our national establishments. In all this he may have been wrong, although there are many who are still at a loss to perceive the error ; but however that may be, he must be but an indif- ferent Scotsman, be his political principles what they may, who can talk lightly of the debt wliich his country owes to lord 3Ielvillc. Indeed it is well known, tliat during his life, the services which he had rendered to this part of the island, were readily acknowledged even by those who differed most widely from Iiim on the general system of public policy in which he took so active a part. The city of Edinburgh contains two public monuments to lord 31elville's memory — the first, a marble statue, by Chantrey, which stands on a pedestal at the north end of the large hall of the parliament house. This statue, which is a remarlvably fine specimen of the artist's skill, was erected at the expense of gentlemen of the Scottish bar, in testimony of their respect for one who had in early life, been so distinguished a member of their body. Among the subscribers are to be found the names of many gentlemen who didered in politics from lord IMelville, but who esteemed him as a benefactor to his native country. The other monument is the column sin-mounted by a statue of his lordship, which adoNis the centre of St Andrew Square. 'Ihis tine pillar is copied from Tra- jan's column at Rome ; with this difference, that the shaft, in place of being ornamented with sculpture, is tluted. The entire lieight of the column and pedestal is 13() feet 4 inches. Ihe statue, which is of free-stone, and the work of the late Mr Forrest, the well-known sculptor, about 15 feet in heiglit, giving a total altitude of about 150 feet. Tlie expense of this erection was defrayed by WILLIAM DUNLOP. ^03 subscription, chiefly among gentlemen connected with the na^'j. The foun- dation stone was laid in April, 1821 ; the scatlolding removed in August, 1822, on the occasion of George IV. 's visit to Edinburgh, and the statue was put up in 1827. The architect was Mr William Burn of Edinburgh. Lord Melville was twice married ; first to 3Iiss Rannie, daughter of Captain Kannie of 3Ielville, with wliom he is said to have got a fortune of jt)100,000. Another of Captain Kannie's daughters was the wife of 31r Baron Cockburn of the Scottish court of exchequer, and mother to Henry Cockburn, Esq., now one of the lords of session. Lord Melville's second wife was lady Jane Hope, daughter of John and sister to James, earl of Hopctoun. Of his first marriage there were three daughters and one son ; of the second no issue. Lord Melville's lauded property in Scotland consisted of Melville Castle in Mid- Lothian and Dunira in rerthshire. He was succeeded in liis titles and estates by liis only son, the right lionourable Robert Dundas, the present lord Mel- ville, ^vho held tlie office of first lord of the admiralty under the administra- tions of the earl of Liverpool and of the duke of Wellington. Lord 3Ielville can hardly be said to have been an author, but he published the three subjoined political pamphlets, each of which was distinguished by his usual good sense and knowledge of business.' DUNLOP, William, principal of the university of Glasgow, and an eminent public character at the end of the seventeenth century, was the son of Mr Alex- ander Dunlop, minister v( Paisley, of the family of Auchenkeilh, in Ayrshire, by Elizabeth, daughter of William Mure of Glanderston. One of his mother's sisters was married to the Rev. John Carstairs, and became the mother of the celebrated principal of the college of Edinburgh ; another was the wife, succes- sively of 31r Zaciiary Boyd, and 3Ir James Durham. Being thus intimately connected with the clergy, William Dunlop early chose the church as his pro- fession. After completing his studies at the university of Glasgow, lie became tutor in the family of William, lord Cochrane, and superintended the education of John, second earl of Dundonald, and his brother, William Cochrane of Kil- marnock. The insurrection of 1679 took place about the time when he be- came a licentiate, and he warmly espoused the views of the moderate party in that unfortunate enterpi-ise. Though he was concerned in drawing up the Hamilton declaration, which embodied the views of his party, he appeai-s to liave escaped the subsequent vengeance of the government. Tired, however, like many othei's, of the hopeless state of things in his own country, he joined the emigi-ants w lio colonized the state of Cax'olina, and continued there till after the revolution, partly employed in secular, and partly in spiritual Avork. He had prenously married his cousin, Sarah Carstairs. On retinniing to Scotland in 1690, he was, through the influence of the Dundonald family, presented to the parish of Ochiltree, and a few months after, had a call to the church of Paisley. Ere he could enter upon this charge, a vacancy occun-ed in the prin- cipality of the univei'sity of Glasgow, to which he was preferred by king Wil- liam, November, 1690. 3Ir Dunlop's celebrity arises from the dignity and zeal with which he supported the interests of this institution. In 1692, he was an active member of the general correspondence of the Scottish universities, and in 1694, was one of a deputation sent by the church of Scotland, to con- gratuUite the king on his return from the continent, and negotiate with his ma- jesty certain affairs concerning the interest of the church. He seems to have participated considerably in the power and induence enjoyed by his distinguish- 1 The subst;mce of a spuech in the house of commons, on the British govenimeiit and trade in the East Indies, April 23, 1793, London, 1813, Svo. — Letter to the chairman of tlie court of directors of the East India Company, upon an open trade to India, London, 1813, 8vo.— Leltei-s to the right honourable Sptnser Purcival, relative to the establishment of a Naval Arsenal at Norlhtleet, London, 1810. 4to. 204 JOHN DE DUNS. ed brother-in-law, Carstairs, which, it is well known, was of a most exalteil, thoujrh irregular kind. In 16119, he arted as commissioner for all the five uni- versities, in eiiileavouring to obtain some assistance for those institutions. He succeeded in securing a yearly grant of £12(30 sterling, of which £300 was bestowed upon his own college. While exerting himself for the public, princi- pal Dunlop rt'oarded little his own immediate profit or advantage : besides his principalship, the situation of historiographer for Scotland, with a pension ot £40 a year, is stated to have been all that he ever personally experienced of the royal bounty. He died in middle life, .March, 1700, leaving behind him a most exalted ciiaracter : " his singular piety," says Wodrow, with whom he was connected by man-iage, ' great prudence, public spirit, univei-sal knowledge, general usefulness, and excellent temper, were so well known, that his death was as much lamented as perhaps any one man's in this church." Principal Dunlop left two sons, both of whom were distinguished men. Alexander, who w.as born in America, and died in 1742, was an eminent pro- fessor of Greek in the (Glasgow university, and autlior of a Greek Grammar long held in esteem. AVilliara was professor of divinity and churcli history in the university of Edinburgh, and published the \vell known collection of creeds and confessions, which appeared in 1719 and 1722 (two volumes), as a means ol cori-ecting a laxity of religious opinion, beginning at that time to be manifested by some respectable dissenters. To this work was prefixed an admirable essay on confessions, ^vhich has since been reprinted separately. Professor William Dunlop, after acquiring great celebrity, both as a teacher of theology and a preacher, died October 29th, 1720, at the early age of twenty-eight. DUNS, JoHX DE, (ScoTus,) that is, " John of Dunse, Scotsman," an eminent philosopher, was born in the latter pai-t of the thirteenth century. The thirteenth and part of the fourteenth centuries are distinguished, in the history of philosophy, as the scholastic acje, in which the Aiistotelian logic and metaphysics were employed, to an absurd and even impious degree, in de- monstrating and illustrating the truths of the Holy Scriptures. Among the many scholai-s of Europe, who, during this period, perverted their talents in the exposition of preposterous dogmas and the defence of a false system of philoso- phy, John de Dunse, called the Subtle Doctor, was perhaps the most cele- brated. So famous indeed was he held for his genius and learning, that Eng- land and Ireland have contended with Scotland for the honour of his birth. His name, however, seems to indicate his nativity beyond all reasonable dis- pute. Though convenience has induced general modern writei-s to adopt the term Scotus as his principal cognomen, it is evidently a signification of his native country alone ; for Erigena, and other eminent natives of Scotland in early times, arc all alike distinguished by it in their learned titles ; these titles, be it observed, having been conferred in foreign seminaries of learning. Jolin of Dunse points as clearly as possible to tlie town of that name in Berwickshire, where, at this day, a spot is pointed out as the place of his birth, and a branch of his family possessed, till the beginning of the last century, a small piece of ground, called in old writings, " Duns's Half of Grueldykes." Those who claim him as a native of England set forward the village of Dunstane in Northumberland as the place of Ins birth ; but while the word Dunse '^ is ex- actly his name, Dunstane is not so, and therefore, without other proof, we must hold the English locality as a mere dream. The Irish claimants again say, that, as ficotia was the ancient name of Ireland, Scotus must have been an Irishman. But it happens that Scotland and Ireland bore their present * It is a common story that the term Dunce is denved from the name of the philosopher, but in an oblique manner ; a stupid student being termed another Dunse, on the same prin- ciple as a person of heavy intellect in general life is scmetimes termed a bright man. JOHN DE DUNS. 205 names from a period lon<;^ aiiteoedftiit to the birth of John de Diiiisc ; and all over Europe, Hibernwi and Scolus were disting-uishing titles of Irishmen and Scotsmen. Independent, too, of the name, there are other testimonies concerning the native place of Scotus. In the earliest authentic record of him, preserved in his life by Wading, (an Irishman and advocate for Ire- land), the following passage occui-s, which represents him as a boy con- ducted by two friars to Dumfries, a town in a county almost adjoining- tliat in which Dunse is situate: — " Some infer that the acute genius of Scotus was inborn. Father Ildephonsus Birzenus (in Appar. §. 2.) from Ferchius {l^ita Scoti, c. 20.) and the latter frona Gilbert 13rown {Hist. Eccles.) relate, ' that Scotus, occupied on a farm, and, though the son of a rich man, employed in keeping sheep, according to the custom of his country, that youth may not become vicious from idleness, was met by two Franciscan friars, begging as usual for their monastery. Being favourably received by his father's hospi- tality, they begun to instiiict the boy by the repetition of the Lord's prayer, as they found him ignorant of the principles of piety ; and he was so apt a scholar as to repeat it at once. The friars, surprised at such docility, which they regarded as a prodigy, prevailed on the father, though the mother warmly and loudly opposed, to permit them to lead the boy to Dumfries, where he was soon after shorn as a novice, and presented to our holy father, St Francis ; and some say that he then assumed the profession of a friar.' Such are the words of Birzenus." Another passage from the same authority is still more conclusive regarding the country of Scotus : — " Nor must a wonderful circum- stance be omitted, which, with Birzenus, we transcribe from Ferchius (c 5.), that we may obtain the greater credit. Hence it appears, that the Holy Vir- gin granted to Dunse innocence of life, modesty of manners, complete faith, continence, piety, and wisdom. That Paul might not be elated by great reve- lations, he suffered the blows of Satan ; that the subtle doctor might not be inflated by the gifts of the mother of Christ, he was forced to suffer the tribu- lation of captivily, by a fierce enemy. Gold is tried by the furnace, and a just man by temptation. Edward I. king of England, called, from the length of his leg-s, Long Shanks, had cruelly invaded Scotland, leaving no monument of ancient majesty that he did not seize or desti'oy, leading to death, or to jail, the most noble and learned men of tlie country. Among them were twelve friars ; and tluit he might experience the dreadt'ul slaughter and bitter cap- tivity oi his country, John of Dunse suffered a iniserable servitude ; thus imi- tating the apostle in the gi-aces of God, and the chains he endurecL" When delivered from his servitude in England, Scotus studied at 3Ierton college, Oxfoitl, where he soon bec^ime distinguished, particularly by the facil- ity and subtilty of his logical disputations. His progress in natural and moral philosophy, and in the different branches of mathematical learning, was rapid ; and his skill in scholastic theology was so striking, that he was, in 1301, ap- pointed divinity professor at Oxford. In this situation he soon attracted unbounded popularity. His lectures on the sentences of Peter Lombard drew immense crowds of hearers, and we are assured that there were no fewer than thirty thousand students brought to the university of Oxford, by the fame of the subtle doctor's eloquence and learning. These lectures have been printed, and fill six folio volumes. In 1304, he was commanded by the general of his order (the Franciscan) to proceed to Paris, to defend the doctrine of the im- maculate conception of the Virgin ^laiy, which had been impugned by some divines. No fewer than two hundred objections are said to have been brought against that doctrine, Avhich he "heard with great composure, and I'efuted them with as mucli ease as Sampson broke the cords of the Philistines." Hugo Cav- 206 JOHN DE DUNS. illus, in his life of Scotiis, says that one who was present on this occasion, but uho was a stranger to the person, though not to the fame of Scotus, exclaimed, in a fervour of atlniiration at the eloquence displayed, *' This is either an an- gel from lieaven, a de»il from hell, or John Duns Scotus I" The same anecdote we liave seen applied to various other prodigies, but this is perhaps the origin of it. As a reward for his victory in this famous dispute, he >vas appointed professor and regent in the theological schools of I'aris, and acquired the title of the Subtle Doctor. Nothing, however, could be more barren and useless ihan the chimeric;il abstractions and metaphysiail refinements which obtained him his title, lie opposed Thomas Aquinas on the subject of gi-ace, and estab- lislied a sect called the Scotists, in conti-a-distinction to the Thomists, which extended its ramific;itions throughout every country in Europe. In 1308, he was sent to Cologne, to found a univei-sity there, and to defend his favourite doctrine of the immacuhte conception, against the disciples of Albert the Great. But he was only a few months there when he was seized with an apoplectic fit, which cut him off on the 8th of November, 1308, in the forty-fourth, or, ac- cording to others, in the thirty-fourth year of his age. It is said, that he was buried before he had been actually dead, as was discovered by an after exam- ination of his grave. The writings which Scotus left behind him were numerous. Various edi- tions of parts of them, particularly of his lectuies on the sentences of Peter Lombard, were px'inted towards the close of the fifteenth century ; and in 1639, a complete edition of all his works, with liis life, by Wading, et cum Notis et Contm. a P. P. Hibernis Co/legii Romani S. Isinori Professor ibu.t, appeai-ed at Lyons in twelve volumes folio! These labours^ which were at one tiiue hand- led with reverential awe, are now almost totally neglected. The fame of John Duns Scotus, during his lifetime, and for many yeai-s after his decease, was extraordinary, and goes to prove tlie extent of his talents, however misapplied and wasted they were on the subtilties of school philosophy and the tibsurdities of school divinity. From among the testimonials regarding him which \\'ading lias collected in his life, the following, by a learned cardinal, may be given as a specimen : " Among all the scholastic doctoi-s, I must regard John Duns Scotus as a splendid sun, obscuring all the stars of heaven, by the piercing acuteness of his genius ; by the subtilty and the depth of the most wide, the most hidden, the most wonderful learning; this most subtile doctor surpasses all others, and, in my opinion, yields to no writer of any age. His productions, the admiration and despair even of the most leai-ned among the learned, being of such exti-eme acuteness, that they exercise, excite, and sharpen even the brightest talents to a more sublime knowledge of divine ob- jects, it is no wonder that the most j>rolbund writers join in one voice, * that this Scot, beyond all controversy, surpasses not only the contemporary theolo- gians, but even the greatest of ancient or modern times, in the sublimity of liis genius and tiie immensity of his learning.' This subtile doctor ^vas the tbunder of the grand and most noble sect of tlie S(;otists, which, solely guided by his doctrine, has so zealously taught, defended, amplified, and diffused it, that, being spread all over tlie world, it is regarded as the most illustrious of all. From this sect, like heroes from the Trojan horse, many princes of science have proceeded, whose labour in teaching h;is explained many difliculties, and whose industry in writing has so much adorned and enlarged theological learn- ing, that no further addition can be expected or desired." Here is another specimen of panegyric : " Scotus was so consummate a philosopher, tliat he could have been the inventor of philosophy, if it had not before existed. His knowledge of all the m)steries of religion was so profound and perfect, tliat it JAMES DUKIIAM. 207 was rather intuitive certainty than belief. He described the divine nature as if he had seen God : the attributes of celestial spirits, as if he had been an an- gel ; the felicities of a future state as if he had enjoyerivy council. Gilbert Elliot contrived to make his escape to Hol- land, but, nevertheless, was tried in his absence for high treason to king James VII., for wliich he was condenmed and forfeited. After the revolution, he re- turned to his native country ; and being recommended, both by his sulferings and his sag.Tcity and expertness in business, was made clerk of the privy council. He subsequently entei"ed at the Scottish bar, and rose to the rank of a civil and criminal judge. It is related, that when he came to Dumfries in the course of the justiciary circuit, he never failed to visit his old friend Veitch, who was there settled minister ; and the following dialogue used to pass between them : " Ah, Willie, Willie," lord Minto would say, " if it had not been for me, the pyets [magpies] would have been pyking your pow on the Netherbow Port." " Ah, (iilibie, Gibbie," Veitch would reply, in reference to the first impulse which his persecutions had given to the fortunes of lord Minto, " if it had not been for me, you would have been writing papers yet, at a plack the page." To return to the earl of Minto^his first educjition was of a private nature ; and, as his father had prospects of advancement for him in England, he was subsequently placed at a school in that country. In 17(j8, he entered as a gentleman conmioner at Christ church, Oxford : whence ho was transferred to Luicoln's Inn, and in dtie time was called to the English bar. His health be- coming delicate, he soon after conuuenced a tour of the continent, with the view of acquiring a knowledge of the general state of European lile and policy. While at Paris, he frequented the society of Madame du Deftand, by whom he is justly GILBERT MUllKAY KYNNYNMOND ELLIOT. 213 ])raise«l in her correspondence. She calls him " cc petit Elliot," either in en- dcarnientj or in allusion to his youtli and delicate person. In 1777, Mr Elliot married Miss Aniyand, daughter of Sir (Jeorge Aniyand, by whom he had three sons and three daughtei-s. Soon after this period, his father die«l, leaving him in possession of tlie baronetcy. In 1774, Mr Elliot nas elected member of parliament for Morpeth ; and, though he never became a very frequent speaker, he gave proofs, on many oc- casions, of his talents both as a debater and a man of business. In the delibera- tions of parliament on the American contest, he warmly espoused the cause of ministers, until nearly the close of the wax*, when he joined the ranks of the opposition. Having attached himself to Mr Fox, he gave his support to the coalition ministry, and after the dismission of that party, adhered to it through- out its misfortunes and disgrace. In the endeavours of the party of the coali- tion to humble that of the new aristocracy, which seemed to have arisen in what was called the India interest ; in their attempts to win the people back to their side, by swerving, to a certain length, into democratical wliiggism ; in their hopes to strengthen themselves on the authority of the heir appai-ent to the crown ; in their opposition to a war on behalf of Turkey, with the power of Russia and its allies ; in their efforts to maintain what was really the constitu- tional right of the prince of Wales to the regency ; and in all their other politi- cal measures, whether to serve their country, or to restore themselves to ofKcial power. Sir Gilbert Elliot bore no undistinguished part. The estimation in which he was held by his party, is proved by the circum- stance of his having been twice proposed as speaker ; on one of which occasions he very nearly carried his election against the government. At the breaking- out of the French revolution, he, like many othei's of his party, warmly adopted the views of the tories, and became a warm supporter of ministers. In 1793, the town of Toulon, and other parts of the south of France, had declared for Louis XVII. , and seemed likely to become of great service to the British arms in operating against the new republic. Sir Gilbert Elliot was then associated in a commission with lord Hood and general O'Hai'a, respectively commanders of the naval and military force, to meet with the French i-oyalists, and aflbrd them all possible protection. On the re-capture of Toulon by the republicans, December 18, 17 'J 3, he procured for such of the Toulonese as escaped, a refuge in the island of Elba. The Corsicans having now also resolved to declai'o against the republic. Sir Gilbert was nominated to take them under the protec- tion of Great Britain. Early in 171)4, all the fortified places of the island were put into his hands ; and the king having accepted the profl'ered sovereignty of the island. Sir Gilbert presided as viceroy in a general assembly of the Cor- sicans, June 19, 1794, when a code of laws was adopted for the political an-angement of society in the island, being in substance somewhat similar to the constitution of Great Britain. In a speech of gieat wisdom, dignity, and conciliation. Sir Gilbert reconmiended to the Corsicans to live quietly under this constitution, and to value aright the advantages they had gained by putting themselves under the protection of the same sovereign who was the executor of the laws, and the guardian of the liberties of Great Britain. Whatever could be done by prudence, moderation, energy, and vigilance, was done by Sir Gil- bert in the government of this island ; but, notwithstanding all his efibrts, the FVench ultimately gained the ascendancy, and in October, 179G, the island was deserted by the British. George III. ackno\vledged his sense of Sir Gilbert's services by raising him to the peerage, under the title of lord or baron of 31into, in the shire of lloxburgh, with a special permission to adopt the arms of Corsica into the armorial bearings of his family. 214 JAMES ELPHINSTONE. Lord 3Iiiit<)'s spccrli in the house of lords in support of the union with Ire- land, a measure uhich met his sincere support, uas one of considerable effect, and much admired even by those witii whom he differed on that occasion. Early in 1799, his lordship was appointed envoy extraordinary and minister plenipotentiary to the court of Vienna, where he resided, and ably executed the duties of his vei-y important office, till the end of the year 1801. On the accession of the whig administration in 1606, he filled, for a short time, the office of president of the board of controul ; but having soon after been ap- pointed to the situation of governor-general of India, he embarked for that dis- tant region in February, 1S07. As the company, board of controul, and min- isters had differed about the filling of this office (vacant by the death of 3Iar- quis Cornwallis), the appointment of lord 3Iinto must be considered as a testi- mony of the general confidence in his abilities and integi-ity, more especially as he was at the time quite ignorant of Indian affairs. The result fully justified all that had been anticipated. Under the care of lord 31intfl, the debts of the company rapidly diminished, the animosities of the native princes were subdued, and the jealousy of the government was dinunished. In quelling the mutiny of the coast army, he evinced much prudence, temper, and firmness ; but his ad- ministration was rendered more conspicuously brilliant by his well-concerted and triumphant expeditions against the isles of France and Bourbon in IblO, and that of Java in 1811. Although these enterprises were in conformity to the general instructions, yet the British ministers candidly allowed, in honour of lord 3Iinto, that to him was due the whole merit of the plan, and also its success- ful termination. He himself accompanied the expedition against Java : and it is well kno\vn that his presence not only contributed materially to its early sui-- render, but also to the maintenance of harmony in all departments of the expe- dition, and tended materially to conciliate the inhabitants after the suiTender. For these eminent services, lord 31into received tlie thanks of both houses of parliament ; and in February, lb 13, as a proof of his majesty's continued ap- probation, he was promoted to an earldom, with the additional title of viscount Melgund. His lordship returned to England in 181 4, in apparent health; but after a short residence in London, alarming symptoms of decline began to bho^v themselves, and he died June 21st, at Stevenage, on his way to Scotland. Lord 3Iinto's general abilities are best seen in his acts. His manner's were mild and pleasant, his convei-sation naturally playful — but he could make it se- rious and instructive. He displayed, both in speaking and ^vriting, great purity of language, and an uncommon degree of perspicuity in his mode of expression and narration. He was an elegant scholar, a good linguist, and A\ell versed botli in ancient and modern history. \Vith all these qualifications, he possessed one which gives a charm to all othei"s — modesty. In short, it is rare that a person appears with such a perfect balance of good qualities as the earl of 31 into. ELPHINSTONE, James, a miscellaneous writer, was born at Edinburgh, November 25th, O. S., 1721. He appears to have descended from a race of non-jurant episcopalians, and to have had some distinguished connections among that body. His father was the llev. William Elphinstone, an episcopal minister. His mother ^as daughter to the Kev. 3Ir Honeyman, minister of Kineff", and niece to Honeyman, bishop of Orkney, a prelate very obnoxious to the presby- terian party in the reign of ( harles II., and ^\ho died in consequence of a pistol-wound Avhich he received while entering archbishop's Sharpens coach, and which ^\as intended for the primate. 31r Elphinstone was educated at the high school and university of Edinburgh ; and before the age of seventeen, was deemed fit to act as tutor to the son of lord Blantyre. When about twenty-one years of age, he became acquainted at London with the Jacobite historian. JAMES ELPIUNSTONE. 215 Thomas Carte, whom he accompanied on a tour through Holland, the Nether- lands, and France. In Paris the two travellers spent a considerable time ; and here Mr Elphinstone perfected his acquaintance with the French language. After the deatli of Carte, Mr Elphinstone returned to his native country, and became tutor in the family of Mr Moray of Abercairney, also a keen jacobite. In 1750, he is found resident at Edinburgh, where he superintended an edition of the Rambler. The law of copyright at that time permitted the Scottish and Irish booksellers to repi'int whatever works appeared in England, without com- pensation ; and this was taken advantage of in the case of Dr Johnson's cele- brated paper, each number of which appeared at Edinburgh as soon as it could be obtained from London. To this reprint, the subject of the present memoir supplied English translations of the classical mottoes, and with these Dr Johnson ^vas so much pleased, as to extend his friendship to their author, and to adopt them in all the subsequent editions of his work. In a letter to 3Ir Elphinstone, published in Boswell's Lite of Johnson, the author of the Rambler begs of his friend, to " write soon, to ^vi'ite often, and to write long letters ;" a compliment of which any man existing at that time might well have been proud. During the progress of the Rambler, Mr Elphinstone lost his mother, of Avhose death he gave a very affecting account, in a letter to his sister, Mi-s Strahan, wife of Mr AV^illiam Strahan, the celebrated printer. This being shown to Dr Johnson, affected him so much, with a reflection upon his own mother, then in extreme old age, that he shed tears. He also sent a consolatory letter to 31r Elphin- stone, which is printed by Boswell, and is full of warm and benignant feeling. The Scottish edition of the Rambler was ultimately completed, in eight duodecimo volumes, of most elegant appearance, and, as the impression was limited, it is now very scarce. In 1751, Mr Elphinstone married 3Iiss Gordon, daughter of a brother of general Gordon of Auchintool, and grand-daughter of lord Auchintool, one of the judges of the court of session before the revolutioiu Two yeai's afterwards, he removed to London, and established a seminary upon an extensive scale, first at Brompton, and afterwards at Kensington. As a teacher, he was zealous and intelligent, and never failed to fix the aff^ections and retain the friendship of his pupils. In 1753, he published a poetical vei-sion of the younger Racine's poem of " Religion," which, we ai-e told, obtained the approbation of Dr Young, author of the " Night Thoughts." About the same time, finding no grammar ot the English language which he altogether approved of, he composed one for the use of his pupils, and published it in two duodecimo volumes. This was the most useful, and also the most successful of all his works, though it is now anti- quated ; it received the warm approbation of 3Ir John Walker, author of the Pronouncing Dictionary. In 1763, Mr Elphinstone published a poem, entitled " Education," which met with no success. In the year 1776, iMr Elphinstone retired from his school with a competency, and seemed destined to spend the remainder of a useful life in tranquillity and happiness. In consequence, however, of certain peculiarities of his own mind, his peace was greatly disturbed, and his name covered Avith a ridicule which would not otherwise have belonged to it. It was the impression of everybody but IMr Elphinstone himself, that he possessed no particular talent for poetry, but simply resembled many other men of good education, who possess the art of constructing verse, without the power of inspiring it with ideas. Tempted, per- haps, by the compliments he had received on account of his mottoes to the Ram- bler, he resolved to execute a poetical translation of 3Iarlial, As he had a most extensive acquaintance, his contemplated work was honoured with a large sub- scription-list ; and the work appeared in 1782, in one volume quarto, but Avas 216 JAMES ELPHINSTONE. met on all hands with ridicule and contempt. '' Elphinstone's ^Jartial," saya Dr Beattie, in a letter to Sir William Forbes, " is just come to hand. It is truly a unique. The specimens formerly publislied did very well to laugh at ; but a uhole quarto of nonsense and gibberish is too much. It is strange that a man not wholly illiterate should have lived so long in England without learning the Language." The work, in fact, both in the poetry and the notes, displayed a total absence of judgment ; and, accordingly, it lias sunk into utter neglect. In 1778, Elphinstone lost his wife, an event which is supposed to have some- what unhinged his mind. To beguile his gTiif, he travelled into Scotland, where he was re(;eived with great civility by the most distinguished men of the day. It was even purposed to erect a new chair — one for English literature — in the univei-sity of Edinburgh, in order that he might fill it. Though this de- sign misgave, ho delivered a series of lectures on the English language, first at Edinburgh, and then in the public hall of the university of Glasgow. In the autumn of 1779, he returned to Edinburgh. In his translation of Martial, Mr Elphinstone had given some specimens of a new plan of orthography, projected by himself, and of which the principal fea- tore was the spelling of the \vords according to their sounds. In church and in state, he was a high tory ; but he was the most determined jacobin in language. The whole system of derivation he set at defiance ; analogy was his solvent ; and he wished to ci'eate a complete revolution in favour of pronunciation. In 1786, he published a full explanation of his system, in two volumes quarto, under the extraordinary title of " Propriety ascertained in her Picture." Though the work produced not a single convert, he persisted in his desperate attempt, and followed up his first work by two others, entitled " English Orthography Epitomized," and " Propriety's Pocket Dictionary." In order, further, to give the world an example of an ordinary book pi-inted according to his ideas, he published, in 1794, a selection of his letters to his friends, with their answers, entirely spelt in the new way ; the appearance of which was so unnatural, and the reading so difficult and tii'esome, that it never was sold to any extent, and produced a heavy loss to the editor. If 31r Elphinstone had applied his politi- cal principles to this subject, he Avould have soon convinced himself that there is more mischief, generally, in the change than good in the result. His pupil, Mr l\. C. Dallas, thus accounts for his obstinacy in error. " He was," says tiiis gentleman,' " a Quixote in whatever he judged right ; in i-eligion, in virtue, in benevolent interferences ; the force of custom or a host of foes made no impres- sion upon him ; the only question with him was, should it be, or should it not be ? Such a man might be foiled in an attempt, but was not likely to be di- verted from one in which he thought right was to be supported against wrong. The worst that can be said of his perseverance in so hopeless a pm-suit is, that it was a foible by which lie injured no one but himself." Having seriously impaired his fortune by these publications, the latter days of this worthy man would have probably been spent in poverty, if he had not been rescued from that state by his brother-in-law and sister, Mr and IMrs Strahan. The former of these individuals, at his death, in 1785, left him an annuity t)f a hundred a-year, a hundred pounds in ready money, and twenty pounds for mournings. J\Irs Strahan, who only survived her husband a month, left him two hundred pounds a-ycar more, and thus secured his permanent comfort. In the same year, he married, for his second wife. Miss Falconer, a niece of bishop Falconer of the Scottish episcopal church, who proved to him a most faith- ful and attentive partner till the close of his life. Mr Elphinstone lived on his 1 Nichols's IJterai-y Anecdotes, iii 33. T\7LLTA^r ET.PITINSTONE. 217 humble competency, in tlie enjoyment of good health, till October 8th, 1809, Avheii he suddenly expired, in the eighty-eighth year of his age. He woe buried at Kensington, where, upon the east wall of the church, there is a marble slab, with an inscription setting forth his virtues. Though, as a follower of literature, Elphinstone did little to secure the ap- probation of mankind, he was, nevertheless, a man of considerable mental abili- ties ; and it is even said that he possessed the power of writing \\ ith force and simplicity, if it had not been obscured by his eccentricities. " After all," says JMr Dallas, '' it is as a man and a christian that he excelled ; as a son, a bro- ther, a husband, and a father to many, though he never had any childi-en of his own, as a friend, an enlightened pati-iot, and a loyal subject. His manners ^»ere simple, his rectitude undeviating. His piety, though exemplary, was de- void of show ; the sincerity of it was self-evident ; but, though unobtrusive, it became impatient on the least attempt at profaneness ; and an oath he could not endure. On such occasions he never failed boldly to correct the vice, Avhence- soever it proceeded. 3Ir Elphinstone was middle-sized, and slender in his person ; he had a peculiar countenance, which, perhaps, would have been con- sidered an ordinary one, but for the spirit and intellectual emanation which it possessed. He never complied with fashion in the alteration of his clothes. In a letter to a friend in 17S3, he says : ' time has no more changed my heart than my dress ;' and he might have said it again in 1809. The colour of his suit of clothes was invariably, except when in mourning, what is called a di-ab ; his coat was made in the fashion that i-eigned when he returned from France, in the beginning of the last century, with flaps and buttons to the pockets and sleeves, and without a cape : he always wore a powdered bag-uig, with a high toupee, and Avallved with a cocked-hat and an amber-headed cane ; his shoe- buckles had seldom been changed, and were always of the same size ; and he never put on boots. It must be observed, that he latterly, more than once, offered to make any change 3Irs Elphinstone might deem proper ; but in her eyes his virtues and worth had so sanctified his appearance, that she would liave thought the alteration a sacrilege." ELPHINSTOX, WiLLUM, a celebrated Scottish prelate, and founder of the miiversity of Aberdeen, was born in the city of Glasgow^ in the year 1413. His father, William Elphinston, Avas a younger brother of the noble family of Elpliinston, who took up his residence in Glasgow during the reign of James I., and was the first of its citizens who became eminent and acquired a fortune as a general merchant. His mother was JMargaret Douglas, a daughter of the laird of Diundanrick. His earliest youth Avas marked by a decided turn for the exercises of devotion, and he seems to have been by his pai'ents, at a very early period of his life, devoted to the church, which was in these days the only road to preferment. In the seventh year of his age he was sent to the gram- mar school, and having gone through the prescribed course, afterwards studied philosophy in the university of his native city, then newly founded by bishop Turnbull, and obtained the degree of Artium magister in the twenty-fifth year of his age. He then entered into holy orders, and was appointed priest of the church of St 3Iichaers, situated in St Enoch's gate, now the Trongate, where he officiated for the space of four years. Being strongly attached to the study both of the civil and canon la\v, he was advised by his uncle, LawTence El- phinston, to repair to the continent, where these branches of knowledge were taught in perfection. Accordingly, in the twenty-ninth year of his age, he went over to France, where he applied himself to the study of Law for the space of three yeai-s, at the end of ^vhich he was called to fill a professional cliair in the university of i'aris, and afterwards at Orleans, in both of whiiJi 218 WILLIAM ELPHINSTON. places lie tniiglit the science of law with the liij^hest applause. Having- in this manner spent nine years abroad, he was, at the request of his friends, especial- ly of Andrew .Aluirhead, his principal patron, (who, from being rector of Cad- zow, had been promoted to the bishopric of (jlasgow,) persuaded to return to his native country, where he was made parson of Glasgow, and official or com- missary of the diocese. As a mark of respect, too, the university of Glasgow elected him lord rector the same year. On the death of bishop Muirhead, which took place only two years after his return, he was nominated by Sche- vez, bishop of St Andrews, official of Lothian ; an office which he discharged so nmch to the satisfaction of all concerned, that James III., sent for him to parliament, and appointed him one of the lords of his privy council. It may be noticed here, as a curious fact, that at this period men of various degrees sat and deliberated and voted in parliament witliout any other authority than being summoned by his majesty as wise and good men, whose advice might be useful in the management of public atlairs. So little, indeed, was the privilege of sitting and voting in parliament then understood, or desired, that neither the warrant of their fellow subjects, nor the call of the king, was sufficient to to secure their attendance, and penalties for non-attendance had before that period been exacted. Elphinston was now in the way of preferment ; and being a man both of talents and address, was ready to profit by every opportunity. Some dilferences having arisen between the French and Scottish courts, the latter, alarmed for the stability of the ancient alliance of the two countries, thought fit to send out an embassy for its preservation. This embassy consisted of the earl of Buchan, lord chamberlain Livingston, bishop of Dunkeld, and Elphinston, the subject of this memoir, who so managed matters as to have the success of the embassy wholly attributed to him. As the reward of such an important service, he was, on his return in 1479, made archdeacon of Argyle and as this was not considered as at all adequate to his mex-its, the bishopric of Ross was shortly after added. The election of the chapter of lloss being speedily confirmed by the king's letters patent under the great seal, Elphinston took his scat i«i parliament, under the title of electus et confirmatus, in the year 1482. It does not appear, however, that he was ever any thing moi'e than bishop elect of lloss ; and in the following year, 1483, Robert Blackadder, bishop of Aberdeen, being promoted to the see of Glasgow, Elphinston was re- moved to that of Aberdeen. He was next year nominated, along with Colin earl of Argyle, John lord Drummond, lord Oliphant, Robert lord Lyle, Archi- bald Whitelaw, archdeacon of Loudon, and Duncan Uundas, lord lyon king at arms, to meet with commissioners from Ri<;hard 111., of England, for settling all disputes between the two countries. The conunissioners met at Nottingham on the 7th of September, 1484, and, after many conferences, concluded a peace betwixt the two nations for the space of three years, commencing at sun- rise September 29th, 1484, and to end at sunset on the 29tli of September, 1487. Anxious to so<;ure himself from the enmity of James at any future period, Richard, in addition to this treaty, proposed to marry his niece, Anne de la Pool, daughter of the duke of Suffolk, to the eldest son of king James.. Tiiis proposal met witii the hearty approbation of James ; and bishop Elphin- ston with several noblemen were despatched back again to Nottingham to con- clude the afiair. Circumstances, however, rendered all the articles that had been agreed upon to no purpose, and on the fatal field of Bosworth Richard shortly after closed his guilty career. The truce concluded with Richard for three years does not appear to have been very strictly observed, and on the ao- cession of Henry Vlh, bishop Elphinston with Sir John Ramsay and others, went again into England, where they met with commissioners on the part of WILLIAM ELPIIINSTON. 219 that country, and on the 3d of July, I486, more than a year of the former truce being still to run, concluded a peace, or rather a cessation of anns, which was to continue till the 3d of July, 1489, Several disputed points were by this treaty refeiTcd to the Scottish parliament, which it was agi-eed should as- eenible in the month of January following. A meeting of the two kings, it was also stipulated, should take place in the following summer, when they would, face to face, talk over all that related to their personal interests, and those of their realms. Owing to the <;onfiision that speedily ensued, this meeting never took place. Risliop Klpliinston, in the debates betwivt the king and his nobles, adhered steadfastly to the king, and exerted himself to the utmost to reconcile t'.iem, though without efiect. Finding the nobles nowise disposed to listen to Avhat he considered reason, the bishop made another journey to England, to solicit in behalf of his master the assistance of Henry. In this also he was un- s'lccesst'ul ; yet James was so well pleased with his conduct, that on his return, he constituted him lord high chancellor of Scotland, the principal state office in tlie country. This the bishop held till the death of the king, whicli happened a little more than three months after. On tliat event, tiie bishop retired to his diocese, and applied himself to tlie faithful discharge of his episcopal functions. He was particularly careful to i-eforni such abuses as he found to exist among his clergy, and for their benefit composed a book of canons, taken from the canons of the primitive church. He Avas, however, called to attend the parliament held at Edinburgh, in the month of October, 1488, where he was present at the crowning of the young prince James, then in his sixteenth year. Scarcely any but the conspirators against the late king attended this I)arliament, and aware that the bishop might refuse to concur with them in the measures they meant to pursue, they contrived to send him on a mission to Germany, to the emperor Maximilian, to demand in man-iage for the young Iving, his daughter Margaret. Before he could reach Vienna, the lady in question had been promised to the heir apparent of the king of Spain, lliougli he failed in the object for which he had been specially sent out, his journey ivas not unprofitable to his country ; for, taking Holland in his way home, he concluded a treaty of peace and amity with the States, who had, to the great loss of Scotland, long been its enemies. The benefits of this treaty were so generally felt, that it was acknowledged by all to have been a much moi'e im- portant service than the accomplishment of the marriage, though all the expected advantages had followed it. On his return from this embassy in 1492, bishop Elphinston was made lord privy seal, in place of bishop Hepburn, removed. The same year, he was again appointed a commissioner, along with several others, for renewing the truce with England, which was done at Edinburgh, in the month of June, the truce being settled to last till the end of April, 1501. Tranquillity being now restored, bishop Elphinston turned his attention to the state of learning and of morals among his countrymen. For the improve- ment of the latter, he compiled the lives of Scottish Saints, which he ordered to be read on solemn occasions among his clergy ; and for the improvement of the former, he applied to pope Alexander VI. to grant him a bull for erecting a university in Aberdeen. This request pope Alexander, from the reputation of the bishop, readily complied with, and sent him a bull to that effect in the year 1494. The college, however, was not founded till the year 150(5, when it was dedicated to St Mary ; but the king, at the request of the bishop, having taken upon himself and his successors the protection of it, and contri- buted to its endowment, St Mary was compelled to give place to his moi-e efficienl patronage, and it has ever since been called King's college. By the bull of erection tiiis univei'sity was endowed with privileges as ample as any in Europe, 220 WILLIAM ELPIIINSTON. nnd it was chiefly formcrl upon the excellent models of Paiis and Bononia. The persons oiijvin.illy endowed, were a doctor of theology (principal), a doctor of the canon law, a doctor of tlie civil law, a doctor cf pliysic, a professor of humanity to teach jrrannuar, a suij-principal to teach philosophy, a <-,lianter, a sacrist, six students of tiieoloivy, throe students of the laws, tiiirteen students of philosophy, an organist, and five sin<>in<^ boys, who were students of humanity. By the united cflbrts of the king and the bishop, ample provision was made for the subsistence of both teaointed secretary to the British em- bassy in Spain ; but his father having died thirteen months afterwards, he returned to his native country, deleriuincd to devote the remainder of his life to the cultivation of litei-ature and the encouragement of literary men. The eduG'ition of his younger brothers, Thomas, afterwards the illustrious lord-chancellor, and llein-y, no less celebrated for his wit, seems to have occu- pied a large portion of lord Buchan's thouglits. To accomplish these objects, lie for years submitted to considerable privations. The family-estate had been squandered by former lords, and it is no small credit to the earl that he paid off debts for which he was not legally responsible ; a course of conduct which should lead us to overlook parsimonious habits acquired under very disadvantageous circumstances. Lord Buchan's favourite study was the history, literature, and antiquities of his native country. It had long been regretted that no society had been formed in Scotland for the promotion of these pursuits; and with a view to supplying this desideratum, he called a meeting of the most eminent persons resident in Ldinburgh, on the 1 Ith of November, 1780. Fourteen assembled at his house in St Andrew square, and an essay, which will be found in Smellie's Account of the Society of Scottish Antiquaries, p. 4 — 18, was read by his lordship. At a meeting, held at the same place, on the 28th, it was determined, that upon the 18th of December a society should be formed upon the proposed model; and, accordingly, on the day fixed, the earl of Bute was elected president, and the earl of Buchan first of five vice-presidents. In 179:3 the first volume of their Transactions was published ; and the following discourses, by the earl, appear in it : — " 3Iemoirs of the Life of Sir James Stewart Denham ;" " Account of the Parish of L'^phall ;" " Account of the Island of Icolmkill ;" and a " Life of Mr James Short, optician," Besides these, he had printed, in conjunction with Dr Walter Minto, 1787, " An Account of the Life, Writings, and Inven- tions of Napier of Mercheston." In the same year his lordship retired from Edinburgh to reside at Dryburgh abbey on account of his health. Here he pursued his favourite studies. He instituted an annual festive commemoration of Thomson, at that poet's native place ; and this occasion produced from the pen of Burns the beautiful Address to the shade of the bard of Ednam. The eulogy pronounced by the illustrious earl on the first of these meetings, in I7'Jl, is remarkable. " I think myself happy to have this day the honour of endeavouring to do honour to the memory of 'i'honison, which has been profanely touched by the rude hand of Sanmel Johnson, whose fame and reputation indicate the decline of taste in a country that, after having produced an Alfred, a Wallace, a Bacon, a Napier, a Newton, a Buchanan, a Milton, a Hampden, a Fletcher, and a Thomson, can submit to be bullied by an overbearing pedant I" In the following year his lordship pub- lished an " Essay on the Lives and Writings of Fletcher of Saltoun and the poet Thomson, Biographical, Critical, And Political ; with some pieces of Thomson's never before published," 8vo.' Loixl Buclian had contributed to several periodical public^ations. In 17S4 he comumnicated to the Gentleman's Magazine " Bemarks on the Progress of 1 Uidnraphinil Nulicc (jf i\n: E;iil of Biiclum in (he Nfw Scots Miigazine, vol. ii. p. 49 From this :u lick most oi' tliu facts licru iiiciiliuiiucl arc extnu:lt;tl. REV. EBENEZER ERSKINE. 225 the Roman Arms in Scotland during the sixth campaign of Ag.ricola," after- ivards printed, with plates and additions, by Dr .lamieson, in the 15ibliotheca Topographica Britannica, To Grose's Antiquities of Scotland he g^ave a de- scription of Dryburgh, with views, taken in 1787 and 178 9. But his most frequent assistance Avas given to " The Bee," generally under fictitious signatures. The last work which he meditated was the collection of these anonymous com- munications. Accordingly, in 1812, "the Anonymous and Fugitive Essays of the earl of Buchan, collected from various periodical works," appeared at Edinburgh in 12mo. It contains the following short preface: "The earl of Buchan, considering his advanced age, has thought proper to publish this volume, and meditate the publication of others, containing his anonymous writ- ings, that no person may hereafter ascribe to him any others than ai'e by him, in this manner, avowed, described, or enumerated." The volume is wholly filled with his contributions to " The Bee ;" among which, in the department of Scottish history, are " Sketches of the Lives of Sir J. Stewart Denham, George Heriot, John earl of BlaiT (his ancestor), and Remarks on the Character and Writings of William Drummond of Hawthornden." The second volume did not appear. His death did not, however, take place till seventeen years after this period ; but he was for several years before it in a stale of dotage. Few men have de- voted themselves so long and so exclusively to literature ; his con'espondence, both with foreigners and his own countrymen, was very extensive, and compre- hended a period of almost three generations. But his services were principally valuable, not as an author, but as a patron : his fortune did not warrant a very expensive exhibition of good offices ; but in all cases where his own knowledge, which was by no means limited, or letters of recommendation, could avail, they ^vere frankly and generously offered. One of the works proposed by him was, " a Connnercium Epistolarum and Literai-y History of Scotland, during the pei-iod of last century," including the correspondence of " antiquaries, typo- graphers, and bibliographists," in which he had the assistance of the late Dr Robert Anderson. It is exceedingly to be regretted that such a work, and re- ferring to so remarkable a period, should not have been presented to the pub- lic. It might probably have had a considerable portion of the garrulity of age ; but, from his lordship's very extensive acquaintance with the period, it cannot be doubted that it would have contained many facts, which are now ii're- trievably lost. ERSKINE, Rev. Ebenezer, a celebrated divine, and founder of the secession church in Scotland, was son to the Rev. Henry Erskine, who was settled minis- tor at Cornhill, in Northumberland, about the year 1649 ; >vhence he was ejected by the Bartholomew act in the year 1662, and, after suffering many hardships for his attachment to the cause of presbytery, was, shortly after the revolution, 1688, settled pastor of the parish of Chirnside, Berwickshire, where he finished his course, in the month of August, 1696, in the seventy-second year of his age. The Rev. Henry Erskine was of the ancient family of Shielfield, in the Merse, descended from the noble family of Marr, and Ebenezer was one of his younger sons by his second wife, Margaret Halcro, a native of Orkney, the founder of whose family was Halcro, prince of Denmark, and whose gTeat-gi-andmother was the lady Barbara Stuart, daughter to Robert earl of Orkney, son to James V. of Scotland ; so that his parentage was, in every respect, Avhat the world calls highly respectable. Tlie place of his birth has been variously stated. One account says it was the village of Dryburgh, where the house occupied by his father is still pointed out, and has been carefully preserved, as a relic of the family ; another says it was the Bass, whei-e his father was at the time a pri- 226 iREV. EBENEZER ERSKIXB. soner for nonconformity. Be llie place of liis birth as it inay, the date iias been ascertained to have been the -JSnd day of June, l(i>>0 ; and the name Ebenezer, "a stone of assistance," was given him by his pious parents in testimony ot their gratitude for that goodness and mercy with which, amidst all tlieir perse- cutions, they luid been unceasingly preserved. Of liis early youth nothing pai- ticuLir has been recorded. The elements of literature he received at Chirnside, under the immediate superintendence of his father, after which he went through a regular course of study at the university of Edinburglu' During the most part of the time that he was a student, he acted as tutor and chaplain to the earl of Rothes, at Leslie-house, within the presbytery of Kirkaldy, by which court he was taken upon trials, and licensed to preach the gospel in the year 170-2. Tlie abilities and the excellent character of 3Ir Erskine soon brought him into notice ; and in the month of 3Iay, 1703, he received a unanimous call to the parish of Portmoak, to the pastoral care of which he was ordained in the month of September following. In this pleasantly sequestered situation, devot- ing himself wholly to the duties of his office, he laid the foundation of that ex- cellence for which, in his after-life, he was so remarkably distinguished Anxi- ous to attain accurate and extensive views of divine truth, he spent a great proportion of his time in the study of the scriptures, along with some of the most eminent expositors, Turretine, Witsius, Owen, &:c. ; embracing, besides, every opportunity of conversing on theological subjects uith persons of intelli- gence and piety. By these means he soon came to great clearness both of conception and expression of the leading truths of the gospel, of which, at first, like many other pious ministers of the church of Scotland at that period, his views were clouded with no inconsiderable portion of legalism. During the year succeeding his settlement, he was united in marriage to Alison Turpie, a young woman of more than ordinary talents, and of undoubted piety. To the expe- rience of this excellent woman he was accustomed to acknow^ledge to his friends, that he was indebted for much of that awuracy of view by which he was so greatly distinguished, and to which much of that success which attended his ministry is, doubtless, to be ascribed; and, more especially, he used to mention a confidential conversation, on the subject of their religious experiences, be- tween her and his brother Ralph, which he accidentally overheard from the window of his study, which overlooked the bower in the garden, where they were sitting, and unconscious of any person overhearing them. Struck with the simplicity of their views, and the extent of their attainments, as so verj- superior to his own, he was led to a more close examination of the vital principle of Christianity, ^vhich issued in a measure of light and a degree of comfort to which he had previously been a stranger. In the discharge of his ministerial duties, he had always been most exemplary. Besides the usual sei-vices of the Sabbath, he had, as was a very general practice in the church of Scotland at that period, a weekly lecture on the Thursdays ; but now his diligence seemed to be doubled, and liis object much more pointedly to preach Christ in his person, offices, and grace, as at once wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemp- tion to all who truly receive and rest upon him. Even in his external manners there appeared, from this time forward, a great and important improvement. In public speaking he had felt considerable enibaiTassment, and in venturing to change his altitude was in danger of losing his ideas ; but now he was at once master of his mind, his voice, and his gestures, and by a manner most dignified and engaging, as well as by the weight and the importance of his matter, com- 1 From the records of the town-council of Edinburgh it appears, that, in 1698, he was a bLrsar in liie university, being presented by Pringle of Tor\voodJee. KEY. P^BENRZER ERSKINE. 227 inandeJ deep and reverential attention. At the same time that 31r Erskine was tlius attentive to his public appearances, he was equally so to those duties of a more private kind, which are no less important for promoting the gTo\vth of piety and genuine holiness among a people, but which, having less of the pomp of external circumstance to recommend their exercise, are more apt to be some- times overlooked. In the duties of public catechising and exhorting from house to house, as well as in visiting the si<;k, he was most indefatigable. In catechising he generally brougiit forwai'd the subject of his discourses, that by the repetition of them he might make the more lasting impression on the manners and hearts of his people. For the pui'poses of necessary recreation he was accustomed to perambulate the whole bounds of his parish, making frequent calls at the houses of his parishioners, partaking of their humble meals, and talking over their every day affairs, without any thing like ceremony. By tiiis means he became intimately acquainted with the tempers and the characters of all his hearers, and was able most effectively to administer the word of instruction, correction, encouragement, or reproof, as the circumstances of the case might require, 'i'iiough 3Ir Erskine was thus free and familiar with his people on ordinary and every day occasions, he was perfectly aware of the necessity of maintaining true ministerial dig-nity and deportment ; and when he appeared among them in the ^vay of performing official duty, was careful to presei-ve that serious and com- manding demeanour which a situation so important, and senices so solemn, na- turally tend to inspire. When visiting ministerially, it was his custom to enter evei'y habitation with the same givavity with which he entered the pulpit, pro- nouncing the salutation, "Peace be to this house;" after which he examined all the membei-s of the family, tendered to each such exhortations as their circum- stances seemed to require, concluded with prayer, fervent, particular, and affec- tionate. In visiting the sick, he studied the same serious solenmity, and few had the gift of moi-e effectually speaking to the comfort of the dejected chris- tian, or of pointing out the Lamb of God that taketh away the sin of the world, to the sinner alarmed with a sense of guilt and the view of the approaching judginent. We cannot forbear mentioning another part of his ministerial conduct, in which it were to be wished that he were more imitated. Not satisfied with ad- dressing to the children of his charge frequent admonitions from the pulpit, and conversing with them in their fathers' houses, he regularly superintended their instruction in the parish school, where it was his practice to visit every Satur- day to hear them repeat the catechism, to tender them suitable advice, and af- fectionately to pray with them. When such was his care of the children, the reader will scarcely need to be told that lie was watchful over the conduct of their teachers ; and for the preservation of order and good government in his jiarish, he took care to have in every corner of it a sufficient number of active and intelligent ruling eldere, an order of men of divine appointment, and fitted for preserving and promoting the public morals beyond any other that have yet been thought upon, but in subsequent times, especially in the established church, till of late years, greatly neglected. The effect of all this diligence in the discharge of his pastoral duties, \\as a general attention to the interests of religion among his people, all of wiiom seemed to regard their pastor with the strongest degi'ee of respect and confidence. Not only was the church crowded on Sabbaths, but even on the Thursdays, and his diets of examination drew together large au- diences. Prayer meetings were also established in every part of his parish, for the management of which, he dre^v up a set of rules, and he encouraged them by his presence, visiting them in rotation as often as his other avocations would admit. Nor was it this external regard to tiie practice of piety alone tlunt dis- 228 REV. EBENEZER ERSKINE. tinn^uished tliem, the triumphant deaths of many of them bore the still more de- risive testimony to the good seed sown among them having been watered by the dews of Divine influence. It bas been aflSrmed, that the parish of Portmoak was long after disiingui.'-bed above all tlie parishes around it for the attainments of the people in religious knowledge, and for their marked attention to the rules of godliness and honesty. But it was not to his parish alone that 3Ir Erskine's labours were made a blessing. Serious christians from all quarters of the country, attracted by the celebrity of his character, were eager to enjoy occasionally the benefits of his ministry, and on sacramental occasions he had frequently attendants from the distance of sixty or seventy miles. So great was the concourse of people on these occasions, that it was necessary to fonn two separate assemblies besides that which met in the church, for the proper business of the day ; and so re- markable was the success attending the word, that many eminent christians on their death-beds spoke of Portmoak as a Bethel where they had enjoyed renewed manifestations of God's love, and the inviolability of his covenant. In tlie midst of his labours, on the death of his dear brother 3Ir 3Iacgill of Kinross, an attempt was made to remove Mr Erskine from Portmoak to that burgh. Though the call, however, was unanimous and urgent, the atlectionate efforts of the peo- ple of Portmoak were successful in preventing the desired ti'anslation. Shortly after this, 3Ir Erskine received an equally unanimous call to the parish of Kir- kaldy, wliich he also refused, but a third minister being wanted at Stirling, the Rev. IMr Alexander Hamilton, with the whole population, gave him a pressing and unanimous call, of which, after having maturely deliberated on the circum- stances attending it, he felt it his duty to accept. He w.ns accordingly, with the concurrence of the courts, translated to Stirling, in the autumn of the year 1731, having discharged the pastoral oflice in Portmoak for twenty-eight years. The farewell sermon which he preached at Portmoak, from Acts xx. 22, " And now behold 1 go bound in the spirit unto Jerusalem, not knowing the things that shall befall me there,' had in it something particularly ominous, and as such seems to have been received by the people. " This," says an eye and ear witness of the scene, " was a sorrowful day to both minister and people. The retrospect of twenty-eight years of great felicity which were for ever gone, and the uncertainty of what might follow, bathed their faces with tears, and awoke the voice of mourning throughout the congregation, for the loss of a pastor, the constant object of whose ministry was to recommend to their souls the exalted Redeemer in his person, oflices, and grace, who had laboured to rouse the in- considertite to repentance and serious concern, and who had not failed, when religious impressions look place, to preserve and promote them with unwearied diligence. So much was the minister himself atlected, that it vas with ditliculty he could proceed till he reached the end of the doctrinal part of his discourse, when he «as obliged to pause, and, overcome with grief, concluded with these words, "31y friends, 1 find that neither you nor 1 can bear the application of this subject." So strong was the attection of the people of Portmoak to 31r Ei-skine, that several individuals removed to Stirling along with him, that they might still enjoy the benefit of his ministry; he was also in the habit of visiting iheni and preaching to them occasionally, till, through the melancholy state of mattere in the churcli, the pulpits of all the parishes in Scotland were shut against him. In the new and enlarged sphere of action which I\Ir Erskine now occupied, lie seemed to exert even more than his usual ability. His labours here met with singular acceptance, and appeared to be as singularly blessed ; when an at- tempt was made, certainly little anticipated by his friends, and perhaps as little REV. EBENEZER ERSKTNE. 229 by himself, to paralyse his eftbvts, to nan-ow the sphere of his influence, and to circumscribe his expression of thought and feeling ; an expression \\hi«'li iiad long been painful and was now thouglit to be dangerous to the party that had long- been dominant in tlie Scottish church, and were charged with corrupting her doctrines and labouring to make a sacrifice of her liberties at the shrine of civil authority. That they were guilty of the first of these charges was alleged to be proved beyond the possibility of contradiction, by their conduct towards the presbytei-y of Auchterai'der, with regard to what has since been denominated the Auchterarder creed, so far back as the year 1717; by their conduct to- wards the twelve brethren, known by the name of " 3Iarrow men," along with their acts against the doctrines of the book entitled, " The 3Iarrow of 31odern Divinity," in the years 17-20 and 1721 ; and, more i-ecently still, by the leniency of tlieir dealings with professor .lohn Simpson of Glasgow, Avho, though found to have, in his prelections to the divinity students, taught a system of Deism i-ather than christian theology, met with no higher censure than simple suspen- sion. The students, it was insisted, could be equally well instructed from their tamely submitting to take the abjuration oath, and to the re-imposition of lay patronages, — contrary to the act of union, by which tlie Scottisli church was so- lemnly gMiaranteed in all her liberties and immunities so long as that treaty should be in existence. That this grinding yoke had been imposed upon her in an illegal and despotic manner by the tory ministry of the latter years of queen Anne was not denied ; but it was contended, that those powers which the cluu'ch still possessed, and which she could still legally employ, had never been called into action, but that pati'ons had been encouraged to make their sacrilegious encroachments upon the rights of the christian people even beyond what they appeared of themselves willing to do, — Avhile the cause of the people was by the church trampled upon, and their complaints totally disregarded. In the con- tests occasioned by these dltl'erent questions, 3Ir Erskine had been early en- gaged. He had refused the oath of abjuration, and it was owing to a charge preferred against him by tlie Rev. Mr Anderson of St Andrews, before the com- mission of the general assembly, for having spoken against such as had taken it, that his fii-st printed sermon, " Uod's little remnant keeping their garments clean," was, along with some othei-s, given to the public in the year 1725, many yeai-s after it had been preached. In the defence of the doctrine of tlie Marrow of 3Iodern Divinity, he had a principal hand in the representation and petition presented to the assembly on the subject, 3iay the 11th, 1721 ; which, though originally composed by 31r Boston, was revised and perfected by him. He also drew up the original draught of the answers to the twelve queries that were put to the twelve brethren, which was afterwards perfected by 3Ir Gabriel Wilson of 3Iaxton, one of the most luminous pieces of theology to be found in any language. Along with his brethren, for his share in this good work, he was by the general assembly solemnly rebuked and admonished, and was along with them reviled in many scurrilous publications of the day, as a man of wild antinomian principles, an innovator in religion, an impugner of the Confession of taith and Catechisms, an enemy to Christian morality-, a troubler of Israel, and puffed up with vanity in the pride and aiTOgancy of his heart, anxious to be exalted above his brethren. These charitable assumptions found their way even into the pulpits, and frequently figured in Synod sermons and other pub- lic discourses. Owing to the vehemence of Principal Haddow of St Andrews, uho, from personal pique at 3Ir Hogg of Carnock, the original publisher of the 3Iarrow in Scotland, took the lead in impugning the doctrines of that book, 3Ir Ebenezer Erskine and his four representing brethren in that quarter. James Hogg, James Bathgate, James Wavdiaw, and Halpli Erskine, were treated wkh 230 REV. EBFA'EZER ERSKIXE. marked severity. At several meetiiioTj of Synwl they were openly accused and subjected to tiie most inquisitorial examinations, .\tteiiipts were also repeatedly made to compel them to sign anew the Confession of Faith, not as it was origi- nally received by the church of Scotland in the year IG-iT, but as it was ex- plained by the obnoxious act of 1722. These attempts however, had utterly failed, and the publication of so many of 3Ir Erekine's sermons had not only refuted the foolish calumnies that liad been so industriously set atloat, but had prodigiously increased his reputation and his general usefulness. The same year in which 3L- Erskine was removed to Stirling, a paper was given in to the general assemblv, complaining- of the violent settlements that were so gener- ally UkinsT place throughout the country, which was not so much as allowed a hearing. Tliis induced upwards of fifiy-two ministers, of whom the subject of ihis memoir was one, to draw up at large a representation of the almost innum- j erable evils under which the church of Scotland was groaning, and which threat- I ened to subvert her very foundations. To prevent all objections on the formality I of this representation, it was carefully signed and respectfidly presented, accord- j ing to the order pointed out in such cases ; but neither could this obtain so much as a hearinsf. So fr.r was the assembly from being in the least desree affected I \vith the mournful state of the church, and listeninsr to the groans of an afflicted ! but submissive people, tliat they sustained the settlement of 3Ir Stark at Kinross, j one of the most palpable intrusions ever made upon a christian congregation, : and they enjoined the presbytery who had refused to receive him as a brother, to enrol his name on their list, and to grant no church privileges to any individual of the parish of Kinross, but upon 31r Stark's letter of recommendation requiring or allowing them so to do, and this in the face of the presbytery's declaiMtion, that Mr Stark had been imposed on the parish of Kinross, and upon them, by tiie simple fiat of the patron. Against this decision, protests and dissents were presented by many individuals, but by a previous law they had provided, that nothing of the kind should henceforth be entered upon the jouiuuils of the courts, whether supreme or subordinate, thus leaving no room for individuals to exonerate their own consciences, nor any legitimate record of the opposition that had been made to departures from established and fundamental laws, or inno- vations upon tacitly acknowledged rules of propriety and good order. This same assenibly, as if anxious to extinguish the possibility of popular claims being at any future period revived, proceeded to enact into a standing law an overture of last assembly, for establishing a uniform method of planting va- cant churches, when at any time the right of doing so should fall into the hands of presbyteries, tanquam jure devoluto, or by the consent of the parties in- terested in the settlement. This uniform method was simply the conferring the power of suffrage, in country parishes, on lieritors being protestant, no matter though thev were episcopalians, and elders, in burghs, on magistrates, town coun- cil, — and eldei-s, — and in burghs with landward parishes joined, on magistrates, town council, heritors, and elders joined, and this to continue " till it should please God in his providence to relieve tiiis church from the grievances arising from the act restoring patronages.'' 'J'his act was unquestionably planned by men to whom patronage presented no real grievances, and it was itself nothing but patronage modified very little for the better. But the authors of it had the art to pass it off' upon many simple well-meaning men, as containing all that tlie constitution of the Scottish vithout their consent," llie second book of discipline agreed upon in the gen- eral assembly, 1573, inserted in their registers, 1 5S I, sworn to in the national covenant the same year revived, and ratified by the famous assembly at Glas- gow, in the year 1G3S, and according to which the government of the church, was established first in the year 1592, and again in the year 1640, is equally explicit on this head. " Vocation or calling is common to all tiiat should bear office within the kirk, which is a la^vful way by the which qualified pei^sons are promoted to spiritual oilice within the kirk of (iod. Without this lawful calling, it was never leisome to any to meddle ^vith any function ecclesiastical.'' After speaking of vocation as extraordinary and ordinary, the compilers state " thi» ordinary and outward calling." to consist of " two parts, election, and ordina- tion. Election they state to be " the choosing out of a person or persons most able to the office that vakes, by the judgment of the eldei-ship, [the presbytery], and consent of the congregation to Avhich the person or persons shall be ap- pointed. In the order of election is to be eschewed, that any person be in- truded in any office of the kirk, contrary to the will of the congregation to which they are appointed, or without the voice of the eldership,'' not the elder- ship or session of the congi'egation to which the pei-son is to be appointed, as has been often ignorantly assumed ; but the eklei-ship or presbytery in whose bounds the vacant congi-egation lies, and under whose charge it is necessarily placed in a peculiar manner, by its being vacant, or uithout a public teacher. In perfect unison with the above, when the articles to be reformed are enumer- ated in a following cliapter, pati'onage is one of the most prominent, is declared to have" flowed from the pope and coiTuption of the canon law, in so far as thereby any pei-son was intruded or placed over kirks having curam animarum ; and forasmuch as that manner of proceeding hath no ground in the word of God, but is contrary to the same, and to the said liberty of election, they ought not now to have place in this light of reformation ; and, therefore, whosoever will embrace God's word, and desire the kingdom of his son Christ Jesus to be advanced, they will also embrace and receive that policy and order, which the word of God and upright state of this kirk crave ; otherwise it is in vain that they have professed the same." Though the church had thus (dearly delivered her opinion with regard to patronages, she had never been able to shake herself perfectly free from them, excepting for a few years pre- vious to the restoration of Charles IL, when they >v8re restored in all their mis- chievous pOHcr and tendencies; and the revolution church being set doHH, not upon the attainments ut' tlie second, but upon the less clear and determinate 233 REV, EBENTIZER EUSKINE. ones of the liist refonHnliuii, patronage soniewliat iiioflified, uith other evils, was entailed on the counti^. Something of the light and heat of the more recent, as \vell as more brilliant period still, however, remained ; and in the settlement of the church made by the parliament in the year IG'JO, patronage in its direct f.jrm was set iiside, not as an antichristian abomination, and incompatible with ciu-istian liberty, as it ought to have been, but as " inconvenient and subject to abuse." Tliough this act, however, was the act only of a civil court, it was less remote from scripture and common sense, than this act of the highest ecclesias- tical court in the nation. By that act " upon a vacancy, the heritors, being protestants,'' (by a subsequent act it was provided, that they should be qualified protesUints,) " and the elders, are to name and propose the person to the whole congregation, to be cither approven, or disapproven by theni ; and if they dii- approve, the disapprovers to give in their reasons to the effect the at^air may be cognosced by the presbytery of the bounds, at Avhose judgment, and by whose determination the calling and entry of a particular minister is to be ordered and concluded." By this act, which we by no means admire, the heritors it would appear might have proposed one candidate to the congregation, and the elders another ; nor, whether there was but one candidate or two, had the elec- tion been completed till the congregation had given their voice. But by tiie assembly's act, the heritors and the elders elected as one body ; the work was by them completed ; and, however much the congregation might be dissatisfied, except they could prove the elected person imtnoral in conduct, or en-oneous in doctrine, tiiey had no resource but to submit quietly to the choice of their superiors, the heritors and the elders. The act of 1(590 was liable to great abuse; yet, by the prudent conduct of presbyteries, complaints were for many years comparatively few, and but for the restoration of patrons to their antichristian power, might have continued to be so long enough. For ten or twelve years previous to this period, 1732, patrons had been gaining ground every year, and this act was unquestionably intended to accommodate any little appearance of liberty which remained in the Scottish church to the genius of patronage, w hich was now by the leaders of the domi- nant party declared the only sure if not legitimate door of entrance to the be- nefice, whatever it might be to the affections and the spiritual edification of the people. Tiie measure, however, was incautious and premature. There was a spirit abroad >vhich the ruling faction wanted the means to break, and which tiieir fiequent attempts to bend ought to have taught them was already far be- yond their strength. As an overture and an interim act, it had been almost universally condemned; and, no\v that it was made a standing law, without having gone through the usual forms, and neither protest, dissent, nor remon- strance allowed to be entered against it, nothing reiiuiined for its opponents but, as occasion offered, to testify against it from the pulpit or the press, which many embraced the earliest opportunity of doing. Scarcely, indeed, had the members of assembly reached their respective homes with the report of their proceedings, when, in the evening of the Sabbath, June 4tli, in a sermon from Isaiah ix. (i, the subject of this memoir attacked the obnoxious act with such force of argument as was highly gratifying to its opponents, but peculiarly gal- ling to its abettors, who were everywhere, in the course of a few days, by the l')ud voice of general report, informed of the circumstance, with mani- fold exaggerations. Public, however, as this condemnation of the act of assembly was, 3Ir Erskine did not think it enough. Having occasion, as late moderator, to open the synod of Perth on the 10th day of Octo- ber, the same year, taking for his text, Psalm cxviii, 22, " The Stone which the builders rejected, the same is made the Head Stone of the Cor- KEV. EBENEZER EKSKINE. 233 iier," he delivered himself, on the disputed points, more at large, and with still greater freedom. In this sermon, Mr Erskine asserted, in its full breadth, the doctrine which we have above proved, from her standards, to have all along been the doctrine of the church of Scotland — tliat the election of a minister belonged to the whole body of the people. " The promise," said he, keeping up the figure in the text, "of conduct and counsel in the choice of men that are to build, is not made to patrons and heritors, or any other set of men, but to the church, the body of Christ, to whom apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers are given. As it is a natural privilege of every house or society of men, to have the choice of their own servants or officer; so it is the privileire of the house of (jod in a particular manner. What a miserable bondage would it be reckoned, for any family to have stewards, or servants, imposed on them by strangers, wlio might give tiie children a stone for bread, or a scorpion instead of a fish, poison instead of medicine ; and shall we suppose that our God granted a power to any set of men, patrons, heritors, or whatever they be, a power to impose servants on his family, they being the purest society in the world?" This very plain and homely passage, which, for the truth it contains, and the noble spirit of liberty which it breathes, deserves to be written with an iron pen and lead in the rock for ever, gave great offence to many membei-s of synod, and particularly to 31r 3Iercer of Aberdalgie, who moved that ^Ir Erskine should be rebuked for his freedom of speech, and admonished to be more circumspect for the future. This produced the appointment of a committee, to draw out the passages complained of; which being done, and IMr Ei'skine refusing to retract any thing he had said, the whole was laid before the synod. The synod, after a debate of three dajs, found, by a plurality of six voices, 3Ir Erskine censurable, and ordered him to be rebuked and admonished at their bar accordingly. The presbytery of Stirling was also instructed to notice his behaviour in time coming, at their privy censures, and report to the next meeting of synod. Against this sentence 3Ir Erskine entered his protest, and appealed to the general assembly. 3Ir Alexander 3Ioncrief of Abernethy also protested against this sentence, in which he was joined by a number of his brethren, only two of whom, 3Ir William Wilson of I'ertli, and 3Ir Fisher of Kinclaven, Mr Erskine's son-in-law, became eventually seceders. Firm to their purpose, the synod, on the last sederunt of their meeting, called 3Ir Erskine up to be rebuked ; and he not appearing, it was resolved that he should be rebuked at their next meeting in April. Personal pique against 3Ir Ei-skine, and envy of his extensive popularity, were unfortunately at the bottom of this procedure, which, as it inci'eased that popularity in a tenfold degree, heightened propor- tionally the angry feelings of his opponents, and rendered them incapable of improving the few months that elapsed between the meetings of synod, for tak- ing a more cool and dispassionate view of the subject. The synod met in April, under the same excitation of feeling ; and though the presbytery and the kirk ses- sion of Stirling exerted themselves to the utmost in order to bring about an accom- modation, it was in vain : the representations of the fii'st were disregarded, and the petition of the other was not so much as read. 3Ir Ei-skine being called, and compearing, simply told them that he adhered to his appeal. There cannot be a doubt but that the synod was encouraged to persevere in its wayward course by the leadei-s of the assembly, who were now resolved to lay prostrate every shadow of opposition to their measures. Accordingly, when the assembly met, in the month of 3Iay following, 1733, they commenced proceedings by taking up the case of 3Ir Stark, the intruder into the parish of Kinross, and the pres- bytery of Dunfermline, which they finished in the highest style of authority; probably, in part, for the very purpose of intimidating such as might be dis- 234 REV. EBENEZER ERSKTXE. posed to befriend Mr Erskine on this momentous occasion. Multitudes, it Avas well known, approved of every word Mr Erskine had said ; but when it was \nade apparent with what a high hand they were to be treated, if they took any part in the matter, even those who wished hiiu a safe deliverance might be afraid to take his part. Probably he himself was not without jiainful misgiv- ings when he beheld the tide of authority thus rolling resistlessly along; but he had committed himself, and neither honour nor conscience would allow him to desert the prominence on «hich, in the exercise of his duty, he had come to be placed, though, for the time, it was covered with darkness, and seemed to be surrounded with iLinirer. His appeal to the assembly he supported by reasons alike admirable, whether we consider their pointed bearing on the subject, the piety that runs through them, or the noble spirit of independence which they breathe. The reasons of his appeal were five, of which we can only give a feeble outline. 1st, The imbittered spirit of the greater part of the synod, by nhich they were evidently incapable of giving an impartial judgment. 2nd. The tendency of such pro<;edure to gag the mouths of those, who, by their com- mission, must use all boldness and freedom in dealing with the consciences of men. 3d, Because, though the synod had found him censurable, they had condescended on no one part of the truth of Gods word, or the standards of this church, from which he had receded- 4th, '^The censured expressions, viewed abstractly from the committee's remarks, which the synod disowned, are not only inoffensive but either scriptural or natively founded on scripture. The fifth reason regarded the obnoxious act of assembly, against which he could not retract his testimony, and \vhich the synod, by their procedure, had made a term of ministerial conuuunion, which, for various reasons, he showed could not be so to him. On all these accounts, he claimed, " from the equity of the venerable assembly," a reversal of the sentence of the sj-nod- To 3]r Erskine's appeal 3Ir James Fisher gave in his name as adhering. Reasons of protest were also given in by 3Ir Alexander 3Ioncrief and a number of minis- ters and elders adhering to him, fraught with the most cogent arguments, thoug!i couched in the modest form of supplication rather than assertion. But they h;id all one fate, viz. were considered great aggravations of 3Ir Erskine s origi- nal ofience. The sentence of the synod was confirmed, and, to tenninate the process, Mr Erskine appointed to be rebuked and admonished by the moderator, -at the bar of the assembly ; which was done accordingly. Mr Ei-skine, however, declared that he could not submit to the rebuke and admonition, and gave in a protest for himself, 3Ir Wilson, 3Ir Moncrief, and 3Ir Fisher, each of whom demanded to be heard on their reasons of appeal, but were refused, — Mr 3Ion- crief and 3Ir Wilson, immediately by the assembly, and 3Ir Fisher, by the committee of bills refusing to transmit his reasons, which were, in consequence, left upon the table of the house. The paper was titled, " Protest by 3Ir Eben- ezer Erskine and others, given in to the assembly, 1733.' " .\lthough I have a »ery great and dutiful regard to the judicatures of this church, to whom I own subjection in the Lord, yet, in respect the assembly has found me censurable, and luive tendered a rebuke and admonition to me for thing's I conceive agree- able to the word of God and our approven standards, I find myself obliged to protest against the foresaid censure, as importing that I have, in my doctrine, at the opening of the synod of Perth, in October last, departed from the word of (iod, and tiie foresaid standards, and that I shall be at liberty to preach the same truths of God, and to testify against the same or like defec- tions of this church upon all proper occasions. And I do hereby adhere unto the testiuKjnies I have formerly emitted against the act of assembly, 1732, whether in tiie protest entered against it in open assembly, or yet in my synodi- REV. EBENEZER ERSKTNE. 235 m\ sermon, craving tins my pi-otest and declaration be inserted in the records of assembly, and tliat I be allowed extiMcts thereof: Ebenezer Erskine." " Vi e, undei"sinT.ed subscribei-s, dissenters from the sentence of the synod of Perth and Stirling, do hereby adhere to the above protestation and declaration, con- taining a testimony against the act of assembly 173"2, and asserting our privi- lege and duty to testify publicly against the same or like defections upon all proper o<-.casions : William Wilson, Alexander 3Ioncrief." " I IMr James Fisher, minister at Kinclaven, appellant against the synod of Perth in this ques- tion, although the committee of bills did not think tit to transmit my reasons of appeal, find myself obliged to adhere unto the foresaid protestation and decla- ration : James Fisher." This paper being refen'ed to a committee, that com- mittee returned it with the following overture, which by a great majority of the assembly, was instantly turned into an act : — " The general assembly or- tLiins, that tjie four brethren aforesaid, appear before the commission in August next, and then show their sorrow for their conduct and misbehaviour in offering to protest, and in giving in to this assembly the paper by them su])scribed, and that they then retract the same. And in case they do not appear before the said coimnission in August, and then show their sorrow, and retract as said is, the commission is hereby empowered and appointed to suspend the said bre- thren, or such of them as shall not obey, from the exercise of their ministiy. And farther, in case the said brethren shall be suspended by the said commis- sion, and that they shall act contrary to the said sentence of suspension, the commission is hereby empowered and appointed, at their meeting in November, or any subsequent meeting, to proceed to a higher censure against the said four brethren, or such of them as shall continue to ofl'end by transgi'essing this act. And the general assembly do appoint the several presbyteries of which the said brethren are members, to report to the conmiission in August and subsequent meetings of it, their conduct and behaviour with respect to this act," The four brethren, on this sentence being intimated to them, offered to read the following as their joint speech : — " In regard the venerable assembly have come to a positive sentence without hearing our defence, and have appointed the commis sion to execute the sentence in August, in case we do not reti^act what we have done, we cannot but complain of this uncommon procedui'e, and declare that we are not at liberty to take this affair into avisandum.'''' The assembly, how- ever, would not hear them, and they left their paper on the table, under form of instrument. This sentence excited a deep sensation in every corner of the country, and when the four brethren, as they were now called, appeared before the commis- sion in the month of August, numerous representations were presented in their behalf, stating the evils that were likely to result from persevering in the measures that had been adopted towards them, and recommending caution and delay as the only means whereby matters might be accommodated, and the peace of the church pi-eserved. On 3Ir Erskine's behalf, especially, the peti tions were urgent, and the testimonials to his character strong. " 3Ir Erskine's character," say the presbytery of Stirling in their representation to the commis- sion, " is so established amongst the body of professoi-s of this part of the church, that we believe even the authority of an assembly condemning him can- not lessen it, yea, the condemnation itself, in the present case will tend to heighten it, and in his case, should the sentence be executed, most lamentable consequences would ensue, and most melancholy divisions will be increased ; the success of the gospel in our bounds hindered ; reproach, clamour, and noise will take place ; our congregations be torn in pieces : ministers of Christ will be deserted and misrepresented ; and our enemies will rejoice over us. Tho 236 REV. EBENEZER ERSKTXE. same evils were apprehended by the kirk session of Stirling, and the observa- tions of botii presbytery and session were confirmed by the tOHn council. — " Wo beg leave,'' say they, " briefly to represent that 3Ir Ei-skine was settled as an ordained minister aniongst us for the greater edification of the place, and that with no siaall trouble and expense — that we have always lived in good friend- ship with him, after now two full yeai-s' acquaintance — that we find him to be of a peaceable disposition of mind, and of a religious walk and conversation, and to be every way fitted and qualified for discharging the oflice of the minis- try amongst us, and that he has accordingly discharged the same to our gi-eat satisfaction — that, therefore, our being deprived of hii ministerial performances must undoubtedly be rery moving and afilictive to us, and that the putting the foresaid act (the act of suspension) into execution, we are afraid, will in all like- lihood be attended with very Limentablc circumstances, confusions, and disor- ders, too numerous and tedious to be here rehearsed, and that not only in this place in particular, but also in the church in general." The kirk session and town council of Ferth presented each a representation in favour of 31r Wilson, as did the presbyteries of Dunblane and Ellon, praying the commission to wait at le.ast for the instructions of another assembly. Full of the spirit of the as- sembly which had appointed it, however, the commission Aras deaf to all admo- nitions, refusing to read, or even to allow any of these representations to be read, with the exception of a sujall portion of that from the presbytery of Stir- ling, which might be done as a mark of respect to 3Ir Erskine's character, or it might be intended to awaken the envy and rage of his enemies. 3Ir Erskine prepared himself a pretty full representation, as an appellant from the sentence of tbe synod of Perth and Stirling, as did also 3Ir James Fisher. 3Iessi-s Wilson and 3Ioncrief, as protestei-s ag-ainst that sentence, gave in papers, under form of instrument, insisting upon it as their right to choose their own mode of defence, which was by writing. 3Ir Erskine was allowed, with some ditficulty, to read his paper, but none of the others could obtain the like indulgence, so they de- livered the substance of them in speeches at the bar. They did not difier in substance from those formerly given in, and of which we have already given the reader as liberal specimens as our limits will permit. " In regard they were not convicted of departing from any of the received principles of the church of Scotland, or of counteracting their ordination vows and engagements ; they protested that it siiould be lawful and warrantable for them to exercise their min- istry as heretolore they had done ; and that they should not be chargeable with any of the lamentable etlects that might follow upon the course taken with them." I'lie conmiission, without any hesitation, suspended them from the ex- trcise of the ministerial function in all its parts. Against this sentence they renewed their protestations, and paid no regard to it, as all of them confessed when brought before the commission in the month of November. Applications in their behalf were more numerous, at the meeting of the connnission, in No- vember, than they had been in August, and they had the advantage of those of August, in tiiat they were read. The prayer of them all was delay; and it carried in the commission, to proceed to a higher censure only by the casting vote of 3Ir Goldie, (orGowdie.) the moderator. The sentence was pronounced on the 16th day of November, 1733, to the follo\ving efiect : — " The connnission of tiie gen- eral assembly did, anil hereby do, loose the pastoral relation of 3Ir Ebenezer lirskine, minister at Stirling, ^Ir Williiim Wilson, minister at Perth, 3Ir .\lex- ander 3Ioncrief, minister at Abernethy, and 3Ir James Fisher, minister at Kinclaven, to their said respective charges ; and do declare them no longer ministei-s of this church. And do hereby prohibit all ministei-s of this church to employ them, or any of them, in any ministerial function. And the commis- REV. EBENEZER ERSKINE. 237 eion do declaie the duirclies of the said Messrs Erskiiie, Wilson, JMoiiiTief, and Fislier, vacant from and after the date of tliis sentence." Extracts were also, by tlie sentence, ordered to be sent with lettei-s to the several presbyteries in whose bounds the said ministers had their charges, ordering intimation of the sentence to be made in tlie several vacant churches. Letters, intimating the sentence, were also ordered to the magistrates of Perth and Stirling, to tiie sheriti' principal of Perth, and baillie of the regality of Abernethy. Against this sentence, Mr Erskine and his brethren took the following protestation, which may be considered as the basis, or constitution, of the secession church. " We hereby adhere to the protesta- tion formerly entered before this court, both at tiieir last meeting in August, and when we appeared before this meeting. And, farther, we do protest, in our own nauie, and in the name of all and every one in our respective congrega- tions adiiering to us, that, notwithstanding of this sentence passed against us, our pastoral relation shall be held and reputed firm and valid. And, likewise, we protest, that, not\vitIistanding of our being cast out from ministerial com- munion with the est;iblished church of Scotland, we still hold connnunion with all and every one who desire, with us, to adiiere to the principles of the true presbyterian church of Scotland, in her doctrine, worship, government, and dis- cipline, and particularly with all who ai'e groaning under the evils, and who ai'e afflicted with the grievances we have been complaining of, and who are, in their several spheres, wrestling against the same. But in regard the prevailing party in this established church, who have now cast us out from ministerial com- munion with them, are carrying on a course of defection from our reformed and covenanted principles, and particulai'ly are suppressing ministerial freedom and faithfulness in testifying against the present backslidings, and inflicting censures upon ministers for witnessing, by protestations and otherwise, against the same. Therefore we do, for these and many other weighty reasons, to be laid open in due time, protest that we are obliged to make a secession from them, and that we can hold no ministerial connnunion with them till tiiey see their sins and mistakes, and amend them ; and in like manner, we do protest that it shall be Lawful and warrantable for us to exercise the keys of doctrine, disci- pline, and government, according to the word of God, and confession of faith, and the principles and constitution of the covenanted church of Scotland, as if no such censure had been passed upon us ; upon all which we take instruments. And we do hereby appeal to the first free, faithful, and reforming general as- sembly of the church of Scotland." Mr Gabriel Wilson, of Maxton, one of tlie eleven brethren who, thirteen years before this, had been joined with Mr Erskine in the defence of the 3IaiTow, took a protest against the sentence at the same time, which was adhered to by Ralph Erskine, Dunfermline ; Thomas Muir, Orwell ; John Maclaurin, Edinburgh ; John Currie, Kiuglassie, after- wards the most bitter enemy of the secession; James Wardlaw, Dunferudine, and Thomas Nairn, Abbotshall ; the gi-eater part of whom lived to advance the interests of the secession. In this violent struggle for the church's and the people's liberties, Mr Erskine was ably supported by his three brethren, 3Iessrs Wilson, Moncrief, and Fisher, and his popularity Mas extended beyond what might be supposed reasonable limits. His congregation clung to him with increasing fondness, and his wortiiy colleague, Mr Alexander Hamilton, during the short time he lived after the rise of the secession, ceased not to show him the warmest regard by praying public- ly, both for him and the associate presbytery. This presbytery was constituted with soleuni prayer, by Mr Ebenezer Erskine at Gairny Uridge, near Kinross, on the 6th day of December, 1733, the greater part of that, and the whole of the preceding day having been spent in prayer. The associate presbytery 238 KEV. EBENEZER ERSKINE. consisted at tu-st only of the four brethren ; for though Messrs Ralph Erskine and Thomas 3Iuir were both present at its constituting, they were only si)ecta- tors. Though they had thus put themselves in a posture to work, they did not proceed for some yeai-s to any judicative acts, further tlian publishing pa- pei-s relating to the public cause in which they were engaged ; these were a re- view of tlie narrative and state of the proceedings against them, issued by a committee of the coinniission of the general assembly, published in 3Iarcli, 1734 ; and a testunony to the doctrine, worship, and government of the church of Scot- land, or reasons for their protestation entered before the commission of the general assembly, in November, 1733, &c. This has been since known by the name of the extrajudicial testimony. In these papei's Mr Erskine had his full share, and they had an etiect upon the public mind, which alarmed the rul- ing faction in tlie church not a little, and drove them upon measures which could hardly have been anticipated. The friends of the seceders indeed made an extraortlinary bustle, many of them from no sincere motives, some of them anxious to heal the breach, and others of them only anxious for a pretext to stand by and do nothing in the matter. The leaders of the assembly, too, fear- ful of the consequences of a system that was untried, were willing to concede something at the present time, to outraged orthodoxy, knowing well that though they could not recall the past, they might yet, by a semblance of nxoderalion, pre- serve on their side a number of tiie more timid of the friends of the secedeis \vho had not yet declared themselves, by whicli the schism, though not totally healed, might be greatly circumscribed. Accordingly, the next assembly when it met in the month of May, 1734, was found to be of a somewhat ditierent com- plexion from a number that had preceded it. There was still, ho^vever, as one of its members and its great admirer has remarked, " the mighty opposition of great men, ruling eldei-s. who had a strong party in tlie house to support them," and who took effectual care, that nothing should be done in the way of refornui- tion, further than might be justified by a calculating worldly policy. In passing the commission book, sundi-y reservations were made of a I'ather novel kind, and among others, the sentence passed against 3Ir Ei-skine and his three brethren. The act of 1730, forbidding the registering of dissents, and the act of 1732, concerning the planting of vacant churches, were both declared to be no longer binding rules in the church. The synod of Perth and Stirling were also em- powered to take up the case of 3Ii- Erskine, and without inquiring into the le- gality or justice of any of the steps that had been taken on either side, restore the harmony and peace of the church, and for this purpose they were to meet on the first Tuesday of July next. Never had any synod before this such a task enjoined them. The preceding assembly had enjoined its commission to do all that had been done toward 3Ir Erskine and his friends. This assembly enjoins the synod to reverse all that had been done by the commission, but with the express promise, that they shall not take it upon them to judge either of the legality or the formality of the proceedings they were thus ordered to revei-se. Upon what principle was the synod to proceed ? If the sentence of the commission was pronounced on proper gi-ounds, and the subjects of it had given no signs of repentance, the assembly itself could not warrantably nor consistently take it oft! This, " the great men, the ruling elders, who had a strong party in the house to support them, were perfectly aware of; but there were a few men, such as W'illison, Currie, and 31acintosh, who they knew had a hankering after the seceders, and whom they wished to secure upon their own side, and they served them by an act more absurd than any of those that had occasioned the sc(;ession ; an act requiring a synod to reverse a sentence, that either was or ought to have been pronounced in the name of the Lord Jesua REV. EBENEZER ERSKINB. 239 Christ, witliout inquiring into its validity, or pi-esiiniing to give an opinion re- specting it ? The synod, however, hasted to perform the duty assigned tliem, and on the second of Jidy, ITSl, met at Perth, when, in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, they took off the sentences from all the four brethren, restoring them to their standing in the church, ordered their names to be placed upon the presbytery and synod rolls, as if there had never been act, sentence, or impediment in their way. The seceders had too much peneti'ation to be gulled by this invention, and too much honesty to accept of the seeming boon ; but it answered the main purpose that it was intended to serve, it afforded a handle for reviving a popular clamour against them, and proved an excellent excuse for their summer friends to desert them. The relbrniing fit was past in the meeting of next assembly in 1736, which was as violent in its proceedings as any that had preceded it. 3Ir Erskine and his friends now despairing of any speedy reforma- tions in the judicatories, published their reasons for not acceding to these judica- tions, and proceeded to prepare the judicial act and testimony, which, after many diets of fasting and prayer, was enacted at their twenty-fourth presbyterial meet- ing, in the month of December, 1736. 3Ir Erskine continued all this time to occu- py his own parish church, and was attended with the same i"cspectful attention as ever. In the year 173 S, the assembly began to persecute 3Ir Erskine and his friends, who were now considerably increased. In the year 1739, he, along with his brethren, was served with a libel to appear before the general as- sembly, where they appeared as a constituted presbytery, and by their modera- tor gave in a paper, declining the authority of the court The assembly, how- ever, delayed giving sentence against them till next year, 1740, when they were all deposed, and ordered to be ejected from their churches. On the sabbath after this, 3Ir Ei-skine retired with his congregation to a convenient place in the fields, where he continued to preach till a spacious meeting-house was prepared by his people, all of whom adhered to him, and in this house he continued to officiate when ability served till the day of his death. In the year 1742, ]Mr Erskine was employed, along with 3Ir Alexander 3Ioncrief, to en- large the secession testimony, whicli they did by that most excellent and well known little work, entitled an act anent the doctrine of grace. About this period he had also some correspondence with 3Ir George Whitefield, which ter- minated in a way that could not be pleasing to either party. Along ^vith the doctrines of grace, the associate presbytery took into consideration the pro- priety of renewing the national covenants. An overture to this purpose Avas approved of by the presbytery on the twenty-first of October, 1742, the same day that they passed the act anent the doctrine of gTace. That a work of so much solemnity might be gone about Avith all due deliberation, the presbytery agreed that there should be room left for all the members to state freely what- ever difficulties they might have upon the subject, and it accordingly lay over till the twenty-third of December, 1743, when the overture, with sundry amend- ments and enlargements, was unanimously approved of and enacted. A solemn acknowledgment of sins being prepared for the occasion, and a solemn en- gagement to duties, on the twenty-eighth of December, 31r Erskine preached a senuon at Stirling, the day being observed as a day of solemn fasting and hu- miliation, after which the confession of sins was read, and the engagement to duties sworn to and subscribed by fifteen ministers, of whom Ebenezer Erskine was the first that subscribed. Shortly^ after, the same thing was done- at Fal- kirk, where five ministers more subscribed. In tliis work no man of the body was more hearty than 3Ir Ebenezer Erskine ; and it went through a number of congregations, till a stop was put to it by the question that arose respecting the religious clause of some burgess oaths, which it was alleged were utterly incon- 240 EEV. EBENEZER ERSKINE. bistent with the oatli of the covenants, and uitli the geco'ision testiinoiiy. Tlie associate prosljytery had ah-eady determined tlie oaths of abjuration and allegi- ance to be sinful, as embracing the complex constitution, and was of course in- compatible with the testimony whicli tliey had emitted against that complex constitution. At the last meeting of the associate presbytery, Mv Alexander Moncrief gave in a paper, stating his scruples with regard to the religious clause of some burgess oaths, which he apprehended, would be found when ex- amined, to be equally sinful with those they had already condemned. The dis- solution of the associate presbytery being determined on, the question was re- served for a first essay of the associate synod. Accordingly, when the synod met in the month of March, 1745, it was among the first motions that came before them ; and after much discussion, the synod, in the month of April, 1746, found " that the swearing the religious clause in some burgess oaths, — * Here I protest before God and your lordships, that I profess and allow within my heart, the true religion presently professed within this realm, and author- ized by the laws thereof; I shall ahide thereat and defend the same to my life's end, renouncing the Komish religion, called papistry,' — by any under their in- spection, as the said clause comes necessarily in this period to be used and ap- plied in a way that does not agree unto the present state and circumstances of the testimony for religion and refonnation which this synod, with those under their in- spection, are maintaining ; particularly, that it does not agree unto nor consist with an entering into the bond for renewing our solemn covenants, and that, therefore, those seceding cannot farther, with safety of conscience and without sin, swear any burgess oath with the said religious clause, while matters, with reference to the profession and settlement of religion, continue in such circum- stances as at present," &c. When this subject was first stated, it did not ap- pear to be attended either Avitli difficulty or danger. Questions of much more intricacy had been discussed at great length, and hannoniously disposed of by the associate presbytery; and the above decision, we are persuaded every un- biassed reader, when he reflects that it was intended to bind only those who liad already acceded to the sederunt act and testimony, will think that it should have given entire satisfaction. Tiiis, however, was far from being the case. Some personal pique seems to have subsisted between two of the mem- bers of coiu-t, Mr flioncrief and Mr Fisher ; in consequence of which, the latter regarded the conduct of tlie former with some suspicion. Being son-in-law to Mr Ebcnezer Erskine, the latter, too, was supported by both the Erskines, who were the idols of the body, and on this occasion gave most humiliating evidence of the power of prejudice to darken the clearest intellects, and to pervert the purest and the warmest hearts. The question was simple — What was meant by tliose who framed and now imposed the oath ? Was it the true religion ab- stractly considered, that was to be acknowledged by the swearer ? or w as it not rather the true religion embodied in a particular form, and guaranteed by par- ticular laws, to insure the integrity of which, the oath was principally intended ? Either this was the case, or the oath was supcrlluous and muneaning, and of course could not be la\vfully sworn by any one, whatever might be his opinions, as in that case it would have been a taking of the name of God in vain. True, however, it is, that volumes were written, of which no small portion came from the pens of the venerable Ralph Erskine and the worthy Mr James Fisher, to prove that nothing was sworn to in the oath but the true religion, abstracting- from all the accompanying and q'lalifying clauses thereof. A protest against the above de<;ision of synod was taken by Messrs Ralph Erskine, .lames Fisher, William llulton, Henry Erskine, and John fll'Cara, in which tliey were joined by two elders, and by the time of next meeting of synod, the whole body was REV. EBENEZER ERSKINE, 241 in a flame, every indhiiliial liaving committed liimself on the one side or the other. When the synod met on the 7th of April, 1747, the subject was i-esumed with a warmth that indicated not ardour, but absolute frenzy. The protestci's against the former decision of the question, instead of bringing up their reasons of pro- test, as order and decency required, began by renewing the original question, Wlietber the act of synod was to be made a tenia of communion before it should be sent round in the form of an overture, to sessions and presbyteries for their judgment there-anent ; the members of synod in the meantime praying and conferring with one another for light upon the subject. To this it was opposed as a previous question — Call for the reasons of protest, and the answers thereun- to, that tliey may be read and considered. The question being put, which of the two questions should be voted, it carried for the first ; from tbis Mr W, Campbell entered his dissent, to which 3Ir Thomas Moir and Mr Moncrief adhered. Next morning the protesters resumed the question Avith renewed ar- dour, or rather rage, Mr IVIoir again entered his protest, followed by eleven ministers, and ten elders. The protesters still insisting for their question, the whole day was wasted in shameful discussions ; 3Ir Gibb protesting against the proposal of the pi'otesters, in a new and somewhat startling form. Having ad- journed one hour, the synod met again at eight, or between eight and nine o'clock, p. m., when the war of Avords was renewed for several hours, the pro- testei's still insisting upon having the vote put ; a protest against it was again entered by Mr IMoncrief, which was adhered to by twelve ministers and ten elders. The moderator of course refused to put the vote, as did the clerk pro tempore; one of the party then railed the roll, another marked the votes, the sum total of which, was nine ministers and eleven eldei's, and of these, six min- isters and one elder were protesters, and of course, parties in the cause that had not the smallest right to vote on the subject. In this way, twenty voters, and of these twenty only thirteen legal voters, carried a deed against twenty- three, standing before them in solenui opposition under cover of all legal forms that, in the circumstances in Avhich they stood, it was possible for them to em- ploy. In this most extraordinary crisis, Mr Moir, the moderator of the former meeting of synod, considering the pi-esent moderator as having ceased to act, claimed that place for himself, and the powers of the associate synod for those ■who had stood firm under their protest against such disorderly procedure, whom he requested to meet in IMr (iibb's house to-morrow, to transact the business of the associate synod. They did so, and thus one part of the associate synod was reconstituted. • The other part met next day in the usual place, having the moderator, though he had deserted them the niglit before, along with them, and the clerk j9ro tempore; on which they returned themselves as being the true as- sociate synod. Whatever superiority in point of order was between them, en- tirely belonged to the party that met in ^\x Gibb's house, and have since been known by the name of antiburghers ; and they showed some sense of shame by making open confession of the sad display which they had made of their own corruptions, in managing what they then and still considered to be the cause ot God. The other party were certainly even in this respect the more culpable; but having the unfettered possession of their beloved oath, they seem to have been more at ease witli tiiemselves, than their brethren. A more deplorable circumstance certainly never took place in any regularly consti- tuted church, nor one that more completely demonsti'ated how little the wisest and the best of men are to be depended on when they are left to the in- fluence of their own spirits. The very individual persons who, in a long and painful dispute with the established judicature, upon points of the highest ini- II. *^ 2H ^ * 242 UENRY ERSKINE. portance, had conducted themselves witii singulnr judgment, prudence, and pro- priety, here, upon a very tritling question, and of easy solution, heiiaved in a manner not only disgraceful to the christian but to the human dwiracter ; violat- ing^ in their case, to carry a point of very little moment, the first principles of order, without preserving which it is impossible to carry on rationally the arthirs of ordinary society. In all this unliappy business we blush to be obliged to acknowledge tliat Ebenezer Erskine had an active Iwnd ; he stood in front of the list of the burgher presbytery, and, if we may believe the report of some who boast of being his admirei-s, abated considerably after this of his zeal for the principles of the refonuation. lie certainly lost much of his respectability by the share he had in augmenting the storm which his age and his experience sliould have been employed to moderate, and it must have been but an unplea- sant subject for his after meditations. He was after this engaged in nothing of public importance. He lived indeed only seven years after this, and the better half of them under considerable infirmity. He died on the twenty- second of June, 1756, aged seventy-four years, saving one month. He was bui-ied by his own desire, in the middle of his meeting-house, where a large stone with a Latin inscription, recording the date of his death, his age, and the periods of his ministry at Portmoak and Stirling, still marks out the spot. 3Ir Ei"skine was twice married ; fii-st, as ^ve have already mentioned, to that excel- lent woman, Alison Terpie, who died sometime in the year 1720. He married three years afterwards a daughter of the Rev. James Webster, Edinburgh, who also died before him. He left behind him several children, one of whom, a ! daughter, died so late as the year IS 14. Of his character we have scarcely jj left ourselves room to speak. As a writer of sermons he is sound, savoiry, and |j practical, abounding in clear views of the gospel, ^vith its uses and influence in : I promoting holiness of life. As a preacher, he was distinguished among the ! ' greatest men of his day. In learning, and in compass of mind, he was infei-ior |i to the author of "The Trust," and, for keen and penetrating genius, to the author | j of " The Defence of the reformation principles of the church of Scotland ;" but for | ■ straight forward good sense, incon-uptible integrity, and dauntless intrepidity, he ' | was equal to any man of the age in which he lived- | j ERSKINE, Henry, third lord Cardross, one of the most distinguished patri- M ots of the seventeenth century, was the eldest son of the second lord Cardross, i ! who, in his turn, was grandson to John, seventh earl of 3IaiT, the eminent and ; I faithful counsellor of King James VI, By his mother, Anne Hope, the subject j I of our memoir was grandson to Sir Thonuis Hope, king's advocate, the chief j legal counsellor of the covenantei-s in the early years of the civil w£u-. It may 1 1 also be mentioned, that colonel Erskine of Carnock, father to the author of " tlie ! j Institutes," was a half-brother of lord Cardross. | j The father of this eminent patriot, was one of the seven Scottish lords who protested against the redditioa of Charles I. to the English army, and he edu- i cated his son in the same principles of honour and fidelity to the laws, and to personal engagements, which inspired himself. Lord Henn," was born about j It) 50, and succeeded his father in ltj71. Having also succeeded to all the i liberal principles of the family, he at once joined himself, on entering life, to j the opposers of the Lauderdale administration, lliis soon exposed him to per- secution, and in 1674 he was fined in £.5000, because his lady had heard wor- sliip performed in his own house by a non-conforming chaplain. His lordship j paid £1,000 of this fine, and after attending the court for six months, in the I vain endeavour to procure a remission for the rest, was imprisoned in Edinburgh | castle, where he continued for four years. While he was thus suffering capli- j vity, a party of soldiers visited his house, and, after treating his lady with ilie ! HON. HENRY ERSKINE. 243 greatest incivility, and breaking up tlie closet in which he kept his papers, es- tablished a garrison, uhich continued tiiere for eight years. Two years after- wards, while he was still in prison, his lady havini^ been delivered of a child, whom she caused to be baptized (without his knowldge), by a non-conforming clergyman, another fine of i'3,000 wis imposed upon him, being purposely thus severe, in order that he might be retained in prison, through inability to pay it. So meanly revengeful was the feeling of the government, that, when the royal forces were on their march to Bothwell bvidi^e, in June IG7'J, they were taken two miles out of their proper line ot march, in order that they might quarter upon his lordsliip's estates of Kirkhill and L7phall, and do them all the mischief possible. In July 1679, lord Cardross was released, on giving bond for the amount of his fine. He went to court, to give an account of his sufferings, and solicit some redress. But the infamous privy council of Scotland counteracted all his ef- forls. Finding no hope of further comfort in his own country, and that there ■was little probability of the British nation contriving to throw off the odious bondage in wiiich it w\is kept, he resolved to seek refuge and freedom in a distant land. He perhaps acted upon the philosophical maxim, thus laid clown by Plato, " If any one shall observe a great company ran out into the rain every day, and delight to be wet in it, and if he judges, that it will be to little purpose for him to go and persuade them to come into their houses and avoid the rain, so that all that can be expected from his going to speak to them, will be, that he will be wet ^vith them ; would it not be much better for him to keep within doors, and preserve himself, since he cannot correct the folly of others?" Lord Cardross engaged witli those who settled on Charlestown Neck, in South Carolina, where he established a plantation. From thence, a few years after- wards, he and his people were driven by the Spaniards, many of the colonists being killed, and almost all their effects destroyed. Dispirited, but not broken by his misfortunes, the Scottish patriot returned to Europe, and took up his abode at the Hague, where many others of his persecuted countrymen now found shelter. Entering into the service of Holland, he accompanied the prince of Orange on his expedition to England, his son David conmuinding a company in the same army. He was of great service in Scotland, under general ?.lackay, in promoting the revolution settlement, which at length put an end to the mis- eiies endured for many years by himself, and by his country at large. He was now restored to his estates, sworn a privy counsellor, and honoured with much of the friendship and confidence of king William. His health, liowever, pre- viously much impaired by his imprisonment, and the fatigue of his American plantation, sunk under his latter exertions, and he died at Edinburgh, 3Iay 2 1st, 1693, in the forty-fourth year of his age. The late venerable earl of Buchan, and his two brothers, Henry and Thomas Erskine, were the great- grandcliildren of lord Cardross. ERSKINE, (Honourable) Henry, an eminent pleader, was the third son of Henry David, tenth earl of Buchan, by Agnes, daughter of Sir James Stewart of Coltness and Goodtrees, Baronet. He was born at Edinburgh, on the 1st of November, 1746, O.S. His fame has been eclipsed by that of his younger and more illustrious brother, Thomas lord Erskine, mIio rose to the dignity of lord high chancellor of Great Britain ; but his name, nevertheless, holds a dis- tinguished place in the annals of the Scottish bar, to which he was called in the year 176 8, and of which he was long the brightest ornament. jMr Erskine's education was begun under the paternal roof. He Avas after- wards sent, with his two brothers, to the college of St Andrews ; whence they were subsequently transferred to the university of Edinburgh, and latterly to 241 HON. HENRY ERSKINE. that of Glasgow. As his patrimony waa small, Henry was taught to look forward to a profession, as the only avenue to fortune ; and he early decided on that of tlie bar, while liis younger Ijrother resolved to push his fortune in the army. It was in the Koriini, a promiscuous debating society established in Edin- burgh, that young Ei-skine's oratorical powers firet began to attract notice. While prosecuting liis leg\d sttulies, and qualifying himself for the arduous duties of his protession, he Ibund leisure to attend tlie l'\)runi, and take an active part in its debates. It was in this scliool that he laid the foundation of those powers of extemporary speaking, by which in after years he wielded at will the feelings of his auditors, and raised forensic practice, if not to the mo- dels of ancient oratory, at least to something imiueasur;ibly above the dull, cold, circumlocutory forms of speech in which the lords of council and session were then wont to be addressed. Another arena upon which Henry Erskine trained himself to exhibitions of higher oratory than had yet been dreamt of by his professional brethren, was the general assembly of the kirk of Scotland, of which it was then said with greater truth than it would be now, that it afforded the best theatre for deliberative eloquence to be found in Scotland. Here his lineage, talents, and orthodox sentiments commanded respect ; and accordingly he was always listened to by that venerable body with the greatest deference and attention. Mr Erskine was equalled, perhaps surpassed in depth of legal knowledge, by one or two of his fellows at the bar ; but none could boast of equal variety and extent of accomplishments ; none surpassed him in knowledge of human character ; and none equalled him in quickness of perception, playfulness of I'ancy, and professional tact. He was the Horace of the profession ; and his " seria commixta jocis " are still remembered with pleasure by his surviving contemporaries. Yet, while by the unanimous suffrages of the public, 3Ir Er- skine found himself placed without a rival at the head of a conuuanding pro- fession, his general deportment was characterized by the most unaffected modesty and easy affability, and his talents were not less at the service of in- digent but deserving clients, than they were to be commanded by those whose wealth or inlluence enabled them most liberally to remunerate his exertions. Indeed his talents were never more conspicuous than when they were employed in protecting innocence from oppression, in vindicjiting the cause of the op- pressed, or exposing the injustice of the oppressor. Henry Ei-skine was in an eminent sense the advocate of the people, throughout the long course of his professional career ; he was never known to turn his back upon the poor man ; or to proportion his services to the ability of his employers to reward them. It is said that a poor man, in a remote district of Scotland, thus answered an acquaintance «iio wished to dissuade him from engaging in a law-suit with a wealthy neighbour, by representing the hopelessness of liis being able to meet the expense of litigation : *' Ye dinna ken what ye're saying, maister ; there's no a puir man in a' Scotland need to want a friend or fear an enemy sae lang as Harry Erskine lives !" When Mr Erskine deemed liis independence secured, he married Cliristina the only daugliter of (ieorge Eullarton, Esq., collector of the customs at Leith. Tills lady brouglit him a handsome fortune ; but, with the prospect of a pretty numerous family before him, 31r ICrskine continued assiduously to practise his profession. 15y this lady lie had three daughters : Elizabeth Frances, who died young ; Elizabeth Crompton, afterwards IMi-s (Jallendar ; and Henrietta, now Mrs Smith, together witii two sons, Henry and (jeorge, the former of whom married the eldest daughter of the late Sir Charles Shipley in 1811, and is now earl of Buchan. HON. HENRY ERSKINE. 245 IMr Ersklne, like his elder biotlier, had early embraced the principles of whigijism ; and this disliiiguislied family, durin;^ the progress of the American war, openly expressed their de(;ided disapprobation of the course uhich min- isters were piirsiiing in that unfortunate contest. Opposition was a more serious tiling in these times, than it has since become ; to oppose ministei-s was consid- ered tantamount to disaffection to the constitution, and often exposed a man to serious loss and inconvenience. 3Ir Erskine's abilities, indeed, were beyond the reach of detraction ; and his practice at the bar was founded upon a reputation too extensive to be easily shaken ; but it cannot be doubted that, in espousing the liberal side of politics, he was sacrificing to no small amount his prospects of preferment. At the conclusion, therefore, of the American war, and the accession of the Rockingham administration, 3Ir Erskine's merits pointed him out as the fittest member of faculty, for the important office of lord advocate of Scotland, to which he was immediately appointed. But his opportunities to support the new adnunistration were few, on account of its ephemeral existence; and on its retirement, he was immediately stripped of his official dignity, and even some years afterwards deprived, by the vote of his brethi-en, on account of his obnoxious political sentiments, of the honourable office of dean of faculty. On the return of the liberal party to office in ] 806, Henry Erskine once more became lord advocate, and was returned member for the Dumfries district of burghs, in the room of major general Dalrymple. This, however, like the for- mer whig administration, was not suffered to continue long in power, and with its dissolution, IMr Erskine again lost his office and seat in parliament. Amid these disappointments, Mr Erskine remained not less distinguished by in- flexible steadiness to his principles, than by invariable gentleness and ur- banity in his manner of asserting them. " Such, indeed," says one of his most distinguished contemporaries, " was the habitual sweetness of his temper, and the fascination of his manners, that, though placed by his rank and talent in the obnoxious station of a leader of opposition, at a period when poli- tical animosities were carried to a lamentable height, no individual, it is be- lieved, was ever known to speak or to think of him, with any thing approach- ing to personal hostility. In return it may be said, with equal coi'rectness, that though baffled in some of his pursuits, and not quite handsomely disappointed of some of the honours to which his claim was universally admitted, he never allowed the slightest shade of discontent to rest upon his mind, nor the least drop of bitterness to mingle with his blood. He was so utterly incapable of rancour, that even the rancorous felt that he ought not to be made its victim." Mr Erskine's constitution began to give way under the pressure of disease, about the year 1812 ; and he, thereupon, retired from professional life, to his beautiful villa of Ammondell in West Lothian, which originally formed part of the patrimonial estate, but was transferi'ed to the subject of our memoir by his elder brother about the year 1795, to serve as a retreat from the fatigues of business during the vacation. " Passing thus," says the eloquent writer already quoted, " at once from all the bustle and excitement of a public life, to a scene of comparative inactivity, he never felt a moment of ennui or dejection ; but re- tained unimpaired, till within a day or two of his death, not only all his intel- lectual activity and social affections, but, when not under the immediate atllic- tion of a painful and incurable disease, all that gayety of spirit, and all that play- ful and kindly sympathy with innocent enjoyment, which made him the idol of the young, and the object of cordial attachment and unenvying admiration to his friends of all ages." The five remaining years of his life were consumed by a complication of maladies ; and he expired at his country-seat on the 8th of October, 1817, when he had nearly completed the 71st year of his age. '^40 HON. HENRY ERSKINE. In pereon, 3Ir Ilenry Erskine w;is above the niidtile size; he was taller than either of his brotliers, and well-proportioned, but slender; and in the bloom ol" manhood, was considered handsome in no common degree. In early liie, his carriage was remarlvably gracelul ; and so persuasive was his address, that he never tailed to attract attention, and by the spell of irresistible fascination, to (ix and enchain it. liis features were all (-haracter, — his voice was powerful and melodious, — his enunciation unconnnonly accurate, and distinct, — and there was a peculiar grace in his utterance, which enhanced the value of all he said, and engraved the remembrance of his eloquence indelibly on the minds of his hearers. His habits Mere domestic in an eminent degree. It has been said of men of wit in general, that they delight and fascinate every where but at home ; this observation, however, though too generally true, could not be ajjplied to him, for no man delighted moi"e iu the enjoyment of home, or felt more truly liappy in tlie bosom of his family, while at the same time none were more rapable of entering into the gayeiies of polished society, or more courted for the brilliancy of his wit, and the ease and polish of his manners. "The character of Mr Erskine's eloquence," says another friend, well capable of estimating his merits, " bore a strong i-esemblance to that of his noble bro- ther ; but being much less diffuse, it was better calculated to leave a forcible impression. He had the art of concentrating his ideas, and presenting them at once in so luminous and irresistible a form, as to render his hearers master of the view he took of his subject, which, however dry or complex in its nature, never failed to become entertaining and instructive in his hands ; for to profes- sional knowledge of the highest order, he united a most extensive acquaintance with history, literature, and science, and a thorough conversancy with human life." His oratory was of that «;omprehensive spe(;ies which can address itself to every audience, and to every circumstance, and touch every chord of human emotion. Fervid and affecting in the extreme degree, when the occasion called for it : it was no less powerful, in opposite circumstances, by the potency of wit and the in-esistible force of comic humour, wliich he could make use of at all times, and in perfect subordination to his judgment. " In hib profession, indeed, all his art was argument, and each of his delightful illustrations a mate- rial step in his reasoning. To himself it seemed always as if they were recom- mended rather for their use than their beauty ; and unquestionably they often enabled him to state a fine argument, or a nice distinction, not only in a more striking and pleasing way, but actually with greater precision than could have been obtained by the severer forms of reasoning. In this extraordinary talent, as well as in the charming facility of his eloquence, and the constant radiance of good humour and gayety which encircled his manners in debate, he had no rival in his own times, and as yet has no successor. That part of eloquence is now mute, that honour in abeyance." There exists a bust of Mr Erskine, from the chisel of Turnerelli. We are not aware that any good portrait of him was ever taken. ' After tlio above account of Mr Erskino was written, wo happened to read a very pleasing account of him in liis latter «"as the first man who made a decided attempt to overcome this prejudice, thereby foretelling his o«ti fitness to burst through moial clouds of still srreater density, and far more pernicious. Previous to 1 540, he was one of the limited number of persons who, notwithstanding the persecuting dis- position of James V., had embraced the protesiant religion : in doing so, far from being led bv mercenar\- motives, as many afterwards -were, he and his friends were inspired solely with a love of what they considered the truth, and, for that sake, encountered very great dangers. His house of Dun, near 3Ion- trose, was constantly open to the itinerant preachers of the reformed doctrines, who, though liable to persecution in other pkices, seem to have always enjoyed, through tlie respeaabiliiy of his personal character, as well as his w ealih and baro- nial influence, an immunity for the time during Avhich they resided with him. Though he must have been unfavourable to the war with England, commenced by the catholic part)', in 1547, he appears to liave been too much of a patriot to en- dure the devastations committed upon his native countn by the enemy. His bio- graphers dwell with pride on a very successful attack which he made, with a small party, upon a baud of Eneiish, who had landed near 31ontrose for the purpose of laying Avaste the country. On this occasion, out of eighty invaders, hardly a third of them got back to their ships. When John Knox returned to Scot- land in 1555, Erskine of Dun was amonsr those who repaired to hear his private niiuisii-ations in the house of a citizen of Edinburgh, llie reformer soon after lolloAved him to Dun, w here he preached daily for a month to the people of the neighbourhood: next year he renewed his visit, and succeeded in converting nearly all the gentry of ihe district. In 1557, Erskine was one of the few influential persons who signed tlie first covenant, and established A\hat was called the CongTegation. In the succeeding year, he was one of the commissioners sent by the queen regent, !\Liiy of Lor- mine, to witneis the marriage of her daughter 3Iary to the dauphin. While old English or Scottish airs ; — eornelimes, ' Let's have a dance upon the heath,' an air froia the music in Macbtih, which he used to say was by PurceJ, and not by Locke, to whom it has usually been ascrih>ed — sometimes, ' The flowers of the forest,' or ' Auld Robiu Gray' — and sometimes the beautiful P;isionile from the eighth concerto of CortLi, for whos* music he had an enthusihstic admiration. But the greatest treat to me was when, after dinner, he took down from tlie top of his bookcase, where it lay thrhind a bust, I think, of Mr Fox, his manuscript book, fuU of Jem u'e'jrril, charades, bon mois, So?., all his own composition. I was then too \ouiig, and, I trust, too modtst, to venture any opinion upon their merits; but I well recollect the delight with which 1 listened, and Mr Erskine was not above beiuf gratified by the silent homage of a youthful mind. " Few men have ever enjo)ed a wider reputation for wit than the Honourable Henry Erskine ; the epithet then, and even now, applied to him, ;vho was dragged to the s:ake to expiate his attachment to the new doctrines. The people %vere inflamed with resent- ment at this ouu*age, and now longed for more decisive measures being taken on the subject of religion. To counteract this enthusLism, the queen regent summoned the preachers to appear at Stirling, and undergo trial for their here* tical doctrines. Ihe protestam gentn,-, having resolved to protect them, met at Perth, and Erskine of Dun was employed to go to Stirling, to seek an accommo- dation with the queen. It is well kno^vn that he succeeded in obtaining a re- spite for the ministers, thousrh not of long continuance. In the sterner mea- sures which were afterwards taken to protect the reformed religion, he bore an equally distinguished part. On the establishment of protestantism in 1560, Erskine of Dun resolved to assume the clerical office, for which he was fitted in a peculiar manner, by his mild and benignant character. He was accordingly appointed by the Estates of the Kingdom, to be one of the five superintendants of the church — an office somewhat akin to that of bishop, though subject to the control of the principal church court Erskine became superintendant of the counties of .\ngiis and fleams, which he had already been the principal means of converting to the new faith. He was installed, in 15G2, by John Knox, and it would appear, that he not only superintended the proceedings of the inferior clergy-, but performed him- self the usual duties of a clersr^Tnan. In ever)- thing that he did, his amiable cha- racter WcLS discernible : far from being inspired with those fierce and uncompro- mising sentiments, which were perhaps necessar\- in some of his brethren for the hard work they had to perform, he was always the counsellor of moderate and concib'atory measures, and thus, even the opponents of the reformed doctrines could not help according him their esteem. When Knox had his celebrated inter- view vrith queen 3Iarj- respectinof her intended marriage wiihDarnley, and brought tears into her eyes by the freedom of his speech, Erskine, who was present, en- deavoured with his characteristic gentleness, to sooth those feelings which the severity of his friend had irritated. Knox stood silent and unrelenting, while the superintendant was engaged in this courteous office. Erskine appears to have thus made a verj- favourable impression upon the mind of the youthful queen. When she deemed it necessary- to show some respect to the prntestant doctrines, in order to facilitate her marriage, she sent for the superintendants of Fife, Glasgow, and Lothian, to whom she said that she was not yet persuaded of the truth of their religion, but she was willing to hear conference upon the subject, and would gladly listen to some of their sermons. Above all others, she said she would gladly hear the superintendant of Angus, " for he was a mild and sweet-natured man, with true honesty and uprightness.'' For many jears after this period, the superintendant discharged his various duties in an irreproachable manner, being elected no fewer than five times to be moderator of the general assembly. Some encroachments, made on the liberties of the church in 1571, drew from him two letters addressed to his chief, tho regent 3Iarr, whidi, accordinj to Dr 3I'Crie," are wTitlen in a clear, spirited, and forcible style, contain an accurate statement of the essential distinction be- tween civil and ecclesiastical jurisdiction, and should be read by all who wish to know the early sentiments of the church of Scotland on this subject.'' Some years afterwards, he was engaged with some other distincruished ornaments of the church, in compiling what is called the Second Book of Discipline. At length, after a long and useful life, he died, March 12, 1501, leaving behind him a character which has been thus depicted by archbishop Spottiswoode : " He was a man famous for the services performed to his prince and country, and worthy to 250 LORD JOHN ERSKIXE. be remembered lor his travails in the church, uhich, out of the zeal he had for the truth, he undertook, preaching and advancing it by all means. A barou he was of good rank, wise, learned, liberal, of singular courage ; who, for diverse re- semblances, may well he said to have been another Ambrose." ERSKLNE, John, eisfhteenih loi-d Erskine, and eleventh earl of 3Iarr, was the son of Cliarles, tenth earl of 31arr, and lady 3Iary 3Iaule, daughter of the earl of Panmure. He was bom at Alloa, in the month of February, 1675. Having lost his father ere he liad reached his fourteentli year, and his estates being greatly eml)arni&sed, he devoted himself to civil affairs ; and as soon as he came of ao-e, entered upon public life under the patronage of the duke of Queens- berry, whose interest and whose measures he seems to have uniformly supported till his grace's death, which happened in 171 1. In 170-2, queen .\iine, then just raised to the throne, appointed the earl of 3Iarr one of her privy councillors for Scotland, and ffave him the command of a regiment of foot, and a riband of the most noble order of St Andrews. Marr luid been carefully educated in revolution principles, and from his first entrance upon public life, had been understood to be zealously affected to the new order of things; but in 1704, his patron Queensberry being dismissed from office, he headed the friends of that nobleman in opposition to the marquis of Tweeddale and the Squadron, who had succeeded to the administration of Scottish affairs, and this opposition he managed with so much dexterity as to gain over to his views ahnost all the tories, '"who now," in the significant language of Lockhart, " believed him to be an honest man, and well inclined to the royal familv." The Squadron, however, unable to carr>- on the affairs of the nation in the face of so much opposition, were compelled to resign : Queensben-y again came into place, and 3Iarr, according to Lockhart, " returned like the dog to his vomit, and promoted all the court of England's measures with the greatest zeal imaginable."' In the business of the union he was certainly very active. He brought forward the draugfit of an act for appointing conuixissioners to carry it into effect, and was not only on all occasions at his post, publicly to support it, but wus supposed to have secretly managed some of the binerest of its ene- mies, particuLirly the duke of Hamilton, so us to render their opposition waver- ing, feeble, and in the end ineff'ective. For his signal services during this ses- sion of parliament, he >\as advanced to be secretai-y of state in room of the mar- quis of .Ajinandale, who ^vas dismissed on suspicion of carrying on a secret cor- respondence with the Squadron. When the commissioners for treating of the union came to be named, which, principally through the inliuence of 3Iarr and Argjle upon the duke of Hamil- ton, was left wholly to the queen, he was named third upon tlie list ; and in all the public conferences with the English commissioners upon the articles to which they had separately agreed on the part of the Scots, Seafield, the cliancellor, and Blarr, the secretary, were alone employed. In the struggle that ensued in car- rying the treaty through the Scottish parliament, 31arr exerted all his oratory and all his intluence in its behalf, which was the more honourable, tliat he had not a farthing of tl»e money that was issued from the English treasury and di- vided among the Scottish nobility and gentry on tliat memorable occasion. From the whole histor)- of 3Iarr's life, however, it would be altogether ridiculous to ascribe his conduct to any thing like enlightened views of policy or even such patriotism as was common in those turbulent times. His motive was un- questionably of the most selfish character, most probably the preserving the good opinion of the queen, through whose favour he hoped to have his ambition gratified with the sole administration of the aff'airs of Scotland. With this riew he attached himself in the ouuet of his career to the duke of Queensberry, LORD JOHN ERSKINE. 251 to whom he adhered so long as he enjoyed tlie confidence of the queen, ^vhich was as long as he lived ; and, with this view, when her majesty had tlirown liei-self into the arms of the tories, he had taken liis measures so ac- curately that he was by them considered of fii'st rate importance, employed upon the most important affairs and intrusted with the secret of their most dan- gerous and unmanageable speculations. In consequence of this address on hia part, though he had been from the first active on the side of the Avhigs, he found himself in a situation to demand the seci-etaryship of Scotland from the tories on the death of Queensben-y ; and though Argyle, whom they were exceed- ingly willing to oblige and to confirm in his lately taken up attachment to their cause, applying for it for his brother Hay at the same time, prevented an immediate compliance with his wishes, they durst not openly refuse him, but, for fear of offending Argyle, declined to make for a time any appointment on tlie subject. It is not a little amusing to contrast the character and conduct of these rivals for power, Marr and Argyle, at this period. Both were ambitious, and both were in a high degree selfish ; but the selfishness of the latter was softened by something like a principle of honour and consistency ; that of the former was unmitigated and unbroken by any higher conflicting principle. Accordingly, knowing it was gratifying to the queen, Marr stood up openly for Sachevei'el, defended his absurdities, and along with the notorious Jacobites, the duke of Hamilton, the earl of Wemyss, and Northeske, voted for his acquit- tal. Argyle condemned his absurdities, but made an atonement by voting for a lenient punishment. Argyle, to recommend himself to the queen and her peace-pursuing ministry, depreciated the services and undervalued the talents of the duke of Marlborough, hoping that some of the honours and a few of the places which that gi'eat man enjoyed, might be in the issue conferred upon himself. Marr, knowing how much her majesty was set upon obtaining peace, and that nothing was more pleasing to her ears than the assertion of her lineal descent from an ancient race of kings, and the praise of prerogative, procured from the Jacobite clans a loyal address, emlji-acing these topics, and en- larging upon them in a highei* strain than the boldest time-server at court had hitherto presumed to adopt. The peace was not yet made, but the " patriots, the faithful advisers of this great transaction," were largely applauded. The insolence of the press, which her majesty had recommended to the notice of the late parliament, was duly repi'obated, and a hope expressed, that the ensuing one would Avork out a thorough reformation, that they might be no more scandalized, nor the blessed Son of ( Jod blasphemed, nor the sacred race of the Stuarts inhumanly traduced with equal malice and impiety. And they conclud- ed with a hope, that " to complete their happiness and put an end to intestine division after the queen's late demise, the hereditary right and parliamentary sanction would meet in a lineal successor." The commissioners sent up to Marr Avith this address, were introduced to the queen, who commended the waiiuth of their loyalty, and most graciously rewarded them with pensions. After this, no one will Avonder that the influence of Marr became among the Tories evidently paramount. Argyle, though he joined with him in an attempt to have the treaty of union dissolved, shrunk from the contest for superiority ; and, appar- ently in disgust, di-opped back into the ranks of the whjgs. Blarr, having now no competitor for power among his countrymen, succeeded, most unfortunately for himself, in his darling Avish. The secretaryship for Scotland, Avhich had lain in abeyance for tAvo years, he noAv received ; so that he and his brother, lord Grange, Avho Avas lord justice clerk, became the most influential men in ScotLind. He Avas also, along Avith Bolingbroke and Harley, regarded by the Jacobites, especially those of Scotland, as holdin"- the destiny of tlie exiled 252 LORD JOHN ERSKINE. family entirely iii his o^vn power, which no one among them doubted to be fully equal to the wanuost wishes of liis own heart. Nor for a considerable time does it appear that any of tiiese gentlemen doubted of their own power. All the steps towai-ds the unfortunate peace, which they were in so much haste to conclude, seems to have been taken witli the fullest confidence, that it would infallibly lead to Ihe restoration of James, and th.ey seem to have been perfect- ly confounded to find, that after it was made, and the honour and the interests of the nation thrown away, they were just .is near their object as wlien they besfan, few of the external difficulties being removed, while those of an internal or domestic kind were multiplied at least seven fold. It was the increase and the insurmountable nature of these difficulties, not at all foreseen when the at- tempt was first thought on, that produced so much ill will and disunion among the ])arties, disgusted Oxford, terrified the queen herself, and while they dis- tracted the last miserable and melancholy years of her reign, brought her in the end prematurely to the gTave. Their difficulties, indeed, from the begin- ning were prodigiously augmented. Scarcely had the arrangements for bring- ing in the friends of James been begun, than two of the firmest and most powerful of them, the earl of Anglesey and the earl of Jei*sey, were removed by death. The earl of Rochester died soon after, who was the Ahithophel of the party. The duke of Hamilton followed, and the sudden death of the queen her- self completed the ruin of the project. The regency upon whom the supreme authority devolved in the interim between the death of the queen and the arrival of the new king, both those that had been appointed by act of parliament, and those who in virtue of that act had been named by himself, were whigs, and in common with all of their party, zealous for the protestant succession ; of course the late ministers had neither countenance nor protection from them, and it was among the first of his majesty's regal acts to dismiss them to a man from all their offices, places, and powers. The resolution of parliament on its being convened, to prosecute the leading men among them, completed their misei-j-, Oxford was sent to the Tower, where he was confined for years. Bolingbi*oke and Ormond tied to the continent, and, to confirm all that had been previously sui-niised against them, joined themselves to the few malecontents, who, with James, foi-mcd the miserable court of St Germains. Oxford had, at an early stage of the business, discovered that it could scarcely be effected, and during the latter part of his administration, seems to have laboured to shake himself free of it, as well for his own honour and in- terest as to calm the terroi-s of his royal mistress. But he was beset on all hands. The wretched peace wliich he had concluded, and the enmity of the whigs, begirt him in perpetual alarm, against Avhich the friendly aid of the torics was his only resource. In the end, however, the impatience of the tories, and their reckless contempt of consequences, became equally troublesome and dan- gerous, and his great aim seems to have been by breaking their measures to recommend himself to the elector of Hanover, through whose patronage ho probably hoped to be able either to conciliate the whigs or to brave their re- sentment. The subject of this memoir was not by any means so sharp-sighted as Oxford, but he was equally selfish, and far more regardless of the interests of others; and he no sooner saw the scheme of the Jacobites broken by the death of the queen, than he took measures to ingi-atiate himself with the new dynasty. For this purpose he wrote a letter to his n)ajesty George I., Avhen he was on his way tln-ough Holland, to lake possession of his new dominions; soliciting his particular notice, and promising the most dutiful obedience and faithful service in whatever his majesty might be pleased to employ him. In this letter, it is not unworthy of reniaik, that he appeals to the part he acted LORD JOHN ERSKINE. 253 in bringing about the union, when the succession w.ns settled, as a proof of his sincerity and faithfulness to his majesty, as if his majesty had been ignorant of the attempts that liad been made to dissolve that treaty, and of the hearty repentance that 3Iarr himself had professed for the hand he had in bringing it about. Of his willingness to serve the king in the same capacity in \\hich he served the queen, and with the same faithfulness, provided it did not interfere with services that he could turn to a more special account, we see no reason to doubt, and perliaps it had been not tlie worst policy of the king to have taken him at his word, and continued him in his place. Kings, however, are but men, and we do think he must have been something more or something less than man, who, situated as the king then was, could have looked on Marr, as he then presented himself, without a goodly mixture of suspicion and contempt. Wliich of the two predominated in the king's mind, history does not say, but the letter was certainly passed over without notice ; and in conse- quence IMarr durst not present a flaming address which he had procured from the disaftected clans, some one about the court having moreover told him that the king had been apprized of this address, and was highly offended, believing it to have been drawn up at St Germains for the purpose of affronting him. Though his proffers of service were not accepted, and though he was not on terms of much familiarity, he still continued to hang about the court, cai-- rying on, at the same time, a close correspondence with the disaffected, both in Scotland and England, particularly in Scotland, till the beginning of August 1715, when the habeas corpus act being suspended, as also the act against wrongous im- prisonment in Scotland, and warrants made out at the secretary of state's office for the immediate apprehension of all suspected persons, he thought it no long- er safe to appear among his fellows, and Avith general Hamilton, a major Hay, and two servants, after being at court to pay his compliments to the king, took ship in the river, all of them being in disguise, and on the third day after landed at Newcastle, where they hired a vessel which set them ashore at Ely in Fife. Here they were joined by the lord lyon king at arms, Alexander Ers- kine, and other friends, along with whom they proceeded to Kinnoul, aQd on the 20th arrived at his lordship's castle of Braemar, where all the Jacobites in that county were summoned to meet him. Under the feudal system, we may notice here that hunting possessed much of a military character, and was often made the pretext for the supei'ior calling out his vassals, when hunting was but a small part of the object in view ; and we find the kings of Scotland frequently calling out lords, barons, landward men, and freeholdei-s, with each a month's provisions and all their best dogs, when the purpose was to daunt the thieves of the particular district Avhere they were summoned to hunt. Often, during the previous years, had this expedient, joined with that of horse-racing, been resorted to, for collecting together the friends of the exiled family; and it was, on this occasion, again employed by Marr. It was but a few days that he had been at Braemar, when, under this pretence, he was waited on by a vast number of gentlemen of the first quality and interest, among whom were the marquises of Huntly and Tullibardine ; the earls of Nithsdale, Marischal, Traquair, Errol, Southeske, Carnwath, Seaforth, Linlithgow, &c. ^c. ; the viscounts of Kilsyth, Kenmure, Kingston, and Stor- mont ; the lords Hollo, Duffus, Drummond, Strathallan, Ogilvy, and Nairn ; a number of chieftains from the Highlands, Glendaruel, Auldbair, Auchterhouse, Glengarry ; with the two generals, Hamilton and Gordon, and many others of inferior name. To these gentlemen, previously prepared for the purposes of faction, Marr opened at large his whole scheme. He declaimed, with well at- fected sorrow, particularly upon his own misconduct, and the guilty hand lie 254 LORD JOHN ERSKINE, had in effecting the " cursed union," which he was now resolved to spend his best blood to free them from — on the miseries attendant on a foreign succession ; ^vhicii, grievous as tiu'y already felt thoiu to be, might be expected to increase till their liberties, civil and religious, were totally anniiiiLited ; but from which they had now the means of being delivered, by simply restoring James \ III. who had already promised them Ills presence for tiiat end, wilh abundance of arms, anuuunition, officers, and engineers, so soon as they should have resolved upon the proper place to land them. 31oney, the grand desideratum in all such undertakings, he assured them he had received, and would regularly receive in abundance, so that no gentleman would find any difficulty in sub- sisting his men, nor should the country be at all burdened on their account. Finally, he informed them that he had received a commission from the said king James, to act as his lieutenant-general, in consequence of which he intend- ed immediately to set up the royal standard, and sunnnon to attend it the whole fencible men in the kingdom. Though these statements were false, and foolish in the extreme, from the rank of the speaker, the confidence with which they were uttered, and especially from the previously formed habits and feelings of the hear- ers, they made a powerful impression ; each hasted to bring forward his followers, and, on the Gth day of September, 1715, 31arr set up the standard of James and proclaimed him king of Great Britain, Finance, and Ireland, &:c., at his castle of Braemar, The same proclamation was repeated three days after at the village of Kirk-Micbael, and the people summoned generally to attend him, — for, as yet, they weie a very small handful. From Kirk-3Iichael he pro- ceeded to Moulin, in Perthshire, and thence, by Logie Rait to Dunkeld, where he found his army swelled to upwards of two thousand men. At the two former of these places, James was proclaimed with proper solemnity ; at the latter, he had been proclaimed by the marquis of Tullibardine, previous to Marr's arrival. At Perth, he was proclaimed by colonel Balfour and colonel John Hay, who, with two hundred and fifty horse, assisted by two hundred men, introduced iuto the town, by the duke of Athol, under the pretence of defending it, secured it for the earl of IMarr, though the earl of Kothes, with five hundred well-appointed troops, was in the immediate vicinity, intending to take possession of it for the government. James was at the same time proclaimed at Aberdeen, by the earl INIarischal ; at Castle Goxdon, by the earl of Huntly ; at Brechin, by the earl of Panmure ; at Montrose, by the earl of Southeske ; at Dundee, by Graham of Duntroon, now, by the pretender, created viscount Dundee ; and at Inverness, by 3Iackintosh of Borlum, who, with five hundred men, had taken possession of that important place for James ; and, after giving it in charge to Mackenzie of Coul, proceeded to join the army under Marr. While tlie whole north of Scotland, with the exception of Sutherland and Caithness, was thus, witliout aiivthing like opposition, cordiallj' declaring for the Pretender, a scheme was laid for surprising and taking possession of the caslle of Edinburgh, wliich would at once have given the rebels the command of Scotland almost without stroke of sword. The prime agent in this affair w.is the lord Druminond, who, had he succeeded, was to have the governorship of the caslle, and his companions, ninety gentlemen of his own selection, were to be rewarded with one hundred guineas each, and a commission in the rebel army. To accomplish their purpose, they corrupted a sergeant in the castle, of the name of Ainsley, with the promise of a lieutenancy ; a corporal, with the promise of an ensigncy, and t\vo soldiers, the one with eight, and the other with four guineas. They then provided a scaling ladder, made of ropes, and so constructed that two or three persons could ascend it abreast, 'lliis the traitor within drew up with pulleys, fastening it at the top, and a number of the i-ebel LORD JOHN ERSKINE. 255 ])arty were in the act of ascending when an officer, who had been apprized of tlie plot, walking his rounds, observed the ladder, cut the ropes by wliicli it was fastened above, and all tliat were upon it were precipitated to the bottom. The sentinel fired at the same time, and the party fled witli the utmost precipitation, leaving their ladder, a number of firelocks, a Mr M'Lean, who had been an officer at Killiecranky, Mr Lesley and Mr Ramsay, writers in Edinburgh, and a Mr Boswell, who had been a page to the duchess of Gordon, severely bruised by their fall from the ladder, at the foot of the rock. Ainsley, who had en- gaged to betray the fortress, was hanged, his accomplices severely punished, and tlie governor lieutenant, David Stewart, displaced for negligence. The failure of this undertaking was no doubt a serious disappointment to the rebels, but in all other respects their affiiirs were prosperous beyond any thing that could have been anticipated. Their numbers were rapidly augmenting, and their hopes were strongly excited by the arrival from St Germains, whither he had gone early in the spring, of Mr James 3Iurray, second son to the viscount Stormont, who brought along witli !iim patents from James, creating himself secretary of state for Scotland, and the earl of Marr a duke, by the title of duke of Man-, marquis of Stirling, and earl of Alloa. He brought also assur- ances of the presence of James himself, with a powerful army and abundant sup- plies, furnished him by the court of Fi-ance. Large supplies had certainly been promised on the occasion, and they were, to a considerable extent, provided; but the death of Louis, on the 1st of September, was followed by a total change of measures, under the duke of Orleans, who acted as regent for Louis XV., then only five years of age ; and though a considerable expedition had, by the zeal of individuals, been prepared at St Maloes, thi-ough the vigilance of admii-al Byng at sea, and the influence of the earl of Stair at Versailles, ex« cept one or two, which sailed clandestinely, not a ship put to sea, and not one of them ever reached the Scottish shore. The news of the death of Louis was BO discouraging to their hopes that a number of the chiefs insisted upon going home and waiting for a more favourable opportunity. They were, however, overruled, but a messenger was despatched to James, to solicit his presence to the enterprize with all possible expedition. Every exertion was in the mean time made by the party to increase the number of their followers, and judging from what was done by the earl of Marr, these exertions were of no very gentle character. Writing on the 9th of September, to his bailie of Kildrummy, who had sent up to him the night before, one hundx'ed men, when his lordship " expected four times the number," — " I have sent," he says, " enclosed, an order for the lordship of Kil- drummy, which you are immediately to intimate to all my vassals. If they give ready obedience it will make some amends, and if not, ye may tell them from me, that it will not be in my power to save them, were I willing, from being treated as enemies, by those who are ready soon to join me ; and they may de- pend upon it, that I will be the first to px'opose and order their being so. Particularly let my own tenants of Kildi'ummy know this ; if they come not forth with their best arms, that I will send a party immediately to burn what they shall miss taking from them, and they may believe this not only a threat ; but, by all that's sacred, I'll put it into execution, let my loss be what it will, that it may be an example to others.'' This Avas logic, that, with the poor tenants of Kildrummy, was no doubt perfectly convincing ; but it was necessary to use more soothing arguments, with others not so completely in his power ; and for this purpose he had a manifesto prepared by some of his clerical follow- ers, and printed at Edinburgh by his majesty's printer, Robert Freebairn, set- ting fortii the absolutely indefeasible rights of the Stuarts ; the total annihilation 256 LORD JOHN ERSKINE. of the ancient Scottish constitution ; the incalculable mischiefs that had attended, and the inevitable ruin that must necessarily follow the " unhappy union, brouglit about by the mistaken notions of some, and the ruinous and selfish de- signs of others ;" all of which was to be remedied by one single act of justice, the restoring of the Stuarts, through uhom religion was to be revived, and plenty, tranquillity, and peace, interminably establishetL That James was a papist, this precious document did not deny ; but, tlien tliere was no " reason to be dis- trustful of the goodness of God, the truth and purity of our holy religion, or the known excellency of his majesty's judgment," in consequence of which " in due time, good example and convei-salion witii our learned divines, could not fail to remove those prejudices which this clear-headed junto knew, that, even being educated in a popish country liad not riveted in his royal discerning mind ; and with etlior in such a state of inaction, lie re- solved on attacking Stirling, for which purpose he broke up from Perth on tiie lOlh, was met at Uumblane on the saitie fatal 13th of November by Ar- gyle, and, through the utter imbecility of his ciiaracter, though his army was four- fold that of his adversary, and in part successful, was driven back to his for- mer head-quarters, under circumstances as fatal as though he had met a total de- feat. Argyle, however, was in no case to follow him, and he began to fortify the city, and to supply the wants of his immerous followers in the best manner he could. The fatal afl'air at Preston, which was soon kno\vn among them, and the loss of Inverness, which nearly at the same time was retaken for the gov- ernment by the earl of Sutherland, threw a damp over his men, which all his address could not overcome. By the help of 3Ir Freebairn, his majesty's print- er, who had now taken up his i-esidence in Perth, he issued news of the most cheering des(;ription ; he collected meal throughout all the adjacent country with the utmost industry ; and as the frost was excessive, he levied upon the country people, for the use of his men, large contributions of blankets, and he compelled the gentlemen and farmers around him to supply them with coal, which, as the river was frozen, was done at an immense expense ; yet, in spite of all he could do, and in spite of partial reinforcements, his army was daily diminishing, and it was resolved among the chiefs to furl for a time the standard of rebellion, and abandoning Perth, to reserve themselves, in the best manner they could, for a more favourable opportunity, when on the 22d of December, 1715, their spirits were for a few days revived, by the arrival of James himself. Instead, how- ever, of those abundant supplies which he had promised to bring along with him, he escaped from France with difficulty in disguise, and was landed at Peterhead Avith only six attendants. Here he and his companions slept the first night, disguised as sea officers. The second night he lay at Newburgh, a seat of the earl Marischal's. Next day he passed thi-ough Aberdeen, still incog- nito, Avith two baggage horses, and the third night met at Fetteresso Mith iMarr, the earl IMarischal, and about thirty gentlemen from Perth. Here James as- sumed the forms of royalty, gave the gentlemen his hand to kiss, received loyal addresses from the clergy and citizens of Aberdeen, formed a court, appointing all the officers of state and household, created peers, made knights, appointed bishops, &rc A slight indisposition confined him to Fetteresso for some days, but having recovered, he advanced, January the 2nd, 1716, to Brechin, where he remained till the 4th ; and proceeding by Kinnaird and Glammis, he made his public entry into Dundee on Friday the Gth, accompanied by about three hundred horsemen. On Saturday he dined at Castle Lyon, and slept in the house of Sir David Threipland ; and on Sabbath the Sth, took possession of the royal palace of Scoon. Here he formed a council, and began to exercise the functions of government. He had been already proclaimed at Fetteresso, and had issued another declaration, dated at Cromercy in Lorrain ; noAv all at once he issued six proclamations, — one ordering a thanksgiving for his snfe ar- rival — a second, ordering public prayers to be put up for him in all the ciiurches — a third, giving currency to foreign coins — a fourth, summoning a convention of estates — a fifth, ordering all fencible men to repair to his stan- dard — and a sixth, fixing his coronation for the 23d of the current month. At the same time he obstinately refused to attend any protestant place of wor- ship, and he would allow no protestant to say grace at his table. His own con- fessor, father Innes, constantly repeated the rater Noster and Ave Maria for him, and he had an invincible repugnancy to the usual foi-m of the coronation oath, obliging the sovereign to maintain the established religion, Tiiis avowed bigotry occasioned wide divisions among his few councillors, and greatly cooled 2G0 LORD JOHN ERSKINE. tlie artection of his female friemls, many of whom had incited tlieir husbands to take arms on his beJiaif, under an itlea that he had turned proteslant. It wouWl also have created some dilHculty on tiie approaching- coronation, had not cir- cumsuinces before the day arrived rendered iiis funeral a more lii^ely occurrence. On the liith, he assembled a <,rrand council of ail the insurgent chiefs, where he .iiccady to be struck." lie tlicn set about coiTupting Argyle, but, fearing in him a rival for emolument and power, he shortly after repented of the attempt, and was at some pains to prevent it taking effect. In the Spanish affliir, which was planned by cardinal Alberoni, and closed at Glenshiel in the month of June, 1719. he 202 LORD JOHN ERSKINE. does not seem to have been so particularly concerned, wliicli may liave set hira on tliosti oilier nieiliods of advancing liis own interest, to which he shortly after- wards resorted. 15y tliis time, indeed, his influence with the Chevalier, who was almost compelled by his situation, to manifest a disposition to favouritism, had excited llie envy of every Jacobite, for every Jacobite reckoned his own merit so great as to deserve the special and particular attention of his divinely conse- crated nuister; yet every one wondered at the unreasonableness of another for aiming at the same things as himself; hence Lockhart of Carnwath, one of the most zealous of them at that day, speaking of the troubles and crosses the Chevalier met with, describes them as " the natural consequences of having to deal with a set of men whom no rules of honom- or ties of society can bind." Lockhart had planned a new scheme of maiuiging the Chevalier's atTaii-s in Scotland, by a number of pei-sons, whom he called trustees, and of which he himself was named one. This gave offence to not a few of the Chevalier's friends, and to none more than the earl of 3Iarr, whose ambition from the be- ginning of his career was to be sole director of the al1hii-s of Scotbnd. He began also about this time to be supplanted in the aJ^ections of his master by James Murray, afterwards created by the Chevalier earl of Dunbar and made tutor to the young prince Chai'les ; in consequence of which he left the Chevalier at Home, and took up his residence at Paris, where he appears to liave been as restless and as mischievously employed as ever; sometimes appear- ing to be diligent for the one side and sometimes for the other. He ob- tained money from the earl of Stair, under the pretence of friendship, and liberty from the British government to reside for his health in France, pro- tided he kept himself free of any plots against the government of Britain ; likewise, on a renewal of the same promise, an ofler of the family estate to be restored to his son, and in the interim, till an act of parliament could be pro- cured to that effect, he himself was to receive a yearly pension of two thousand pounds sterling, over and above one thousand five hundred pounds sterling of jointure paid to his wile and daughter. The Chevalier now began to withdraw his confidence from him, and a general suspicion of his fidelity seems to have been entertained among one party of his Jacobite associates, who charged him with betraying, not only the interests of individuals, but the cause in general, by a system of deep laid and deliberate villany. By Atterbury he was abhorred and cliarged as the pei-son who discovered his correspondence with the Chevalier to the British goverinnent, >vhich procured his banishment. A laboured scheme for the restoration of James, presented by Marr without his authority, to the regent of France, the duke of Orleans, a little before his death, was also by the same j)ersonage charged as a deep laid design to render him odious to the Enclish peo- ple, and so to cut oil' all liopes of his ever being restored. He was also said to have embezzled two tiiousand pounds sterling, w hich he had collected for general Dillon, for the purpose of purchasing annsat the time of Atterbury 's conspiracy. He was by the same party charged >vith being the author of that schism in the king's family, which exposed him to the pity or to the contempt of all Furope, by stirring up the queen against colonel Hay and his lady, a daughter of the earl of Stormont, and sister to James .^lurray, created about this time earl of Dun- bar. This colonel Hay was brother to the earl of Kinnoul, and on 3Iarr's loss of favour was by James promoted to his place in the cabinet, and created earl of Inverness, whi<;h was supposed sutKcient to excite his utmost nuilice. Possess- ing the ear of .Ali-s Siieldon, mistress to general Dillon, who \vas wholly at his devotion, and who had acquired an entire ascendancy over tlic^uccn, James's wife, he so operated upon her feelings iliat when she found her autliority insufficient to enforce the disiuLssal of Inverness and his lady, aud to retain Mrs Sheldon, LORD JOHN ERSKINE. 2G3 whom James ivoiild no longer endure, she drove oft* in one of the king's cociches, and took roliige in the convent of St Cecniia on the 15th of November, 1725. Inverness in his account of this aft'a/ir says, " it is a matter the king is very easy about, since he sees plainly that the queen has been drawn into this step, and made subservient to a project of Marr's whi(^l) has been laid these several years." Whatever opinion the king might have of the causes whicli had brought about this strange resolution of the queen, it evidently, and indeed it could not be otherwise, gave him no little trouble. " The queen is still in tl;e convent," he writes to one of his correspondents, " and her advisers continue still under a false pretence of religion, to procure my uneasiness from the pope to such a degree, that I wish myself out of his country, and I won't fail to do my endeavours to leave it, which I am pei'suaded will tend to the advantage of my aft'drs. ' This, however, is evidently the ebullition of a weak mind, attempt- ing to hide from itself its o\\n weakness, and there can be no doubt, as one of his best frientls remarked at the time, that this extraordinary proceeding gave a terrible shock to his afiairs, lowered his character in the judgment both of friends and foes, and highly displeased the continental princes, many of whom were nearly related to the queen. At the same time, whether Man-, as was given out by one side of the Jacobite interest, was really the author of all this miscliief, is a question that we think admits of Jbeingvery fairly disputed. That Inverness and his lady had attained to the absolute sway of James's afl'ec- tions, does not appear to admit of a doubt. How they attained to this envied superiority is not so easily to be accounted for. "His lordship," according to Lockhart of Carnwath, " was a cunning, false, avaricious creature, of very ordi- nary parts, cultivated by no sort of literature, altogether void of experience in business, and his insolence prevailing often over his little stock of prudence, he did and said many unadvised ridiculous things, that with any other master would soon have stript him of that credit which, without any merit, at the expense ot the king's character and the peace of his family, he maintained, in opposition to the remonstrances of several potentates, and his majesty's best friends at home and abroad. His lady was a mere coquette, tolerably handsome, but withal prodigiously vain and arrogant" — and he adds, what appears to be the true solution ot the mystery, though he affects at the same time to make light of it, — " It was connnonly reported and believed, that she was the king's mistress, and that the queen's jealousy was the cause of the rupture." That it was so we have the testimony of the queen herself : — " Air Hay and his Lady are the cause," she says, writing to her sister, "that I am retired into a convent. I re- ceived your letter in their behalf, and returned you an answer only to do you a pleasure, and to oblige the king, but it all has been to no purpose, for instead of making them my friends, all the civilities I have shown them have only served to render them more insolent. Their unworthy treatment of me has in short reduced me to such an extremity, and I am in such a cruel situation, that I had rather suffer death than live in the king's palace with persons that have no religion, honour, nor conscience, and who, not content ^vith having been the authors of such a fatal separation betwixt the king and me, are continually teasing him every day to part with all liis best friends and most faithful subjects. This at length determined me to retire into a convent, there to spend the rest of my days in lamenting my misfortunes, after having been fretted for six years together by the most mortifying indignities and insults that can be imagined." That Marr, beholding such conduct on the part of these worthless favourites, and the uneasiness of the queen under it, should have laboured for the pi-eventing of such a fatal catastrophe, to have them removed, is rather a bright spot upon a character which, it niust be o\»ned, had few redeeming qualities. 264 JOHN ERSKINE. With reji^artl lo the money he received from Stair, aiul the pensions in lieu of his estate, «e cnnnot think there will be two opinions. The ikitish minis- try were the most consimunate fools if they bestowed such a boon upon sucli a man without something profitable in return ; and James was just such another fool, if he ever after put any confidence in him. The money transaction witli Stair has never been, and periiaps from the nature of the service, could not be cleared up. The discovery of the plot in 172-2, and the consequent banishment of Atterbury, was, we apprehend, the return for his pensions ; and it was not un- worthy of them, especially as, by bringinjr toi^ether three such spirits as himself, Inverness, and Atterbury, he put it out of the power of the chevalier to bring any one scheme to bear during their lives. His character in conseijuence seems to have utterly sunk, and in the latter days of liis life he appears to have been little regarded by any party. In 172'J he went for liis health to reside at Aix-la-Chapelle, where he died in the month of JMay, 1732. His lordship was twice married ; first, to lady Margaret Hay, daughter to the earl of Kinnoul, by whom he had two sons ; John, who died in infancy, and Thomas, lord Erskine. He man-ied secondly, lady Frances Pierrepont, daughter of Evelyn, duke of Kingston, by whom he had one daughter, lady Frances Erskine, who married her cousin James Ei-skine, son of lord Grange, through whom the line of the family is kept up, and to whose posterity the honours of the house of IMaii- have been of late years restored. EliSKINE, JoHx, of Carnock, afterwards of Cardross, professor of Scots law in the university of Edinburgh, wns born in the year 1(595. His father was the honourable colonel John Erskine of Carnock, the third son of lord Car- dross, whose family now hies. 4th, Meditiitions and Lettei-s of a Pious Youlli, lately deceased, (James Hall, Esq., son of the late Sir John Hall, Hart, of Dunglass), to which are prehxed, Reflections on his death and character, by a friend in the countrj-. Edinburgh, 1746. 5th, An account of the Debate in the Sjnod of Glasgow and Ayr, October 6th, 1748 ; re- Kl)ectii]g the employment of Mr Whitefield to preach in the pulpits of the Synod. Edinburgh, 1748. AiionjMious. Gth, An hunil)le attempt to promote frequent Communicating. Gkisgow, 1740. Republished in " Theological Dissertiitions." 7th, The Qualifiaitions necessary for Teachers of Christianity ; a Sermon before the Sjnod of G asgow and Ayr, 2d October, 1750. Glasgow, 1750. Republished in Discourees, vol. II. 8tli, Tiie influence of Religion on National Happiness; a sermon preached at tlie anniver- sjiry im-etmg ot the Society fuj- Propagating Christian Knowledge, in the High Church of Edinburgh, January, 1756. 9ih, Ministers of the Gospel cautioned against giving offence; a sermon before the Synod of Lotlnan and 'I'weeddale, November 3il, 1763; to which is added, A Charge at the Ordina- tion ot die late Mr Robertson, minister of Ratho. Edinburgh, 1764. Republished in Dis- courses, vol. I. =1 10th, Mr Wesley's Principles detected ; or, a defence of the Preface to the Edinburgh edition ot " Aspasio Vindi(5ited," written by Dr Eiskin.; in iuiswer to Mr Kershaw's Appeal —to which IS prehxed the Preface itself Edinburgh, 1765. lllli. Theological Dissertiitions, (1) On the Nature of the Sinai covenant, (2) On the Character and Pnvileges of the Apostolic churches, (3) On the Nature of Saving Faith (4> See 1st, (5) See 6lh. London, 1765. 12th, Shall I go to War with my American Brethren? A discourse on Judges xx. 28, ndtlressec to all concernc'd m determining that important question. London, 1769. Anoiiy- inous. Reprinted m Edinburgh with a Pretiice and Appendix, and Uie auUior's name, 1776. '^'^ ' • ,-!?'^\'^'i"'' ^'i'l'^'tjo" of t'lc pouv children recommended; a sermon before the Managers of the Orphan Hus])ual, 1774. ° lllh, Relleciions on the Rise, and Progress, and probable Consequences of the present con- 'cntionswiUi the Colonies: by a Freeholder. Edinburgh, 1776. REV. DR. JOHN ERSKINE. 2G9 About tlie time when Dr Erskine obtained his license, a remarkable concern for religion had been exhibited in the British colonies of North America. In order to obtain the earliest and most authentic religious intelligence from those provinces, he commenced a correspondence with those chiefly concerned in 15lh, The Equity and Wisdom of the Administration, on mctvures tliat have unhappily occasioned the Americ;in Revolt — tried by the Sacred Oracles. Edinburgh, 1776. 16th, Considerations on the Spirit of Popery, and tlie intended J3ill for Uie relief of the Papists in Scotland. Edinburgh, 1778. I7th, A Narrative of the Debate in the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland, May 25lh, 1779. Occasioned by the apprehensions of an intended repeal of the penal statutes against Papists. Witli a dedication to Dr George Campbell, principal of the Marischal Col- lege, Aberdeen. Edinburgh, 1780. 18th, Prayer for those in civil and military offices, recommended from a view of the influ- ence of Providence on their character, conduct, and success; a sermon preaclied before the election of the Magistrates of Edinburgh, October 5th, 1779, and published at the request of the Magistrates and Town council. 19th, Sketches and Hints of Church History and Theological Controversy, chiefly translated and abridged from modern foreign writers, vol. 1. Edinburgh, 1700. 20th, Letters, chiefly written for comforting those bereaved of Children and Friends. Col- lected from books and manuscripts. Edinburgh, 1790. 2d edition with additions. Edinburffh, 1800. 21st, The fatal Consequences and the General Sources of Anarchy, a discourse on Isaiah, xxiv. 1,5; the substance of which was preached before the Magistrates of Edinburgh, Sep- tember, 1792; published at their request, and tliat of the members of the Old Grey Friars Kirk Session. Edinburgh, 1793. 22d, A Supplement to Two Volumes, published in 1754, of Historical Collections, chiefly containing late remarkable instances of Faith working by Love; published from the Manu- script of the late Dr Jolm Gillies, one of the ministers of Glasgow. With an accomit of the Pious Compiler, and other additions. Edinburgh, 1796. 23d, Sketches and Hints of (Jhurch History and Theological Controversy, chiefly translated and abridged from modem foreign writers, vol. II. Edinburgh, 1797. 24th, Discourses preached on several occasions, vol. I. 2d edition, 1798. Volume II. posthumous, prepared for the press and published by Sir H. Moncriefi" Weliwood, 1804. 25th, Dr Ei-skine's reply to a printed Letter, directed to him by A. C. ; in which the gross misrepresentations in S£iid letter, of his Sketches of Church History, in promoting the de- signs of the infamous sect of the Illuminati, are considered. Edinburgh, 1798. Those Works which were edited by Dr Erskine, or for whicli he wrote pre&ces are, 1st, Aspasio Vindicated, or the Scripture doctrine of imputed righteousness defended against the animadversions, Sic. of Mr Wesley ; with a preface of ten pages by Dr Erskine- Edinburgh, 1705. 2d, An Account of the Life of the late Rev. Mr David Brainerd, &c. by Jonathan Edwards. Edinburgh, 1765. 3d, An Essay on the continuance of immediate Revelations of Facts and Future Events, in the Christian chuich, by the Rev. Thomas Gillespie, minister of the Gospel at Dunferm- line; together with a Letter by the late Mr Cuthbert, minister of Culross, on the danger of considering the influence of the Spirit as a rule of Duty; witli a Preface by Dr Erskine. Edinburgh, 1774. 4th, A Treatise on Temptation, by the Rev. Thomas Gillespie. Prefaced by Dr Er- skine, 1771. 5th, A History of the work of Redemption, by the late Jonathan Edwards, 8vo. Edin- burgh, 1774. 6th, Sermons on various important subjects, by Jonathan Edwards, 12mo. Edinburgh, 1785. 7th, Dying Exercises of Mre Deborah Prince, and Devout Meditations of Mrs Sarah Gill, daughters of the late Rev. Thomas Prince, minister of South church Boston, New England. 1785. 8lh, Six Sermons, by the late Rev. Thomas Prince, A. M., one of the minister in die South Church, Boston. Published from his manuscript, with a Preface by Dr Erskine, containing a very interesting account of the Author, of liis Son who pre-deceased liim, and of tliree of his daughtei-s. 9tli, Practical Sermons, by the Rev. Thomas Prince, 8vo, 1788. 10th, Twenty Sermons, by the Rev. Thomas Prince, on various subjects. Edinburgh, 1789. 11th, A Reply to the Religious Scruples iigainst Innoculatiiig the Small-pox, in a letter to a friend, by the late Rev. William Cooper of Boston, New England. Edinburgh, 1791. 12th, The safety of appearing at the Day of Judgment in the Righteousness of Christ, opened and applitd, by ^vuIoiikju SIdddart, pastor to the church of Northampton, in New England, tlie groiidlallier and predecessor of ftlr Jonatlian Edwards. Edinburgh, 1792. 270 REV. DR. JOHN ERSKINB. briiisfiii^ about this diango ; nor was tliis (;oiTcspondenr,e conlinetl to America. He also oponed a conimuiiication with several divines of the most distinffuishevho would have made them their dupes, were disclosed and illustrated by the practical (jortunentary which the state of France atVorded. The consideration that he had assisted to save this country from the horrors to which the French nation had been subjected, was one of the many gratifying reflections which solaced Dr Erskine on looking back, iu his old age, on his laborious and well spent life. Dr JMskine's zeal in the cause of religion led him to take a large share in the business of the society for the propagation of christian knowledge ; and even when, through the infirmities of bad health and old age, he was unable to Fourth edlUon, with a Preface, containing some account of him, and an ackiiowletigment of the unscriptuialncss of some of his sentiments. 13tli, Miscellinieous 01)serviitions on Important Theologiail Subjects, by the late Jonathan Edwards. Edinburgh, 179.3. I'Jth, Sermons and Tracts, separately published at Boston, Pliiladelphia, and now first collected into one vohimc, by Joiiatlum Dickenson, A. 1\I., late President of the College of New Jersey. Edinburgh, 17ft3. 15lh, A Sermon preachevs, in Northumberland, on the eighteenth day of Mai-ch, 1G85. Of his childhood, little has been recorded, but that he Avas thoughtful and pious, and was most probably by his parents devoted to the work of the ministry from his earliest years. Of his earlier studies, we know nothing. Like his brother Ebenezer, he probably learned his letters under the immediate eye of his father, and like his brother, he went through a regular course of study in the University of Edinburgh. During the latter years of his studentship, he resided as tutor and chaplain in the house of Colonel Erskine, near Gulross, where he was gratified with the evangelical preaching, and very often the edifying conversation of the Rev. Mr Cuthbert, then minister of Gulross. He had here also frequent opportunities of visiting his brother Ebenezer, but, though younger in years and less liberally endowed with the gifts of nature, he was a more advanced scholar in the school of Christ, and his brother, if Ave may believe his own report, was more benefited by him than he was by his brother. Residing within its bounds, he was, by the presbytery of Dunfermline, licensed as a preacher,, on the eighth day of June, 1709. He continued to be a probationer nearly two years, a somewhat lengthened period in the then desolate slate of the dmrch, when the field, at least, was large, whatever might be the harvest, and the labourers literally few. At lengih, however, he received a unanimous call from the parish of Dunferndine, to serve as colleague and successor to the Rev. Mr Buchanan, which he accepted, and to Avhich he Avas ordained in the month of August, 1711, his friend Mr Cuthbei-t of Gulross, presiding on the occasion. In connnon Avith all the churches of the reformation, the church of Scotland Avas from her earliest daAvn of returning light, distinguished for her attachment to the doctrines of gi-ace. There, as clseAvhere, it Avas the doctrine of gi-ace in giving thorough righteousness unto eternal life by Jesus Christ our Lord, preached in its purity, freedom, and fulness, by Hamilton,Wishart, and Knox, Avhich shook from ills firm base the dagon of idolatry, and levelled the iron towers of papal super- stition with the dust, and it Avas in the faith of the same doctrines that the illus- trious list of martyrs and confessors under the tAvo Charleses, and the Jameses sixth and seventh, endured such a great fight of afiliction and resisted unto blood, striving against sin. At the happy deliverance from the iron yoke of persecu- tion through the instrumentality of William, prince of Orange, in the year Ic^tis, the ecclesiastical constitution of the country Avas happily restored Avitli the Avhoh' 274 T^AIPII EUSKINE. system of doctrine entire. When her scattered ministry bei^an to be asseniMed, however, it u:is found tlial the sword of persecution, or the scythe of time, liad rut otVtlie nili(;ancy of (liaracter, some by compliances, real or affected, with the system of pndacy, and not a few of them had actually otliciatcd as the bishops' underlin<;s, but for the sake of the benefice, were induced to transfer their re- spect and obedience from the bishop to the presbytery, and to sign the Confession of Kaith as a proof of their sincerity. This was the more unfortunate that there was among them no conunanding spirit, uho, imbued with the love of truth, and living under the powers of the world to come, might liave breathed through the body an amalgamating influence, and have insensibly assimilated the whole into its own lUteness. So l;u- from this, their leading men, under the dii-ection of the coiutly Carstairs, were chiefly busied in breaking down to the level of plain worhlly policy any thing that bore the shape of really disinterested feeling, and regulating the pulse of piety by the newly graduated scale of the court thermo- meter. In consequence of this state of matters, there was less attention paid, both to doctrine and discipline than might have been expected, and even with the better and more serious part of the clergy, considei-able confusion of ideas on the great subject of the gospel, with no inconsiderable portion oflegalism, were prevalent. A spirit of intpiiry was, however, at this time awakened, and the diffusion of Trail's works, \vitii the works of some of the more eminent of the English nonconformists, had a powerful effect in correcting and enlarging the views of not a few of the Scottish clergy, among whom, was the subject of this memoir, who, from a very early period of life, seems to have felt strongly, and apprehended clearly, the great sclieme of the gospel. Mr Ralph Erskine liad been a most diligent student, and had made very considerable progress in the dilierent branches of science, which were commonly studied at that time, but among his people he determined to know nothing, save Jesus Christ, and liim crucified, llaving been exercised to godliness from his earliest years, he, by the grace of (jod, manifested himself to be a scribe instructed unto the kingdom of heaven, bringing forth out of his treasures things new and old. He continu- ed to be a hard student even to his old age, generally writing out his sermons in full, and for the most jtart in the delivery, keeping pretty close to what he had written. For the pulpit, he possessed excellent talents, having a pleasant voice and an agreeable winning manner. He peculiarly excelled in the full and free offers of Christ which he made to his hearers, and in the persuasive and winning manner in which he urged their acceptance of the oiler so graciously made to them on the authority of the divine word. Jle possessed also, from hia own varied and extensive experience, a great knowledge of the human heart, and had a singular gift (tf speaking to the varied circumstances of his liearors. \>hich rendered him more than ordinarily popular. On sacramental occasions he w;is always waited upon by large audiences, who listened to his disiiourses with more than ordinary earnestness. During his incumbency, Dunfennline, at the time of dispensing the sacrament, was crowded by strangers from all parts of the kingdom, many of whom, to the day of their death, spoke with transport of the enlargement of lieart they had there experienced. 'I'o all the other duties oi the ministry he was ecjually attentive as to those of the pulpit. His diligence in exhorting from house to house was most unwearied, his diets of public cate- chising, regidar ; and he was never wanting at the side of the sick bed when his presence was desired. Ardently attached to divine truth, he was on all oc- cess ; and in the case of the Marrow, had his own share of the toil, trouble, and opprobrimu cast upon the few niinistei'S who at that time had tlio. hardihood to make an open appearance for the genuine faith of the (iospel. Before the com- mencement of the secession, he was engaged, along with his copre^hyters, of ihe presbytery of Dunfei'mline, in a dispute with the general assembly, in belialf of tlie liberties of the presbyterian church of Scotland, in whicli, however, tiiey ihiled. This was in the case of iMr Starlv, wlio had been most shamefully intruded upon the burgh and parish of Kinross, and whom, in consequence, the i>resbytery of D(nilbrniline refused to admit as one of tlieir members. The case was brought before the assembly, 173:2, and summarily decided by ordering the presbytery to assemble iuuuediately, and enrol iMr Stark as one of their members, give him the right hand of fellowship, and Ijy all means in their power, to strengthen liis hands, and hold him up against the opposition that was raised against him by the parish, under the pain of being visited with the church's highest displeasure. Against this decision, protests wei-e ottered by IMr Ralph Erskine and others, but they were peremptorily refused. Another act of the same assendjly became the ostensible cause of the secession. In this controversy, however, Mr Ivalph Erskine hnd no share, farther tlian that he adhered to tlie protests that were ort'ered in behalf of the four brethren who carried it on, took their part on all occasions, attended many of their meetings, and maintained the closest communion with them, both christian and ministerial ; but he did not withdraw from the judica- tures of the established church, till the month of February, 1737, when seeing no hope of any reformation in tliat quarter, he gave in a declaration of secession to the presbytery of Dunfermline, and joined the associate presbytery. The fame of Mr Ralph Erskine was now, by his taking part with the seces- sion, considerably extended; for the circumstances attending it were making a great noise in every corner of the country. It particularly attracted the notice of Wesley and Whitefield, who at this time were laying the foundations of Methodism in England. The latter of these gentlemen entered shortly after this period into correspondence with Mr Ralph Erskine, in consequence of which he came to Scotland, paid a visit to him, and preached the first sermon he delivered in this country from that gentleman's pulpit in Duufermliuc. The professed object of Mr Whitefield was the same as that of the secession, namely, tlie reformation of the church, and the promoting of the interests of holi- ness; and one mode of doing so he held in common with seceders, which was the preaching of the doctrines of the cross; in every thing else they were di- rectly opposed to each other. Equally or even more decidedly attached to the doctrines of free gi-ace, the seceders considered the settlement of nations and churches as of the last importance for preserving, promoting, and perpetuating true and undcfiled religion. Nations, in consequence of the baptismal engage- ments of the individuals of which they may be composed, they held to be und5r indispensible obligations to make a national profession of religion ; to cause that all their laws be made to accord with its spirit, and to provide for the due celebration of all its ordinances. Oaths, bonds, and civil associations, they held to be, in their own proper places, legitimate means of attaining, promot- ing, and preserving reformation. Hence they maintained the inviolable obli- gations of the national covenant of Scotland, and of the solenm league and co- venant of the tliree kingdoms, and issued their testimony as a declaration for the doctrine, worship, discipline, and government of the church of Scotland. Of all these matters, Whitetield was utterly ignorant, and utterly careless. He had received priest's orders in the English church, and had sworn the oath ot supremacy, which one would suppose a pretty strong declaration of his being episcopal in his views. Of government in the chui-ch, however, ho made little 276 RALPH ERSKINE. account, for lie waiulered about from land to biiiil, acknowledging no superior, and seenu to have regarded all the furins in >>hich Christianity has been em- bodied with equal favour, or rather, perhaps, with equal contempt. Of course, 31r Whitelieltl and -Mr Erskine had no sooner met, and begun to explain their views, than they were mutually disgusted, and they parted in a manner which, we think, lias left no credit to either of the parties. The associate presbytery was at this time preparing for what tliey considered the practical completion of their testimony, the renewal of the national cove- nants, in a bond suited to their circumstances, which they did at Stirling, in the month of December, 1713 ; 3Ir Halph Erskine being the second name that was subscribed to the bond. The swearing of this bond necessarily introduced the discussion of the religious clause of some burgess oaths, which led to a breach in the secession body, an account of which the reader will find in a previous arti- cle [the life of Ebenezer Ei-skine]. In this controversy 3Ir Ralph Erskine took a decided part, being a violent advocate for the lawfulness of the oath. He, however, did not long survive that unhappy rupture, being seized with a nerv. ous fever, of which he died after eight days' illness, on the 6th of November, 1752, being in the sixty-eighth year of his age, and the forty-second of hia ministry. IMr Kalph Erskine was twice married ; fu-st, to Margaret Dewar, daughter to the laird of Lassodie, who died in the month of November, 1730 ; having lived with him sixteen yeai-s, and born him ten children. He married, secondly, IMargaret Simpson, daughter to 3Ir Simpson, writer to the signet, Edinburgh, who bore him four children, and survived him several years. Three of his sons lived to be ministers of the secession church, but they all died in the prime of life, to the gi-ief of their relatives and friends, who had formed the highest ex- pectations of their future usefulness Of the character of 31r Ralph Erskine there can be, and, in fact, we believe there is, but one opinion. Few greater names belong to the church of Scot- land, of which, notwithstanding of his secession, he considered himself, and must by every fair and impartial man, be considered to have been a most dutiful son to the day of his death. During the days of Ralph Erskine, dissenterisiu was a name and thing unknown in the secession. Secedei-s had dissented from some unconstitutional acts of the judicature of the established church, and were compelled to secede, but they held fast her whole constitution, entered their appeal to her first free and reforming assembly, to which every genuine seceder long looked forward with deep anxiety, ready to plead bis muse before it, and willing to stand or fall by its judgment. Of IMr Ralph Ei-skine's writings, it is scarcely necessary to speak, any more than of his character. They have already, several of them, stood a century of criticism, and are just as much valued by pious and discerning readei-s, as they were on the day when they were lirst published. IModels of conuosition they are not, nor do we believe that they ever \\ere ; but they are rich with the ore of divine truth, and contain many passages that are uncommonly vigorous and happy. Of his poetical works wo have not room to say much ; some of them are all that the author in- tended, which is more than can be said of many poetical productions that have a much higher reputation in the \\orld. His Gospel Sonnets, by far the best of his ])0cms, he composed when he had but newly entered on his ministry, as a compend of the scheme of the gospel, and we know few books that in a smaller compass contain one more perfect. The composition is vei-y homely, but it is just 80 mu(;ii better fitted for the serious and not highly instructed reader, whose benefit alone the author had in view. Of his versions of the Song of Solomon, oJ' the Lamentations of Jeremiah, and of the Book of Job, it must be admitled THOMAS ALEXANDER ERSKTNE. 277 tTiat they are utterly iiiuvorthy of the gloriously divine originals ; but it ou"ht to be renieiubercd, that he was put upon tliese labours by the urgency of liis brethren, uith a view to their being added to the psalmody, and that in this case, plainness and simplicity has always been aimed at, to a degree bordering on tlie bold, not to say the profane. Nor are these attempts, after all, beneath several of the same kind by the greatest names in English poetry. ERSKINE, Thomas Alexander, sixth earl of Kellie, a distinguished musical genius, was born on September 1st, 1732. He was the eldest son of Alexander, fifth earl of Kellie, by Janet Pitcairn, daughter of the celebrated physician and poet. The earls of Kellie were a branch of the ftlarr family, ennobled through the favour of James VI. and I., which was acquired by the services of Sir Thomas Erskine of (iogar, in protecting his majesty from the machinations of the earl of Gowry and his brother. The father of the subject of this memoir, though possessed of a kind of rude wit, was always deemed a person of imperfect in- tellect, of which he seems to have been himself aware. Being confined in Edinburgh castle for his concern in the insurrection of 1715, he one morning came into the room occupied by his brethren in misfortune, showing a paper ir his hand. This was a list of persons whom the government had resolved to prosecute no further, and Avhile his lordship's name stood at the head, on ac- count of his rank, it was closed by the name of a Mr William Fidler, who had been an auditor in the Sccttish exchequer. " Oh, is not fhis a wise govern- ment?" cried the earl, " to begin wi' a fule and end wi' a fiddler ! " On his lordship's death, in 1756, ho was succeeded by his eldest son, who seems to have inherited the wit of his father, along with the more brilliant genius of his mother's family. The eai'l of Kellie displayed, at an early period of life, a considerable share of ability ; and it was anticipated that he would distinguish himself in some public employment worthy of his exalted rank. He was led, however, by an overmastering propensity to music, to devote himself almost exclusively to that art. We are informed by Dr Burney, in his History of 3Iusic, that " the earl of Kellie, who was possessed of more musical science than any dilletante with whom I was ever acquainted, and who, according to Finto, before he tiavelled into Germany, could scarcely tune his fiddle, shut himself up at Manheim with the elder Stamitz, and studied composition, and practised the violin with such seri- ous application, that, at his return to England, there Avas no part of theoretical or practical music, in which he was not equally well vei-sed Avith the greatest professors of his time. Indeed, he had a strengtli of hand on the violin, and a genius for composition, with which few professors ai'e gifted." In the age during which the earl of Kellie flourished, it was unfortunately deemed an al- most indispensible mark of a man of genius, either in literature or music, to de- vote himself nmch to the service of Bacchus. Hence this young nobleman, whose talents might have adorned almost any walk of life, identified himself with the dissolute fraternity who haunted the British metropolis, and of whom there was a considerable otf-shoot even in Edinburgh. Thus he spent, in low buf- fooneries and debaucheries, time which might have been employed to the gen- eral advantage of his country. He, nevertheless, composed a considerable quan- tity of music, which, in its day, enjoyed a high degree of celebrity, though it is generally deemed, in the present age, to be deficient in taste and feeling. " In his works," says a late writei-, " the fervidum ingenium of his country bursts fortli, and elegance is mingled with fire. From the singular ardour and impetuosity of liis temperament, joined to his German education, under the celebrated Stamitz, and at a time when the German overture, or symphony, consisting- of a grand chorus of violins and wind instruments, was in its higlast 278 THOMAS ERSKINE. Tonftio, this nrrent composer lias employed himself chiefly in sjinphoiiics, hut iii a style peculiar to himself. While othei"s please and amuse, it is his province to rouse and almost overset his hearer. Loudness, rapidity, enthusiasm, an- nounced the earl of Kellie. His liarmonies are ackno\vledged to he accurate and ingenious, admirahly calculated for the eflect in vie\v, and discovering a thorough knowledge of music. From some specimens, it appears that his talents were not confined to a single style, which lias made his admirers regret that he did not apply himself to a greater variety of suhjects. He is said to have composed only one song, but that an excellent one. What appeai-s singu- larly peculiar in this musician, is what may be called the velocity of his talents, by nhi(-h he composed -whole jjieces of the most excellent jnusic in one night. Part of his works are still unpublished, and not a little is probably lost Being always remarkably fond of a concert of wind instruments, whenever he met with a good band of them, he was seized with a fit of composition, and wrote pieces in the moment, which he gave away to the performers, and never saw again ; and these, in his own judgment, were the best he ever composed." ^ Having much impaired his constitution by hard living, the earl of Kellie visit- ed Spa, from which he was returning to England, when he was struck with a paralytic shock upon the road. Being advised to stop a few days at Brussels, he was attacked by a putrid fever, of which he died at that city, on the 9th of October, 1781, in the lifty-first year of his age. EliSKINE, Thomas, lord Erskine, was the youngest son of David Heni-y, tenth earl of Buchan. He was born in the year 1750, and, after having pass- ed through the high school classes at Edinburgh, was sent to the university of St Andrews to finish his education. At a very early age he had indjibed a strong predilection for a naval life; and the limited means of his family render- ing an early adoption of some profession necessary, he was allowed to enter the service as a midshipman, under Sir John Lindsay, nephew to the celebrated earl of Mansfield. Young llrskine endjarked at Leith, and did not put foot again on his native soil until a few years before his death. He never, it is believed, held the commission of lieutenant, although he acted for some time in that capacity by the special appointment of his captain, whose kindness in this instance uliimately led to his eleve's abandoning the service altogether, when re- quired to resume the inferior station of a midshipman. After a service of four years, he quitted the navy, and entered the army as an ensign, in the royals, or first regiment of foot, in 1768, In 1770, he married an amiable and accomplished woman, and shortly afterwards went with his regiment to x^linorca, where he spent three years. While in the army, he accjuired great reputation for the versatility and acuteness of his conversational powers. Boswell, who met with the young oflicer in a mixed company in Loiulon, mentions the pleasure which Ur Johnson condescended to express on hearing him, — an ap- probation ^vhicll assures us that the young Scotsman's colloquial talents ^\ere of no ordinary kind, and possessed something more than mere brilliancy or fluency, even at that early period of life. It was the knowledge of these qualities of mind, probably, which induced his mother — a lady whose uncommon acquirements we have already had occasion to eulogise in a memoir of another son to urge him to devote the great energies of his mind to the study of the law and juris- prudence of liis country. Her advice, seconded by the counsel of a few judi- cious friends, was adopted; and, in his '27th year, 'Ihonuis Erskine renounced tlie glittering profession of arms for the graver studies of law, lie entered as a fellow-conmioner, at Trinity College, Cambridge, in the ' Robcilsoii of Dalinen) 's Inquiry into tlic Fine Arts, vol. i. THOMAS ERSKINE. 279 year 1777, merely to obtain a degree, to which he was entitled as the son of a nobleman, and thereby shorten his passage to the bar ; and, at the same time, he inserted his name in the books of Lincoln's inn, as a student at law. One of his college declamations is still extant, as it was delivered in Trinity college chapel. The thesis was the revolution of 16 S3, and the first prize was award- ed to its author ; but, with that nobleness of feeling which always characterized the subject of our memoir, he refused to accept of the reward, alleging as an excuse, tliat he had merely declaimed in conformity with the rules of college, and, not being a resident student, was not entitled to any honorary distinction. A burlesque parody of Gray's Bard which appeared about this time in the 3Iontiily Magazine, was generally attributed to 3Ir Erskine. The origin of this production was a circumstance of a humorous nature. The author had been prevented from taking his place at dinner in the college hall, by the ne- glect of his barber, who failed to present himself in proper time. In the mo- ment of supposed disappointment, hunger, and irritation, the bard pours forth a violent malediction against the whole ti-ibe of hair-dressers, and, in a strain of prophetic denunciation, foretells the overthrow of their craft in the futui-e taste for cropped hair and unpowdered heads. The ode is little remarkable for poetical excellence, but displays a lively fancy and keen perception of the lu- dicrous. In order to acquire tliat knowledge of the technical part of his pro- fession, without which a barrister finds himself hampered at everj- step, I>Ir Erskine becime a pupil of 3Ir, afterwards judge 13uller, then an eminent special pleader, and discharged his laborious and servile avocation at the deslv ivith all the persevering industry' of a common attorney's clerk. Upon the promotion of his preceptor to the bench, he entered into the office of 31r, after- wards baron AVood, where he continued for some months after he had obtained considerable business at the bar. At this time, his evenings were often spent in a celebrated debating association then held in Coach-maker's hall. These spouting clubs, at the period of which we speak, were regarded with a jealous eye by the government ; and it was considered discreditable, or at least prejudicial to the interests of any young man, who looked forward to patronage at the bar, to be connected with them. The subjects usually discussed were of a political nature, and the harangues de- livered in a motley assembly of men of all ranks and principles, were often highly inflammatory in sentiment, and unguarded in expression. But it was in such schools as these, that the talents of a Burke and a Pitt, and an Erskine, were nursed into that surpassing strength and activity which afterwards enabled tliem to 'wield at will' not the 'fierce democracy' but even the senate cf Great Britain. While engaged in these preparatory studies, 3Ir Eiskine Avas obliged to adhere to the most rigid economy in the use of his verj' limited finances, — a privation which the unvarying cheerfulness and strong good sense of his amiable consort enabled him to bear >vith comparative ease. 3Ir Erskine, having completed the probationary period allotted to his at- tendance in the Inns of court, was called to the bar in 177S ; and in the very outset of his legal career, while yet of only one term's standing, made a most brilliant display of professional talent, in the case of captain Baillie, against whom the attorney general had moved for leave to file a criminal information in the court of king's bench, for a libel on the earl of Sandwich. In the course of this his first speech, 3Ir Erskine displayed the same undaunted spirit which marked his whole career. He attacked the noble earl in a strain of severe invective ; Lord 3Iansfield, observing the young counsel heated with his subject, and growing pei-scmal on the first lord of the admiralty, told him that lord Sandwicli was net before the court : " I know," replied the undaunted 280 THOMAS EKSKIXE. omtor, " thnt he is not forinally before the court ; but for t]iat >ery reason I will biiiiij Imii before the court. He lias placed there men in the front of the battle, in hopes to escape under tlieir shelter; but I will not join in battle with them ; tlieir vices, though screwed up to the highest pitch of human de- pravity, are not of dignity enough to vindicate the combat wilii me ; I will drag him to light wlio is tlie dark mover behind this scene of iniquity. I as- sert tliat the earl of Sandwidi has but one road to escape out of this business without pollution and disgrace : and that is, by publicly disavoAving the acts of llie prosecutors, and restoring captain Baillie to his conunand." 3Ir Erskine's next speech was lor 3IrCarnan, a bookseller, at the bar of the house of connuons, .against the monopoly of the two universities, in printing alma- nacs. Lord North, then prime minister, and chancellor of Oxford, had intro- duced a bill into the house of commons, for re-vesting the univei-sities in their monopoly, which had fallen to the ground by certain judgments which Carnan had obtained in tlie courts of Law ; the opposition to the premier's measure was considered a desperate attempt, but, to the honour of tlie house, the bill was rejected by a majority of 45 votes. But long after having gained tlieir original triumph, 3Ir Erskine made a most splendid appeai-ance for tlie man of the people, lord George Gordon, at the Old Bailey, 'litis great speech, and the acquittal which it secured to tiie object of it, have been pronounced by a competent jud^e, the deathblow of the tremendous doctrine of constructive treason. The monster, indeed, manifested sjTiiptoms of returning life at an after period; but we shall see with what noble indignation its extirpator launched a second irresistible shaft at the reviving reptile. Lord George's impeachment arose out of the following circumstances. Sir George Saville had introduced a bill into parliament for the relief of the Koman catholics of EngLand from some of the penalties they were subject to bv the test Laws. The good etfecls of this measiu-e, which only applied to England, were immediately felt, and in the next session it was proposed to extend the operation of similar measures to Scotland. This produced many popular tumults in Scotland, particularly in Edinburgh, where the mob destroyed some popish chapels. The irriuition of the public mind in Scotland soon extended itself to England, and produced a reaction of feeling in tliat country also. A number of protestant societies were formed in both parts of the kingdom for the purpose of obtaining the repeal of Saville"s act, as a measure fraught with danger to the constitution, both of church and state. In November, 1779, lord George tiordon, the younger brother of the duke of Gordon, and at that time a member of the house of commons, became president of the associated protestants of London ; and on the memorable 2d of June, 17S0, while pro- ceeding to present a petition against concession to Roman catholics, signed by 41,000 protestants, was attended by a mob so numerous, and who conducted themselves so outrageously, as for a moment to extinguish all police and govern- ment in the city of London. For this indignity otl'ered to the person of royaltv itself, lord George and several othei-s were committed to the tower, fpon his trial, 31r Erskine delivered a speech less remarkable, perhaps, for dnzzlinvhich he had formerly boi-ne in public estimation. His death was produced by an inflammation of the chest, with which he was seized \vhile on the voyage betwixt London and Edin- burgh. He >vas landed at Scarborough, and proceeded to Scotland by short stages, but died on the 17th of November, 1823, at Ammondell house. IMr Erskine's ])eculiar sphere seems to have been oratorical advocacy ; his appear- ance as a senator never equalled that which he made at the bar. Nor is he en- titled, as a political writer, to much distinction. His pamphlet, entitled " A View of (he Causes and Consequences of the War with France," which he pub- lished in support of Mr Fox's principles, indeed, ran through forty-eioht edi- tions ; but owed its unprecedented sale more to the spirit of the times and the celebrity of its author's name, than to its own intrinsic merit. The preface to Mr Fox's collected speeches was also written by him, as well as a singular poli- tical romance, entitled " Armaba," and some spirited pamphlets in support of the Greek cause. Ijy his first wife, lord Erskine had three sons and five daughters. The eldest of his sons, David 3Iontague, now lord Erskine, was for some time member plenipotentiary to the United States, and afterwards president at the court of Wirteiuberg, F FALCONER, William, author of " The Shipwreck, a poem," was born in I'^-dinburgh about the year 1730. His father waa a barber and wiff-maker, in a WILLIAM FALCONER. 283 uell-ltnowii street callytl the Netlierbow, where lie ultiiuntely became insolvent. A brothel' and sister of the tuneful Falconer — the only individuals who stood in that relation to him — were born deaf and dmnb ; and the latter, on account of her infirmities, was a constant inmate of the royal in fu-mary of Edinburgh, some time after the beginning of the present century. The father of the poet was a cousin-gernian of the Kev. i\Ir Robertson, minister of the parish of Borthwick ; so that this humble bard was a very near relation of the author of the History of Scotland, and also of lord Brougham and Vaux. Old Falconer being reduced to insolvency, was enabled by his friends to open a grocer's shop ; but being de- prived of his wife, ^vho was a prudent and active woman, his affairs once more became deranged, and he terminated his life in extreme indigence. The education of young Falconer was of that humble kind which might have been expected from his father's circumstances. A teacher of the name of Web- ster gave him instructions in reading, writing, and arithmetic. He used to say that this was the whole amount of his school education. It appears that he jKissessed, even in early youth, an ardour of genius, and a zeal in the awjuisition of know- ledge, Avhicii in a great measure supplied his denciences. In his poem of the Shipwreck, he evidently alludes to his own attainments, in the following lines : — •■' On liim fair science dawned in happier liour, A\Yakeiiing into bloom jouiig fancy's flower ; But soon adversit}', with freezing blast, The blossom withered and the dawn o'ercast ; Foi'lorn of heart, and, by severe decree, Condemned, reluctant, to tlie faithless sea ; With long farewell, he left the laurel grove, Wliere science and the tuneful sistere rove." When very young, he was torn from his self-pursued studies, and entered as an apprentice on board a merchant vessel belonging to Leith. He afterwards became servant to Mr Campbell, the author of Lexiphanes, who was purser of tlie ship to which he belonged, and who, finding in him an aptitude for know- ledne, kindly undertook to give him some instructions in pei-son. He subse- fjuently became second mate in the Britannia, a vessel in the Levant trade, which, on her passage from Alexandria to Venice, was shipwrecked off Cape Colonna, on the coast of Greece. Only three of the crew were saved, and Falconer was of the number. The event furnished him with the material of a poem, by \vlii(;h it is probable his name will be for ever rememberetL The poet was at this time about eighteen yeai-s of age. In 1751, when two or three years older, he is found residing in his native city , Avhere he published his first known work, a poem, " Sacred to the Memory of his Royal Highness, Frederick, Prince of Wales." He is said to have followed up this effort by several minor pie(;es, which he transmitted to the Gentleman's Magazine. Mr Clarke, the editor of a respectable edition of his poems, points out " The Chap- lain's Petition to the Lieutenants in the Ward-room," the "Description of a Ninety Gun Ship," and some lines "On the Uncommon Scarcity of Poetry," as among these fugitive productions. Mr Clarke has likewise pi-csented his readers with a whimsical little poem, descriptive of the abode and sentiments of a midship- man, which was one of the poet's early productions; and offers some reasons for supposing that he was the author of the popular song, " Cease, rude Boi-eas." Little is known of Falconer dm-ing this period of his life, except that he nnist have been making considerable additions to his stock of knowledge and ideas. His poem, "The Shipwreck," was published in 1762, being dedicated 284 WILLIAM FALCONER. to Edward, didvhidi could only liave been acquired by extensive reading. It was at once placed in tlie (ii'St rank of desi.riptive poetry, where it h;is ever since continued. " '1 he distant ocean," sajs an eminent critic, "and it^s grand phenomena, have employed the pens of the most eminent poets, but they have generally produced an elfect by inde- finite outlines and imaginary incidents. In Falconer, we have the painting of a great artist, taken on the spot, with such minute fidelity, as ^veU as pictur- esfjue ed'ect, that we are chained to the s<-cne with all the feelings of actual ter- ror. In the use of imagery, Falconer displays original powers. His sunset, midnight, morning. Sec, are not such as have descended from poet to poet. He beheld these objects under circumsUmces in which it is the lot of few to be placed. His images, therefore, cainiot be transferred or borrowed; they have an api)r<)priation which must not be disturbed, nor can we trace them to any source but that of genuine poetry." Another writer remarks, "The Shipwreck is didactic as well as descriptive, and may be reconnnended to a young sailor, not only to excite his enthusiasm, but improve his knowledge of the art. It is of inestimable value to this country, since it contains within itself the rudi- ments of navigation : if not suflicient to form a complete seaman, it may cer- tainly be considered as the grannnar of his professional science. 1 have heard many experienced oHiccrs declare, that the rules and maxims delivered in this poem, for the conduct of a ship in the most perilous emergency, form the best, indeed, the only opinions \vhich a skilful mariner should adopt." Against such a poem it forms no proper objection, that nmch of the language, being techni- cal, is only perfectly understood by a class. By his dedi<;ation, the poet gained the notice and patronage of the duke of York, who, it will be recollected, was himself a seaman. Almost innnediately after the poem was published, his royal highness induced Falconer to leave the merchant service, and procured him the rank of a midshipman in Sir Edward Hawke's ship, the Hoyal George. In gratitude. Falconer AVrote an " Ode on the duke of York's second departure from England as rear-admiral," which was j)ubli,slied, but displays a merit more commensurate with the unimportance of the subject than the genius of the author. It is said that Falconer composed this poem " during an occasional absentee from his messmates, when he retired into a small space formed between the cable tiers and the ship's side." In 17G.3, the war being brought to a close. Falconer's ship was paid off, — long before he had completed that period of service which could have entitled him to promotion. He then exchanged the military for the civil department of the naval service, and became purser of the (;ilory frigate of 32 guns. Either in the interval between the two services, or before his appointment as a niidsliipman, he paid a visit to Scotland, and spent some time in the manse of (iladsuiuir, with iJr Hobertson, the liistorian, who, we are told, was ]>roud to acknowledge tiie relationship that existed between him and this self-instructed and ingenious man. Soon after this period. Falconer married a IMiss Hicks, daughter of the Surgeon of Sheerness Yard. She has been described as " a woman of cultivatetl mind, elegant in her person, and sensible and agreeable in conversation."' It is said that the match was entered into against the will of her parents, who, looking only to the external circumstances of the i)oet, thought her thrown away upon a poor Scottish adventurer. Notwithstanding this painful circum- stance, and, there is reason to fear, real poverty besides, the pair lived happily. ' Littrr by Joseph Mostr, European Mnga-Auc, 1S03, p. 42!. WILLIAIH FALCONER. 285 Falconer endeavoured to supjiort himself by literature. He compiled a *' Liiiversal 3Iarine Dictionary," wliicli, Irom its usefulness as a book of re- ference, soon became generally used in the navy. Like most other literary Scotsmen of that period, he was a zealous partisan of the Bute administration and endeavoured to defend it against the attacks of its jealous and illiberal ene- mies. For this purpose, he published a satire, called " the Demaijo"-ue." which was more particularly aimed at lord Chatham, Wilkes, and CIiurchilL We have not learned that it was attended with any particuLir effect. Falconer at this time, lived in a manner at once economical, and highly appropriate to his literary chai-acter. " When the Glory ^vas laid in ordinary at Chatham, commissioner Hanway, brother to the benevolent Jonas Ilanway, became de- Jighted with the genius of its pui-ser. The captain's cabin was ordered to be fitted up with a stove, and with eveiy addition of comfort that could be pro- cured ; in order that Falconer might thus be enabled to enjoy his favourite propensity, without either molestation or expense.'' — Clark's Life of Falconer. In 1769, the poet had removed to London, and resided for some time in the former buildings of Somerset house. From this place he dated the last edition of the Shipwreck published in his own life-lime. That Falconer must have possessed the personal qualities of a man of the world, rather than those of an abstracted student or child of the nuises, seems to be proved by 3Ir 3Iurrav, the bookseller, liaving proposed to take him into partnership. He is supposed to have been only pre\ented from acceding to this proposal by receiving an ap- pointment to the pui-sersliip of the Aurora frigate, \\liich was ordered to cari-y out to India, 3Iessrs \'ansiltart, Scrofton, and Forde, as supervisors of the af fairs of the company. He was also promised the otlice of private secretai-y to those gentlemen, a situation from which his friends conceived hopes that he might eventually obtain lasting advantages. It had been otherwise ordered. The Aurora sailed from England on the 30th of September, 17G9, and, after touching at the Cape, was lost during the remainder of the passage, in a man- ner which left no trace by which the cause of the calamity could be discovered. It was conjectured that the vessel took fire at sea ; but the more probable sup- position is that she foundered in the 3Iosambique channel. The widow of Fal- coner (who eventually died at Bath,) resided for some years afterwards in his apartments at Somerset house, partly supported by 3Ir 31iller, the bookseller, who, in considei-ation of the rapid sale of tlie 31arine Dictionary, generously bestowed upon her sums not stipulated for in his contract whh the author. 31i- 3Ioser, whom we have already quoted, mentions that he once met her walking in the garden, near her lodging, and, without knowing who she was, happened, in conversation, to express his admiration of " the Shipwreck." She was in- stantly in tears. "She presented me," says 3Ir 31. " with a copy of the Shij*- wreck, and seemed much atlected by my commiseration of the misfortunes of a man, Avhose work appears in its catasti-ophe prophetic." They had never had any children. " In person," says 3Ir Clarke, " Falconer was about five feet seven inches in height ; of a thin light make, with a dark weather-beaten complexion, and rather what is termed hard-featured, being considerably marked with the small pox ; ills hair was of a brownish hue. In point of a"S ; an exercise which his master was in the habit of pre- scribing to his pupLU, His theses were not only praised at the time of their be- ing delivered, but were long preserved and shown with pride by 31r 3Iartin, as the production of a youthful scholai'. In October, 1531^, Ferguson was, at the age of fifteen, removed to the university of St Andrews, where he was particularly recommended to the notice of Mr Tullidelph, who had been lately promoted to the otiice of Principal of one of the colleges. At St Andrews, there is an an- nual exhibition for four bursaries, when the successful competitors, in wTiting and translating Latin, obtain gratuitous board at the college table, during four years. Fersruson stood tirst among the competitoi-s of the under-graduate course for the vear he entered the college. At that period the Greek language was sel- dom taught in the grammar schools in Scotland: and although young Ferguson had thus honourably distinguished himself by his knowledge of Latin, he seems to have been unacquainted with Greek. By his assiduity, however, he amply regained his lost time ; for so ardently did he apply himself to the study of that language, tliat, betore the close of the session, he was able to construe Homer; nor did his ardour cease with his attendance at college, for during the vacation, he tasked himself to prepare one hundred lines of the Iliad every day, and fa- cility increasing as he advanced in knowledge, he was enabled to enlarge his task, so that by the commencement of the succeeding session, or term, he had gone through the whole poem. This laborious course of study enabled him to devote the succeeding years of his attendance at college to the atuinment of a knowledge of mathematics, logic, metaphysics, and etiiics. From St Andrews, on the close of his elementary studies, 3Ir Ferguson re- moved to Edinbunrh to mix with, and fonu a distinguished member of that galaxy of great men which illustrated the northern metropolis about the middle of the 1 ^th century. Nor was it long before his acquaintance among those who were thus to shed a lustre over Scotland commenc^^d, for soon after his arrival in Edinbiir^^li, he became a member of a philosophical society, which comprehend- ed Dr Robertson, Dr Blair, 31r John Home, tlie author of " Douglxis," and yVr ,\lexander Carlyle. A society composed of young men of abilities so emi- nent, it may easily be believed, was an institution peculiarly well adapted to pro- mote intellectual improvement and the acquisition of knowledge. This society afterwards merged in the Specubtive Society, which still exists, and lias been the favourite resort of most of the young men of talent who hav»been educated iu Edinburgh during the last sixty years. " In his private studies," (we are informed by one of his most intimate friends,) DR. ADAJI FERGUSON. 287 Mr Ferguson, while in Edinburgh, devoted his chief attention " to natural, mor- al, and political philosopiiy. Jlis strong and inquiring unprejudiced mind, versed in (irecian and Roman literature, rendei'ed him a zealous friend of ra- tional and uell-regulated liberty. He was a constitutional whig, equally re- moved from republi(;an licentiousness and tory bigotry. Aware that all politiciil establislnnents ought to be for the good of the whole people, he wished the means to vary in dilferent cases, according to the diversity of character and circumstan- ces ; and was convinced with Aristotle that the perfection or defect of the insti- tutions of one country does not necessarily imply either perfection or defect of tlie similar institutions of another ; and that restraint is necessary, in the inverse proportion of general knowledge and virtue. These were the sentiments he cherished in his youtii ; these the sentiments he cherished in his old age.'' IMr Ferguson was intended for the church, and had not pursued the study of divinity beyond two years, when, in 17 41, Mr 3Iurray, brotiier to Lord Elibank, offered him the situation of deputy chaplain, under himself, in the l"2d regiment. In order, however, to obtain a license as a preacher in the churcii of Scotland, it was necessary at that time to have studied divinity for six years, and although the fact of Ferguson having some slight knowledge of the (jaelic language, might have entitled him to have two of these years discounted, still no presbytery was authorized to have granted him his license. He was therefore obliged to apply to the general assembly of the church of Scotland, when in considei'ation of the high testimonials which he produced from several professors, a dispensation Mas granted in his favour, and having passed his trials, he obtained his license as a preacher ; immediately after which lie joined his regiment, then in active ser- vice in Flanders. In a short time he had the good fortune to be promoted to the rank of principal cliaplain. 3Ir Gibbon has declared that the manoeu\Tes of a battalion of militia, of which he was colonel, had enabled him to comprehend and describe the evolutions of the Roman legion ; and no doubt Mr Ferguson owed his knowledge of military aflairs by which he was enabled to give such distinctness and liveliness to his descriptions of wars and battles, to the experience which he acquired while with his regiment on the continent. Nor did his service prove less beneficial to him by throwing open a wide and instructive field of observation of the human cha- racter, and imparting a practical knowledge of the mainspring of political events. On the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, Mr Ferguson obtained leave of absence when he visited his native country. At home, he spent his time partly in Perth- shire, wandering about in comparative idleness, enjoying the beautiful scenery which surrounded his father's manse, and partly in the capital where he renewed his acquaintance with the friends of his youth. About this period he solicited the Duke of Athol for the living of Caputh, a beautiful and retired parish near Dunkeld, in Perthshire; he was, however, unsuccessful in his application, and it was owing, perhaps, to this disappointment that he did not ask the living of Lo- gic Rait, on the death of his father, which took place shortly after. Having re- joined his regiment, he seems thenceforward to have abandoned all intention of undertaking a parochial charge. Indeed, his talents did not peculiarly fit him for the Oilice of a preacher ; for although he had acquired a great facility in writing, his sermons were rather moral essays than eloquent discourses. This, in a great measure, disqualified him for becoming a favourite with a presbyterian congregation, in which so much always depends on tlie preacher's capacity to excite and sustain a spirit of devotion among his hearers, by the fidelity, earnestness, and energy of his exhortations, and the fervour of his prayers. Although thus unfitted by the nature of his genius to shine as a preacher, Mr Ferguson's great abilities, 288 DR. ADAM FERGUSON. his polished maniiei-s, and the benevolence of his disposition, peculiarly fitted liini for taking a prominent part in literature and in private society. In the year 1757, ."Mr Ferguson resigned the chaplaincy of the 42d regiment, after which he was employed for upwards of two years as private tutor in the family of the earl of liute; and in the year 1759, he was chosen professor of natural philosopliy, in the university of Edinburgh ; which chair he retained un- til the year 17G4, when he obtained the professoi-ship of moral philosophy — a chair nmch better suited to his genius, and to the course of study which he had pursued. In 17G6, he published his Essays on Civil Society. The object of this work is, — according to the favourite mode of the literary men with whom Ferguson associated, — to trace men through the several steps in his progress from barbarism to civil izixtion. This, which was his first publication, contributed not a little to raise 31r Ferguson in public estimation, and the university of Ediubm-gh hasten- ed to confer on him the honorary degree of LL. D. In the same year, he re- visited the scenes of his youth, and delighted the old parishioners of his father by recollecting them individually, while they were no less proud tliat their parish had produced a man who was held in such estimation in the world During this year, also, he was married to 3Iiss Burnet, from Aberdeenshire, the amiable niece of the distinguished professor Black, of Edinburgh. In order to render his lec- tures more useful to his pupils, Dr Fergusv»n, about this time, published " his in- stitutes or synopsis of /lis lectures." Ur Ferguson continued to enjoy the literary society of Edinburgh, interrupted only by the recreation of cultivating a small farm in the neighbourhood of the city, until the year 1773 ; when he Avas induced by the liberal offers of lord Chesterfield, nephew to the celebrated earl, to accompany him in his travels. After a tour through most of the countries of Europe, Ur Ferguson returned in 1775, to the duties of his chair, which, during his absence, had been ably per- formed by the well known Uugald Stewart. This relief from his academical duties, proved not only highly advantageous to Dr Ferguson in a pecuniary point of view, but contributed considerably to his improvement. His lectui-es on his return were not only numerously attended by the usual routine of students, but by men of the first rank and talents in the country. We have the testimony of one, who, although young at the time, seems to have been well able to appreci- ate his Uilents, as to Dr Ferguson's manner as a lecturer. — " The doctor's mode of communicating knowledge, was firm, manly, and impressive, but mild and ele- gant ; he was mild, but justly severe in his rebukes to the inattentive and neo-li- gent. One day that he was engaged in that part of his course tiiat treated of the practical application of the moral qualities wJiich he had before described, and was speaking of the folly of idleness and inattention to the business in Iiand, some thoughtless young men were whispering and tritling in the gallery. ' Gen- tlemen,' said he, ' please to attend, this subject peculiarly concerns you.' " In the year 177G, Dr Ferguson answered Dr Price's production on civil and reli- gious liberty. The ground on which he ditVered >vitii Dr Trice, Avas on the aiv plicability of his doctrine to society and to imperfect man. We have an early notice of Dr Ferguson's being engaged in the composition of his History of the Honuin Kepublic in the following valuable letter, addressed by liim to Edward (iibbon, dated Edinburgh, I Sih April, 1776 : '''Dear sir I should nuike some apology for not writing you sooner, an answer to your obliol ing letter ; but if you should honour me frcfjuently with such requests, you will find that, with very good intentions, I am a very dilatory and irregular corres- pondent. I am sorry to tell you, that our respectable friend, 3Ir Hume, is still declining in his health ; he is greatly emaciated, and loses strength. He talks DR. ADAM FERGUSON. 289 familiarly of his near prospect of dying. His mother, it seems, died under the same symptoms ; and it appears so little necessary, or proper, to flatter him, that no one attempts it. I never observed his understanding more clear, or his hu- mour more pleasant or lively. He luis a great aversion to leaving the tranquil- lity of his own house, to go in search of health among inns and hostlers. And his friends here gave way to him for some time ; but now think it necessary that he should make an eflbrt to try what change of place and air, or anything else Sir John Pringle niay advise, can do for him. 1 left him this morning in the mind to comply in this article, and I hope, that he will be prevailed on to set out in a few days. He is just now sixty-tive. " I am very glad that the pleasure you give us, recoils a little on yourself, through our feeble testimony. I have, as you suppose, been employed, at any intervals of leisure or rest 1 have had for some years, in taking notes or collect- ing materials for a history of the destruction that broke down the Roman repub- lic, and ended in the esLablishment of Augustus and his immediate successors. The compliment you are pleased to pay, I cannot accept of, even to my subject. Your subject now appeai-s with advantages it was not supposed to have had, and I suspect, that the magnihcence of the mouldering ruin will appear more striking, than the same building, when the view is perplexed with scaifold- ing, workmen, and disorderly lodgers, and the ear is stunned with the noise of destructions and repairs, and the alarms of tii'e. The night which you be- gin to describe is solemn, and there are gleams of light superior to what is to be found in any other time. I comfort myself, that as my trade is the study of hu- man nature, I could not lix on a more interesting corner of it, than the end ot the Roman republic. Whether my compilations should ever deserve the atten- tion of any one besides myself, must remain to be determined after they are far- ther advanced. I take the liberty to trouble you with the enclosed for 3Ir Smith, (Dr Adam Smith,) Avhose uncertain stay in London makes me at a loss how to direct for him. You have both such reason to be pleased with the world just now, that I hope you are pleased with each other. I am, with the greatest respect, dear sir, your most obedient and humble servant, Adam Ferguson." This letter is not only valuable from its intrinsic worth and the reference it lias to the composition of the History of the Roman Republic, but from its presenting, connected by one link, four of the greatest names in British literature. 3Ir Fer- guson, however, was interrupted in the prosecution of his historical labours, hav- ing been, through the influence of his friend 3Ir Dunckis, aftervvards lord 31el- ville, appointed secretary to tiie commissioners sent out to America in the year 1778, to negotiate an arrangement with our revolted colonies in that continent The following historical detail will show the success of this mission : — ■ "In the beginning of June, 1778, the new commissioners arrived at Philadel- phia, more than a month after the ratification of the treaty with France had been formally exchanged. The reception they met with was such as men the most opposite in their politics had foreseen and foretold. Dr Ferguson, secretary to the commission, was refused a passport to the Congi-ess, and they were compelled to forward their papers by the common means. " The commissionei-s, at the very outset, made concessions far greater than the Americans, in their several petitions to the king, had requested or desired — greater, indeed, than the powei-s conferred upon them by the act seemed to au- thorize. Amongst the most remarkable of these, was the engagement to agree tiiat no military force should be kept up in the diderent states of America, with- out the consent of the general congress of the several assemblies — to concur in measures caicukited to discharge the debts of America, and to raise the credit and value of the paper circulation — to admit of representatives from the several states, 290 DR. ADAM FERGUSON. who should liave a seat and voice ia tiie jvirlianient of Great r>ritnin — to establish a freedom of legislation and internal government, comprehending every privilege short of a total separation of interest, or consistent with that union of force in uhich the sat'ety of the connuon religion and liberty depends. '• These papei-s, when laid before the Congress, were read with astonishment and regret, but from the declaration of independence, they had neither the \vill, nor the power to recede. An answer, therefore, brief but conclusive, was re- turned by the president, Henry Laurens, declaring, ' that nothing but an ear- nest desire to spare tiie farther etl'usion of human blood could luive induced them to read a paper containing expressions so disrespectful to his most christian ma- jesty, their allv, or to consider of propositions so derogatory to the honour of an independent nation. The commission under which they act, supposes the people of America to be still subject to the croun of Great Britain, which is au idea utterly inadmissible.' The president added, 'that he was directed to infonu their excellencies of the inclination of the congress to peace, notwithstanding the unjust claims from which this war originated, and the savage manner in which it had been conducted. They will, therefore, be ready to enter upon the con- sideration of a treaty of peace and commerce, not inconsistent with treaties al- ready subsisting, when the king of Great Britain shall demonstrate a sincere dis- position for thati purpose ; and tlie only solid proof of this disposition, will be an explicit acknowledgment of the independence of the United States, or the with- drawing his fleets and armies.' " Conduct so haughty on the part of the Ameri- cans, necessarily put a stop to all farther negotiation, and the commissioners hav- ing, in a valedictory manit'esto, appealed to tlie people, returned home. On his return to Scotland, Dr Ferguson resumed the charge of his class and continued the preparation of the Roman Histoiy. That work made its appear- ance in the year 17S3 ; and two years afterwards, he resigned the chair of moral philosophy in favour of 3Ir Dugald Stewart ; while he was himself permitted to retire on the salary of the mathematical class which !Mr Stewart had held. Dr Ferguson then took up his residence at 3Ianor, in the county of Peebles, where he passed his time in literary ease and in farming : an occupation for which he had a peculiar taste, but which he ultimately found so unprofitable, that he was glad to i relinfjiiish it. He seems also to have devoted his attention to the correction of his lectures, which he published in 1793. \\ hile exei\ipt tVom all cares and in the enjoyment of sfood health, and of a competent fortune, Dr Ferguson, in his old age, conceived the extraordinary pro- ject of visiting Rome. He accordingly repaired once more to the continent, visiting the cities of Berlin and Vienna, where he was received with "^reat atten- tion. His progress southward was, however, stopped by the convulsions conse- quent on the French revolution. To this great political phenomenon, Dr Fer- guson's attention had been e.nrnestly directed, and it is curious to know, that he had drawn up (although he did not publish it) a memorial, pointing out the dangers to which the liberties of Europe were exposed, and proposing a con- gress with objects siuiibir to those which occupied the conras effected, I began making levers (which I then called bars) ; and by apply- ing weights to them different «^)"s, I found the power gained by my bar was just in proportion to the lengths of the different parts of the bar on either side of the prop. — I then thought it w^is a great pity, that, by means of this bar, a weight could be raised but a ver^ little way. On this I soon imagined, that, by pulling round a wheel, the weight might be raised to any hei£ht by tying a rope to the weight, and winding the rope round the axle of the Avheel : and that the power gained must be just as great as the wheel was broader than the .-ixle was thick ; and found it to be exactly so, by hanging one weight to a rope put round the wheel, and another to the rope that coiled round the axJe. So that, in these two machines, it appeared very plain, tliat their advantasre Avas as great as tlie space gone through by the working power exceeded the space gone through by the weight. And this property I also thought must take place in a wedge for cleaving wood : but then I happened not to think of the screw. — By means of a turning lathe which my tather had, and sometimes used, and a little knife, I was enabled to make wheels and other thinefs necessarj- for my purpose. I then wTote a short account of these nnchines, and sketched out figures of them with a pen, imagining it to be the first treatise of the kind that ever was written : but found my mistake, when I afterwards showed it to a gentleman, who told me th.it these things were known long before, and showed me a printed book in which they were treated of: and I wtis much pleased when 1 found, that my aciount (so far as I liad carried it) agreed with the principles of meclianics in the book he showed me. And from that time my mind preserved a constant tendency to improve in that science. But as my father could not afford to maintain me while I was in pursuit only of tiiese mattei-s, and I was rather too young and «eak for hard labour, he put me out to a neighbour to keep sheep, which I continued to do for some vears ; and in that time I began to study the stars in the night. In the dav-lime I amused myself by nuiking models of mills, spinning-whecb, and such other things as I happened to see. I then went to senre a considerable farmer in the neighbourhoo*!. whose name was Jajues Glashan. I found him very kind and indulgent : but he soon ob- JAMES FERGUSON. 293 served, that in the eveiiincfs, uhen my work Avas over, I went into .1 fiehl wilh a blanket about nie, lay down on my back, and stretched ,1 thread Avitli small beads upon it, at arms-length, between my eye and the stai-s, sliding the beads upon it till they hid such and such stare from my eye, in order to take their ap- parent distances from one another, and then, laying the thread down on a pa- per, I marked the stars thereon by the beads, a<;cx)rding to their respective positions, having a candle by nie. 3Iy master at fust laughed at me, but when I explained my meaning to him, he encouraged me to go on; and that I might make fair copies in the d.iy-time of what I had done in the night, he often worked for me himself. 1 shall always have a respect for the memory of that man. One day he happened to send me with a message to Rev. 3Ir John Gilchrist, minister at Keith, to whom 1 liad been known from my childhood. I carried my star-papers to show them to liim, and found liim looking over a large parcel of maps, which I surveyed with great pleasure, as they were the first I hatl ever seen. He then told me, that the earth is round like a ball, and explained the map of it to me. I requested him to lend me that map, to take a copy of it in the evenings. He cheerfully consented to this, giving me at the same time a pair of compasses, a ruler, pens, ink, and paper ; and dismissed me with an in- junction not to negle<"-t my master's business by copying the map, Avhich I might keep as long as I pleased. For this pleasant employment, my master gave me more time than I could reasonably expect : and often took the threshing-flail out of my liands, and Avorked himself, while I sat by him in tlie barn, busy with my compasses, ruler, and pen. When I had finished the copy, I asked leave to can-y home the map ; he told me I >vas at liberty to do so, and might stay two houi-s to convei-se with the minister. — In my way thither, I happened to pass by the school at which I had been before, and saw a genteel-looking man, whose name I after\vards learnt was Cantley, painting a sun-dial on the wall. I stopt a while to obsen-e him, and the schoolmaster came out, and asked mo what parcel it was that I had under my arm. I showed him the map, and the copy I h.ad made of it, where- with he appeai'ed to be very well pleased ; and asked me whether I should not like to learn of 3Ir Cantley to make sun-dials ? 3Ir Cantley looked at the copy of the map, and commended it much ; telling the schoolmaster, 3Ir John Skinner, that it was a pity I did not meet with notice and encouragement. I had a good deal of conversation with him, and found him to be quite affable and com- municative ; which made me think I should be extremely happy if I could be further acquainted with him. I then proceeded with the map to the minister, and showed him the copy of it. While we were conversing together, a neighbouring gentleman, Thomas Grant, esq. of AchojTianey, happened to come in, and the minister immediately inti'oduced me to him, showing him what I had done. He expressed great sat- isfaction, asked me some questions about the construction of maps, and told me, that if I would go and live at his house, he would order his butler, Alexander Cantley, to give me a great deal of instruction. Finding that this Cantley was the man whom I had seen painting the sun-dial, and of whom I had already conceived a vei'y high opinion, I told 'squire Grant, that I should rejoice to be at his house as soon as the time was expired for which I was engaged \vith my present master. He very politely offered to put one in my place, but this I declined. When the term of my servitude \\as out, I lefi my good master, and went to the gentleman's house, where I quickly found myself with a most humane 294 JAMES FERGUSON. good family. 3Ir Cantley the butler soon became my friend, and continued so till liis deatlu He was tlie most extraordinary man that I ever was acquainted Milli, or perhaps ever shall see ; for he was a complete master of arithmetic, a good mathematician, a master of nmsic on every known instrument except the harp, understood Latin, French, and tireek, let blood extremely well, and could even prescribe as a physician upon any urgent occasion. He was what is generally called self-taught ; but I think he might with much greater propriety have been termed, God Almighty's scholar. He immediately began to teach me decimal arithmetic, and algebra ; for I had already learnt vulgar arithmetic, at my leisure hours from books. He then proceeded to teach me the elements of geometry ; but, to my inexpressible grief, just as I was beginning that branch of science, he left 31r (jrant, and went to the late earl Fife's, at several miles distance. 'J'he good family I was then with could not prevail with rae to stay after he was gone ; so I left them, and Avent to my father's. He had made me a present of Gordon's Geogi-aphical Grammar, which, at that time, was to me a great treasure. There is no figure of a globe in it, al- though it contains a tolerable description of the globes, and their use. From this description I made a globe in three weeks at my father's, having turned the ball thereof out of a piece of wood ; which ball I covered with paper, and delineated a map of the world upon it, made the meridian ring and horizon of wood, covered them ivith paper, and graduated them : and was happy to find, tliat by my globe, which was the first 1 ever saw, I could solve the problems. But this was not likely to atford me bread ; and I could not think of stay- ing with my father, who, I knew full well could not maintain me in that way, as it could be of no service to him ; and he had, without my assistance, hands sufficient for all his work. I then went to a miller, thinking it would be a very easy business to attend the mill, and that 1 should have a great deal of leisure time to study decimal arithmetic and geometi'y. But my master, beinof too fond of tippling at an ale-house, left the whole care of the mill to me, and almost stai-ved me for want of victuals ; so that I was glad when I could have a little oat-meal mixed witii cold water to eat, I was engaged for a year in that man's service ; at the end of which I left him, and returned in a very weak state to ray father's. Soon after I had recovered my former strength, a neighbouring fanner, who practised as a physician in that part of the country, came to my father's, wanting to have me .is a labouring servant. 3Iy father advised me to go to Dr Young, telling me that the doctor would instruct rae in that part of his business. 'Ibis he promised to do, which was a temptation to rae. But instead of per- forming his promise, he kept me constantly at very hard labour, and never once showed me one of his books. All his servants complained that he was the hardest master they had ever lived with ; and it was my misfortune to be en- gaged with him for half a year. But at the end of three months I was so much overuTOUght, that I \»as almost disabled, which obliged me to leave him ; and he was so unjust as to give me nothing at all for the time I had been with him, because I did not complete my half year's service ; though he knew that I was not able, and had seen me working for the last fortnight as much as possible with one hand and arm, \vhen I could not lift the other from my side. And «hat I thought was particularly hard, be never once tried to give nie the least relief, further than once bleeding me, which rather did me hurt than good, as I was very weak, and much emaciated. I then went to my father's, where I was confined for two months on account of my hurt, and despaired of ever re- covering the use of my left arni. And during all that time the doctor never JAMES FERGUSON, 293 once came fo see me, altlioiij^h the distance was not quite two miles. Rut my friend 3Ir Cantley hearinnf of my misfortune, at twelve miles' distance, sent me proper medicines and applications, by means of which I recovered the use of my arm ; but found myself too weak to tliink of goinj into service again, and had entirely lost my appetite, so that I could take nothing but a draught of milk once a day, for many weeks. In order to amuse myself in this low state, I made a wooden clock, the frame of which was also of wood ; and it kept time pretty well. The bell on which the hannner struck the hours was the neck of a broken bottle. Having then no idea how any time-keeper could go but by a weight and a line, I won- dered how a watch could go in all positions, and was sorry that I had never thought of asking 3Ir Cantley, who could very easily have informed me. But happening one day to see a gentleman ride by my father's house, which was close by a public road, I asked him what o'clock it then ^vas : he looked at his watch, and told me. As he did that with so much good-nature, I begged of him to show me the inside of his watch ; and though he was an entire stranger, he immediately opened the watch, and put it into my hands. I saw the spring- box with part of the chain round it, and asked him what it was that made the box turn round ; he told me that it was turned round by a steel spring within it. Having then never seen any other spring than that of my fathex"'s gun- lock, I asked ho\v a spring within a box could turn the box so often round as to wind all the chain upon it. He answered that the spring was Ions: and thin, that one end of it was fastened to the axis of the box, and the other end to the inside of the box, that the axis was fixed, and the box was loose upon it. I told him I did not yet thoroughly understand the matter : — ' Well, my lad,' says he, * take a long thin piece of whalebone, hold one end of it fast between your finger and thumb, and \vind it round your finger, it will then endeavour to unwind itself; and if you fix the other end of it to the inside of a small hoop, and leave it to itself, it will turn the hoop round and round, and wind up a thread tied to the outside of the hoop.' — I thanked the gentleman, and told him that I understood the thing very well. I then tried to make a watch with wooden wheels, and made the spring of whaleljone ; but found that I could not make the watch go when the balance was put on, because the teeth of the wheels were rather too weak to bear the force of a spring sufficient to move the balance ; although the wheels would run fast enough when the balance was taken off. I enclosed the whole in a wooden case very little bigger than a breakfast tea-cup ; but a clumsy neighbour one day looking at my watch, hap- pened to let it fall, and turning hastily about to pick it up, set his foot upon it, and crushed it all to pieces ; which so provoked my father, that he was aluiost ready to beat the man, and discouraged me so much that I never attempted to make such another machine again, especially as I was thoroughly convinced I could never make one that would be of any real use. As soon as I was able to go abroad, I carried ray globe, clock, and copies of some other maps besides that of the world, to the late Sir James Dunbar ot Durn, about seven miles from where my father lived, as I had heard that Sir James was a very good-natured, friendly, inquisitive gentleman. He received me in a very kind manner, was pleased with what I showed him, and desired I would clean his clocks. This, for the first time, I attempted ; and then began to pick up some money in that way about the counti-y, making Sir James's house my home at his desire. Two large globular stones stood on the top of his gate ; on one of them I painted with oil coloui-s a map of the terrestrial globe, and on the other a map of the celestial, from a planisphere of the stars w !»ich I copied on paper fi-om a 296 JAMES FERGUSON. celestial globe belonginvhere I might have improved my knowledge by conversing with those who were very able to assist nie. I bagan to compare the ecliptic with its twelve signs, through Avliich the sun goes in twelve montiis, to the circle of twelve hours on the dial-plate of a watch, tiie hour-hand to the sun, and the minute hand to the moon, moving in the ecliptic, the one always overtaking the other at a place forwarder than it did at tiieir last conjunction before. On this, I contrived and finished a scheme on paper, for showing the motions and places of the sun and moon in the ecliptic on each day of the year, perpetually ; and consequently, the days of all the new and full moons. To this I wanted to add a method for showing the eclipses of the sun and moon ; of which I knew the cause long before, by having observed that the moon was for one Italf of her period on the north side of the ecliptic, and for the other half on the south. Jjut not having observed her course long enough among tiie stiirs by my above-mentioned thread, so as to delineate her path on my celestial map, in oixler to find the two opposite points of the ecliptic in which her orbit crosses it, I was altogether at a loss how and where in the ecliptic, in my scheme, to place these intersecting points : this was in the year 173y. At last, I recollected that when I was with 'squire Grant of Auchoynaney, in tiie year 1730, I had read, tliat on the 1st of January, 1(390, the moon's as- cending node ^^as in the 10th minute of the first degree of Aries ; and that lier nodes moved backward through the whole ecliptic in 18 years and 224 days, which was at the i-ate of 3 minutes 1 1 seconds every 24 houi-s. But as I scarce knew in tlie year 1730 what the moon's nodes meant, I took no farther notice of it at that time. However, in the year 1739, I set to work at Inverness; and after a tedious calculation of the slow motion of the nodes from .lanuary 1690, to January 1740, it appeared to me, tiiat (if I was sure I had remembcied right) the moon's ascending node must be in 23 degrees 25 minutes of Cancer at the beginning of the year 1740. And so I added the eclipse part to my scheme, and called it, the Astronoiiii(;;il l\otula. \\'heii 1 had finished it, I showed it to the Rev. Mr Alexander Macbean, one of the ministers at Inverness ; who tohl me he had a set of almanacs by him lor several years past, and would examine it by the eclipses mentioned in them. We examined it together, and found that it agreed throughout with the days of all the new and full moons and eclipses mentioned in these almanacs ; which made me tiiink 1 iiad constructed it upon true astronomical principles. On tliis, 31r IMacbean desired me to write to IMr Maclaurin, professor of mathe- maliis at Edinburgii, and give him an account of the methods by which I liad JAMES FERGUSON. 299 Ibrnicd my plan, requesting- liini to correct it where it was wrong. He rfctiiriied me n most polite and friendly answer, altlioiigh I had never seen him dtnini^ my stay at lulinburgh, and informed me, that 1 had only mistalten the radic^il mean place of tile ascending- node by a quarter of a degree ; and that if I would send the drawing of my rotula to him, lie would examine it, and endeavour to pro- cure me a subscription to defray the charges of engraving it on copper-plates, if I chose to publish it. I then made a new and correct drawing of it, and sent it to him : who soon cot me a very handsome subscription, by setting the exam- ple himself, and sending subscription papers to others. I then returned to Edinburgii, and had the rotula-plates engraved there by Sir Cooper.' It has gone through several inipi-essions ; and always sold very well till the year 1752, when the style was changed, which rendered it quite useless. IVIr IMaclaurin received me with the greatest civility when I first went to see him at Edinburgh. He then became an exceeding good friend to me, and continued so till his death. One day I requested him to show me his orrery, which he immediately did ; I was gi-eatly delighted with the motions of the earth and moon in it, and would gladly have seen the wheel-work, which \vas concealed in a brass box, and the box and planets above it wei-e surrounded by an arniillary sphere. But he told me, that he never had opened it ; and I could easily perceive that it could not be opened but by the hand of some ingenious clock-maker, and not without a great deal of time and trouble. After a good deal of thinking and calculation, I found that I could con- trive the w-lieel-work for turning the planets in such a machine, and giving theiu their progressive motions ; but should be very Avell satisfied if I could make an orrery to show the motions of the earth and moon, and of the sun round its axis. I then employed a turner to make me a sufficient number of wheels and axles, according to patterns which I gave him in drawing; and after having cut the teeth in the wheels by a knife, and put the whole together, I found that it answered all my expectations. It showed the sun's motion round its axis, the diurnal and annual motions of the earth on its inclined axis, ivhich kept its parallelism in its whole course round the sun ; the motions and phases of the moon, with the retrograde motion of the nodes of her orbit; and consequently, all the variety of seasons, the different lengths of days and nights, the days of the new and full moons, and eclipses. When it was all completed except the box that covers the wheels, I showed it to IMr 3Iaclaurin, who commended it in presence of a great many young gen tlemen who attended his lectures. He desired me to read them a lecture on it, which I did without any hesitation, seeing I had no reason to be afraid of speaking befoi*e a great and good man who was my friend. Soon after that, 1 sent it in a present to the reverend and ingenious IMr Alexander Irvine, one of the ministers at Elgin, in Scotland. I then made a smaller and neater orrery, of which all the wheels were of ivory, and 1 cut the teeth in them with a file. Ibis was done in the beginning of the year 1743 ; and in May, that year, I brought it with me to London, where it was soon after bought by Sir Dudley liider. I have made six orreries since that time, and there are not any two of them in which the wheel-work is alike, for I could never bear to copy one thing of that kind from another, be- cause I still saw there was great room for improvements. I had a lettei- of recommendition from Mr Baron Eldin at Edinburgh, to the right honourable Stephen Poyntz, Esq. at St James's, who had been precep- i Cooper was master to the justly celebrated Sir Kobert Strange, who \vas at that time liis iipprentice. 300 JAMES FERGUSON. tor to his royal hiifhness tlic late diikc of Cumberland, and was well known to bo possessed of all tlie i^ood fjiialities tbat <»in adorn a biinian mind. To me, his cfoodness was really beyond my poAver of expression ; and I bad not been a month in London till be informed me, tliat he bad written to an eminent profes- sor of mathematics to take me into bis bouse, and g'ive nie board and lodginjr, with all proper instructions to qualify me for teachin'r a mathematical school he (Mr Poyntz) had in view for me, and would t^et me settled in it. This I should have liked very well, especially as I began to be tired of drawing pictures ; in which, I confess, 1 never strove to excel, because my mind was still pursuing things more agreeable. lie soon after told nie, he had just received an answer from the niatbenuxtical master, desiring I might be sent immediately to bini. On bearing this, 1 told ^Ir Poyntz that 1 did not know how to maintain my wife during the time I must be under the master's tuition. What, says he, are you a married man ? I told him I bad been so ever since May, in the year 1739. He said he was sorry for it, because it quite defeated his scheme, as the master of the school he had in view for me must be a bachelor. He then asked me what business I intended to follow ? I answered, tbat I knew of none besides that of drawing pictures. On this he desii-ed me to draw the pictures of his lady and children, that he might show them, in order to re- conuucnd me to others ; and told me, that when I was out of business I should come to him, and he would find me as much as he could; and I soon found as much as I could cvecute, but he died in a few years after, to my inexpressible grief. Soon afterward, it appeai-ed to me, that although the moon goes round the earth, and that the sun is far on the outside of the moon's orbit, yet the moon's motion must be in a line, tbat is, always concave toward the sun ; and upon making a delineation representing her absolute path in the heavens, I found it to be really so. I then made a simple machine for delineating both her path and the earth's on a long paper laid on the floor. I carried the machine and delineation to the late 3Iartin Folkes, Esq. president of the royal society, on a Thiu-sday afternoon. He expressed great satisfaction at seeing it, as it Av.as a new discovery ; and took me that evening with him to the royal society, where I showed the delineation, and the method of doing it. When the business of the society was over, one of the members desired me to dine \\itli him next Saturday at Hackney, telling me that his name was lillicott, and that he Mas a watchmaker. I accordingly went to Hackney, and was kindly received by Mr John Ellicott, who then showed me the very same kind of delineation, and pai't of the machine by which he had done it ; telling me that be bad thought of it twenty years before. I could easily see by the colour of the paper, and of the ink lines upon it, that it must have been done many years before 1 saw it. He then told me what >vas very certain, tliat be had neither stolen the thought from me, nor had 1 from him. And from tbat time till bis death, IMr Ellicott WiiJ' one of my best friends. The figui-e of this machine and delineation is in the 7th plate of my book of Astronomy. Soon after tiie style was changed, I bad my rotula new engraved ; but have neglected it too much, by not fitting it up and advertising it. After this, 1 drew out a scheme, and liad it engraved, for siiowing all the problems of the rotula except the eclipses; and in place of that, it shows the times of rising and setting of the sun, moon, and stars ; and the positions of the stars for any time of the night. In the year 1747, I published a dissertation on the phenomena of the Har- vest iMoon, \\\[\i the description of a new orrery, in which there are only four JAMES FERGUSON. 301 wlieels. But haviii"^ never had grainniatical ctliicatioii, nor time to study tlie rules of just composition, I acknowledge that I was afraid to put it to the press ; and for the same cause I ought to have the same fears still. But liaving the pleasure to find that this my first work was not ill received, I Avas eniholdened to go on, in publishing my Astronomy, 3Iechanical Lectures, Tables and Tracts relative to several arts and sciences, the Young Gentleman and Lady's Astro- nomy, a small treatise on Electricity, and the following sheets. In the year 17 IS, I ventured to read lectures on the eclipse of the sun that fell on the 14th of July in that year. Afterw.ards I began to read astronomical lectures on an orrery which I made, and of Avhich the figures of all the wheel- work are contained in the Cth and 7th plates of this book-. I next began to make an apparatus for lectures on mechanics, and gradually increased the ap- paratus for other parts of experimental philosophy, buying from others what I could not make for myself, till 1 brought it to its present state. I then entirely left off drawing pictures, and employed myself in the much pleasanter business of reading lectures on mechanics, hydrostatics, hydraulics, pneumatics, electii- city, and astronomy ; in all which, my encouragement has been greater than I could have expected. The best machine I ever contrived is the eclipsareon, of which there is a figure in the 13th plate of my Astronomy. It shows the time, quantity, dura- tion, and progi-ess of solar eclipses, at all parts of the earth. My next best contrivance is the universal dialing cylinder, of which there is a figure in the 8th plate of the supplement to my IMechanical Lectures. It is now thirty years since I came to London, and during all that time I have met with the highest instances of friendship fi'om all ranks of people, both in town and country, which I do here acknowledge with the utmost respect and gratitude ; and particularly the goodness of our present gracious sovereign, who, out of his privy purse, allows me fifty pounds a year, which is regularly paid without any deduction." To Ibis narrative we shall add the few particulars which are necessary to complete the view of Ferguson's life and character.' Ferguson was honoured with the royal bounty, Avhich he himself mentions, through the mere zeal of king George III. in behalf of science. His majesty had attended some of the lectures of the ingenious astronomer, and often sent for him, after his accession, to converse upon scientific and curious topics. He had the extraordinary honour of being elected a member of the royal society, without paying either the initiatory or the annual fees, which were dispensed with in his case from a supposition of his being too poor to pay them Asithout inconvenience. From the same idea, many persons gave him very handsome presents. But to the astonishment of all who knew him, he died worth about six thousand pounds. " Ferguson," says Charles Hutton, in his Rlathematical Dictionai-y, " must be allowed to have been a very uncommon genius, especially in mechanical con- 1 The following is a succinct list of his published works: — ]. Astronomical Tiililes, and Precepts for oilculating the true times of New and Full i\Ioons, &c. 17C3. 2. Tables and Tracts relative to several arts and sciences, 1767. 3. An K-isy Introduction to Astronomy, for young gentlemen and ladies, 2iid edit. 1769. 4. Astronomy explained upon Sir Isaac Newton's Principles, 5th edit. 1772. 6. Lectures on select subject? in Mechanics, Hydrost;i- tics, Pneumatics and Optics, 4th edit. 1772. 6. Select Mechanical Exercises, with a short account of the life of the author, bv himself, 1773. 7. The Art of Drawing in Perspective .Made Easy, 1775. 8. An Introduction to Electricity, 1775. 9. Two Lt tters to the Rev. Mr John Kennedy, 1775. 10. A Third Letter to tlie" Rev. Mr John Kennedy, 1775. He communicated also several letters to the Royal Societ}', which are i)rinted in their Transjic- tions. In 1805, a very valuable edition of his lectures was piililislad at Kdinburgh by Dr Brewster, in 2 vols. Sv'o, with notes and an appendix, the whole adapted to the present state of the arts and sciences. 302 ROBERT FERGUSSON. trivnnccs and inventions, for he constructed many niacliines liiniself in a very neat manner. He liad also a good taste in astronomy, as ^vell as in natural and experimental jdiilosopliy, and «as possessed of a happy manner of explaining himself in a clear, e;isy, and familiar way. His •>eneral mathematical know- ledge, hoAvever, was little or noiliin;^. Of algebra he understood but little more than the notation ; and lie has ofien told me that lie could never denu)nstrate one proposition in Euclid's Elements ; his constant method being to satisfy him- self as to the truth of any problem, with a measurement by scale and compas- ses." He was a man of very clear judgment in any thing that he professed, and of unwearied application to study : benevolent, meek, and innocent in liis manners as a. child : hundjle, courteous, and communicative : instead of pedan- try, philosophy seemed to produce in him only diffidence and urbanity — a love for mankind and for his 31aker. His whole life was an example of resignation and christian piety. He might be called an enthusiast in his love of God, if I'eligion founded on such substantial and enlightened grounds as his was, could be like enthusiasm. After a long- and useful life, unhappy in his family con- nections, in a feeble and preciirious state of health, worn out with study, age, and infirmities, he died on the liJth of November, 1776. " Ferguson's only daughter," says IMr Nichols in his life of Bowyer, " was lost in a very singular manner, at about the age of eighteen. She was remai'k- able for the elegance of her person, the agTeeableness and vivacity of her con- versation, and ill philosophic genius and knowledge, worthy of such a father. His son, Mr Murdoch Ferguson, was a surgeon, and attempted to settle at Bury, staid but a little while, went to sea, was cast away, and lost his all, a little before his father's death, but found himself in no bad plight after that event. He had another son, who studied at 3Iarischal college, Aberdeen, from 1772 to 1777, and afterwards, it is believed, applied to physic." The astronomer has been thus elegantly noticed ia " Eudosia, a poem on the universe " by IMr Capel Lloft : " Nor shall thy guidance but conduct our feet, O honoured shepherd of our later dajs ! Thee, from the flocks, while thy untutored soul, JVIature in childhood, traced the starry course, Astronom) , enamoured, gentl}' led Thrcugh all the splendid lab3rinths of heaven, And taught thee her stupendous laws; and clothed In all the light of f;iir simplicity, Thy apt expression." FERGUSSON, IIobeht, an ingenious poet, like his successor Burns, drew his descent from the country north of the Forth. His father, William h'ergusson, after serving an apprenticeship to a tradesman in Aberdeen, and having married lOlizjibeth Forbes, by whom he had three children, removed, in 174G,to Edin- burgh, A\heru he was employed as a clerk by several masters in succession. It appears that the father of the poet had himself in early life courted the muses, and was at all periods remarkable as a man of taste and ingenuity. When acting as clerk to jMessrs \\'ardrop and Peat, upholsterers in ( arrubber's close, he framed a very useful book of rates ; nnd he eventually attained the respec- table situation of accountant to the British Linen Company, but whether in its ullimnte capacity of a bank has not been mentioned. I'revious to his arrival in j:diiibuigli, he had two sons and a daughter, born in the following order: Henry, 174-^; Baibara,' 1744; John (who seems to have died young), 174G. 1 Afterwards the wife of Mr David Inverarit), joiner. ROBERT FERGUSSON. 303 After removing thitlier, lie Iiad at least two other children, Kohert, born 1750, and .^largTiret," 1753. 'Hie sulijert of this memoir was born on the 17th of October,^ 1750, and was an exceedingly delicate child. Owing to liie state of his health, he Mas not sent to school till his sixth year, though it is likely that his parents gave him a good deal of private instruction before that time. What renders this the more j)robable is, that he had not been six months under his fii-st teacher, (a 3Ir riulj) in Niddry's Wynd,) when he was judged fit to be transferred to the high school, and entered in the first Latin class. Here he went through the usual classical course of four yeai-s, under a teacher named Gilchrist. What degi'ee of proficiency he might have attained under ordinary circumstances, it is impossible to determine ; but it is to be related to his credit, that, though frequently absent for a considerable period, in consequence of bad health, he nevertheless kept fully abreast of his companions, a temporary application being sutfioient to bring him up to any point wiiich the class had attained in his ab- sence. At the same time he acquired, in the leisure of confinement, a taste for genei-al reading, and it is stated that the Bible was his favourite book. A re- markable instance of the vivid impressions of which he was susceptible, occurred at an early period. In perusing the proverbs of Solomon, one passage struck his infant mind with peculiar force ; and hastening to his mothers apart- ment in tears, he besought her to chastise him. Surprised at a request so extra- ordinary, she inquired the cause of it, when he exclaimed — " O mother I he that spareth the rod, hateth the child!"' So ingenuous by nature was the mind of this boy, and such the pure source whence his youth drew instructions, which, disregarded but not forgotten amid the gayeties of a long course of dissipation, at last re-asserted in a fearful manner their influence over him. Fergusson finished his elementary education at the grammar school of Dun- dee, Avliich he attended for two years. His parents had resolved to educate him for the church ; and with that view removed him in his thirteenth year to the university of St Andrews, which he entered with the advantage of a bui-sai-y, endo\ved by a 3Ir Fergxisson, for the benefit of young men of the same nanie. Here his abilities recommended him to the notice of Dr Wilkie, author of the Epigoniad, then professor of natural philosophy, and it has even been said, that learned pei-son made choice of him to read his lectures to his class, when sick- ness or other causes prevented his own performance of the duty. Dr Irving ridicules the idea of a youth of sixteen " mounting," as he expresses it, " the professorial rostrum ;"' and besides the inadequacy of years, Fergusson possessed none of that gravity of demeanour which was calculated to secure the respectful attention of his compeei-s. His classical attair.mer.ts were respectable, but foi the austerer branches of scholastic and scientific knowledge he always ex- pressed, with the petulance of a youth of lively parts, who did not wish to be sub- jected to the labour of hard study, a decided contempt. Dr Wilkie's regards niust therefore have been attracted by other qualifications than those of the gi-aver and more solid cast — namely, by the sprightly lunnour and unconnnon powers of convei-sation, for which Fergusson was already in a remarkable de- gree distinguished. The story of his reading the lectures in public arose from his having been employed to transcribe them. Professor Vilant, in a letter to 3Ir Invei-arity on this subject, says, " A youthful frolicsome exhibition of your uncle fii-st directed Dr Wilkie's attention to him, and he afterwards employed 2 Afttn\7irds tJie wife of r\Tr Alexander Duval, purser in tlie navy. 3 Tiie date ii«uall\ given is 5;li September, whidi appt-ars, however, from a list by Mrs Duval, to have been tlie biitii-day of the elder sister, Barbara. The above is the date "given bv Mrs Duvid. 304 ROBERT FERGUSSON. Iiini one sunnuer and |iart of another in transcribing a fair copy of his acadonii* cal lectures." On the (loctor's dctli, in 1772, lergusson showed his gratitude in a poem dedicated to his memory. In this composition, which assumed the fonu of a Scottish ecloome, Wilkie's success as an agricultural impro\er was not forgotten. He had cultivateil, witli a very remarkable degiee of skill, a fanu in the vicinity of St Andrews ; and we must go back to the time when our fatliei-s were contented to i-aise small patches of stunted corn here and there, on the un- enclosed moor, in order to appreciate fully the enterprise A\hich merited the youtliful poet's compliment — Lang had tlie tliristlcs .Tiid tlie dockaiis betn In use to wTig tlicir taps upo' the greeji, AVluire now his bonny rigs delight the view, And iJiri\-ing hedges drink the caiiler dew. Among his fellow students, Fergusson was distinguished for rivacitv and hinuour, and his poetical talents soon beg-an to display themselves on subjects of local and occasional interest, in such a way as to attract the notice both of his companions and of their teachers. We are warranted in concludino-, that the pieces to which he o\ved this celebrity were distinguished by passages of no ordinary merit, for professoi-s are not a set of men upon whom it is easy to produce an impression. It is indeed said, that the youthful poet chose the ready instrument of sarcasm with which to move their calm collectedness : but if this ^\ere true, the satire nuist have been of a playful natui-e ; for, from all that lias ajipeared, these gentlemen manifested nothing but kindlv feelinj^s towards their pupil, and he a corresponding ariection and respect for them. Besides the tribute which he paid to the memory of Wilkie, he wrote an elesA* on the death of 3Ir Gregory, the professor of mathematics, in which, thouoh the prevailing tone is that of respectful regret, ^\e probably have an example of the length to which he ventured in his satirical eti'usions. Bewailinn- the loss that the scienlitic Avorld had sustained by the decease of this learned per- son, and enumerating various instances of his sagacity, he savs, with irrepressi- ble waggery, By numbers, too, he could divine That three times three just made up nine ; But now he's dead ! Anotlier eftusion, of which tlie occasion may be referred to the time of Fer- gusson"s attendance at college, is his elegy on John Hog'ilant," says this document, " professor of mathematics, the only person now in the university, who was then a member of it, declares, that in the year 17{i7, as he recollects, at the first institution of the prizes given by the carl of Kinnoul, late chancellor of this univci-sity, there was a nieeting one night, at"ter the determination of the prizes for that year, of the winner's in one room of the united college, and a meeting of the losere in another room at a small distance ; that in consequence of some c^onmiunication between the win- ners and the losers, a scutlle arose, Avhich was reported to the masters of the col- lege, and that Robert Fergusson and some others w ho had appeared the most ac- tive were expelled ; but that the next day, or the day thereafter, they were all re- ceived back into the college upon promises of good behaviour for the future. ' Dr Willvie's intercessions wore exerted on this occasion in behalf of the poet; nor ai"e we to suppose that the cordial co-operation of others was wanting, lor Mr Inveracity assures us, that in I\Ir Vilant, Fergusson had found a friend and judicious director of his studies. On the whole, this transaction altbrds a proof, that Fergusson, whatever might be his indiscretions, had not, by refractory or disrespectful conduct, rendered himself obnoxious to the heads of the university, since, had that been the case, it is to be presumed, they would have availed them- selves of this infraction of academical discipline to make good his expulsion. If, therefore, the first aspirations of his muse were employed in satirical effusions against his instructors, it must have been witii an absence of all bitterness, and in a vein of pleasantry which was not meant to be, and did not prove oli'ensive. Of the progress made by Fergusson in his studies, we have no means of form- ing a very exact estimate. " He pertbrmed," says Ur Irving, " with a sufiicient share of applause, the various exercises which the rules of his college prescribed." Yet, it is acknowledged that he found more pleasure in the active sports of youth, and in soc-ial enjoyment, than in habits of recluse study. His time, however, does not seem to have been spent without some plans of more serious applica- tion. A book which belonged to him, entitled, " A Defence of the cliia-ch go- vernment, faith, woi"ship, and spirit of the presbyterians," is pi'eserved ; the blank leaves of this volume were devoted by him to the somewliat incongruous purpose of receiving scraps of speet^bes, evidently the germs of a play which he medi- tated writing. Another dramatic scheme of his, assumed a more decided shape ; he finished two acts of a tragedy, founded on the achievements and fate of Sir William Wallace, but abandoned the undertaking, having seen another play on the same subject, and being afraid that his own might be considered a plagiarism. Probably both productions were of a common place des(Tiption ; and the poet, perceiving the llatness of that of which he was not the author, and conscious of the similarity of Ids own, relinquished an undertaking to which his abilities cer- tainly were not equal. It has been observed, that the choice of the subject af- fords an evidence of Fergusson's judgment ; inasmuch as the fate of the illustrious Scottish hero, together with his disinterested patriotism and bravery, supply a much more eligible theme for the tragiivd muse, than the deaths of Blacbeth, Hichard 111., I'izarro, or any other tyrant of ancient or modern times, whose ca- tastrophes, being nothing more than the vengeance due to their crimes, cannot ROBERT FERGUSSON. 307 excite those sympathetic feelings tliat arise only from tlie contemplation of guf- ferin-j virtue. This would be very justly said, if it were true that the success of a (Irauiatic author depends upon his enlisting tlie approbation of the audience in behalf of his hero, ilut the case is widely dirterent. A view of human nature under the inthience of some powerful emotion, with which mankind, in general, are not familiar, seems to be what is mainly retpiired. All men are not acquaint- ed with the working-s of an ambitious and wicked heart ; and hence, when the tyrant is exhibited before them, they learn something that is new and surprising, and the skill of the poet meets with its proportionate meed of applause. But there are few, indeed, who have not considered from their youtli up, the charac- ter of a gi-eat patriot like Wallace; their aduiiration and pity have been bestow- ed upon him from their tenderest yeai-s, and there is nothing left for poetry to ertect. Nor was the genius of Fergusson fitted for tlie delineation of a majestic character. He had a fund of humour, an agi-eeable gayety, but not much reach of passion or of feeling. In his ilnglish blank verses, there is no stately flow nor elevation of sentiment. His mind, moreover, did not possess strength suf- ficient to accomplish more than can be done in a series of occasional verses ; he had not as much resolution to carry him through the succession of eflbrts neces- sary for the completion of a dramatic poem ; and on the whole, we see no occa- sion either for surprise or regret, that he never perfected his third act. What were the reasons for Fergusson abandoning his academical career, is no- where mentioned. l'rol)ably he had no gi-eat heart to the profession to which he had been destined, and \vas prevented by want of pecuniary means, from pur- suing his studies with a view to any other. When the term of his l)ursary ex- pired, which was at the end of four years, he quilted St Andrews, and returned to Edinburgh, to his mother's house, his fatlier having died two years before. Here, if iiis prospects were not gloomy, his plans were unsettled, and never took any decided aim for his settlement in life. The profession of a teacher has been resorted to by many >v1jo have acquired some learning, but whose narrow cir- cumstances did not allow them to aspire to more pleasant and profitable employ- ments ; and, even after qualifying themselves for superior offices, numbers of young men, failing to obtain tlie reward of their labours, fall back upon that humbler means of obtaining a subsistence. But for the patient duties of a schooluuister, Fergusson's ardent temperament completely disqualified him ; and probably, he never thought of the alternative. The study of medi(;ine was sug- gested to him; but this was no less distasteful, for, to such vivid nervous excite- ment was he liable, that he could not read the description of a disease, without imagining that his oavu frame felt its symptoms. After some time spent in vain hope that some opening would present itself, he paid a visit to 3Ir John Forbes, a maternal uncle, near Aberdeen, who, being in easy circumstances, was expected to do something for his nephew. Tliat gen- tleman, according to the usual account, entertained him for some time, hoping, perhaps, that after a reasonable stay, such as the hospitality of an uncle's roof might warrant, he would take his leave and give him no farther trouble. But time slipt on, and Fergusson still continued his guesL At last, the habiliments of the dependent relative began to grow somewhat shabby, and an intinuition was conveyed to him, that he was no longer fit to appear at 3Ir Forbes's table. The indignant poet immediately retired to an ale-house in the neighbourhood, where he penned a letter full of resentment of the usage he liad received. This remonstrance produced some little ellect, for his uncle sent him, by a messenger, a few<>hillings, to bear his charges to Edinburgh. He performed the journey on foot, and returned to his mother's house so woi-n out with fatigue, and over- whelmed with mortification, that he fell into a serious illness. In a few days his 308 ROBERT FERGUSSON. strength of body revived, and he regained sufficient composure of mind to express his vexation in a j>oem, entitled, '' Ihe Decay of Friendsliip,'' and liis grounds for piiilosophic resignation in anotlier, " Against Repining at Fortune." These pieces exhibit some tiueiicy of versilication, but do not brealiie any poetic iire. In tlie lirst, he bewails the ingratitude of man, and according to ancient usage, determines to resort to some solitary shore, there to disclose his griefs to the nmr- nmring surge, and teach the hollow caverns to resound liis \voes. In the second, he declares, that he was able to contemplate the gorgeous vanity of state with a cool disdiiin, and al'ter reasoning the matter on the inadequacy of wealth to pro- cure liiippiness, concludes that virtue is the sacred source of permanent and heart- felt satisfaction, — a fact, the truth of which is so very generally acknowledged, that the statement and elucidation of it is no longer considered to constitute poetry. The behaviour of 3Ir Forbes in the matter just related, has been reprobated as ungenerous in the extreme. But it see>ins questionable, whether the censure be merited in its full extent. Every man is, no doubt, bound to assist his fel- low-men, and more particularly those who are connected with his own family, or have other claims to his patronage, as far as lies in his power. But it is difficult to fix the limits to Mhich his exertions ought, in any particular case, to be carried. It may seem very clear to every one at the present day, that Fergusson was a man of genius, and ought to have been promoted to some office which might have vonferred independence, at the same time that it left him leisure for the cultiva- tion of his literary talents. This was, however, by no means so apparent at the period to which we refer, nor, perhaps, at any future pei'iod dui'ing the poet's lifetime. He presented himself in his uncle's house an expectant of favour ; but his expectations might not, to any ordinary-minded person, appear very i-ea- sonable. He was a young man that had addicted himself to the profitless occu- pation of rhyming; (who could tell he was to render himself eminent by it?) he could not submit his mind to conmion business, and had aversions that did not appear to rest on very feasible foundations, to certain employments which were proposed to him : and when we consider to how close a scrutiny, it is reasona- ble that those who solicit patronage should be prepared to submit, it does not seem wondeiful that he should have been regarded as a young man who was dis- posed to renuiin idle, and that his friends should have been discouraged from using their influence in belialf of one who did not seem willing to do what he could for himself. We know few of the circumstances that took place during Fergusson's residence with his uncle, and it is unjust to deal out reproaches so nmch at ran- dom. Some time after his return to Edinburgh, Fergusson obtained euiployment as a copyist of legal papers, in the office of the connuissary clerk of Edinburgh ; a situation misei-ably inferior to his talents, but which his straitened circumstances and his total want of an aim in life, compelled him to accej)!. AVith the ex- ception of some months devoted to similar duties at tlie Sherifi'-clerk's office, he spent, in this humble employment, the remainder of his brief and ladiappy life. The change from the one office to the other seems to have been dict^ited purely by tliat desire of an alternation of misery, which caused the soldier who sufi'ered under tlagellation to cry first " strike high," and then " strike low." Having experienced some trouble from the fretful temper of the deputy connuissary clerk, jMr Abercromby, under whom he performed his drudgery, he sought re- lief in the other office; but finding worse evils there, in the painful nature of tl>e sherirt''s duties as an enlbrcer of executions, he speedily solicited re-ad- niission to Ins former place, and was glad to obtain it. It is generally sup- posed that Fergusson's employment involved the study of law, and that in that lay tho unpleasantness of his situation. But in reality, the study of law, allo\v- ROBERT FERGUSSON. 309 ing it to be as dry as several of Ferousson's biograpliers have represented it, and as unsuitable as they have supposed to the uiercuriiil genius of a poet, uould have been absolutely a daily delight of the highest kind, compared to the mo- notonous duties of perpetual transcription, whicli formed in reality the extent of tlie poet's professional labours. This wretclied drudgery, however, was relieved in two ways. Fergusson, during the wliole period of liis residence in Edinburgh, as a clerk, or copyist, wrote more or less poetry almost every day. At the same time, he spent a part of almost every evening in those convivial regalements, with wliicii the citizens of Edinbui-gh of all classes were tlien accustomed to solace themselves after the drudgery of the day. The mind of the poet was partly directed to English classical models : he wrote pastorals and dialogues, in the manner of Pope, Shenstone, and Somer- ville ; but these are mere exhibitions of language, totally uninspired by the least force or originality of ideas, and would now weary even the most patient antiquary in the perusal. Fortunately, he also adventured upon the course lately left vacant by Hamsay, and there found themes for wliich his genius was better adapted. The humours and peculiarities of social life in the ancient city of Edinburgh attracted his attention, and became in his hands the materials of various specimens of Scottish poetry, which far surpassed the similar poems of Kamsay, and are but little inferior to those of Burns. In his " Leith Races," " the Kising and Sitting of the Session, " Cauler Oysters," and " the King's birth day," there is a power of humourous description which at once stamps him as a poet of superior genius, even if the nervous sense of his '* Braid Claith," " Cauler Water," and other poems upon general subjects, and the homely grace of his " Farmer's Ingle," which describes in the most vivid and gen- uine colours, a scene worthy of the highest efforts of the muse, had not placed him still more unequivocally in that rank. The language employed by Fergusson is much more purely Scottish than that of Burns, and he uses it with a readiness and ease in the highest degree pleasing. He has not the firm and vigorous tone of Burns, but more softness and polish, such as might liave been expected from his gentler, and perhaps more instructed mind. The poet chiefly wrote these elTusions for a periodical work, entitled Ruddiman's Weekly Blagazine, where they attracted a considerable share of public attention, not only in Edin- burgh but throughout the country. The convivialities of Fergusson have been generally described as bordering on excess, and as characterizing himself in particular, amidst a population gene- rally sober. The real truth is, that the poor poet indulged exactly in the same way, and in general to the same extent, as other young men of that day. The want of public amusements, the less general taste for reading, and the limited acconnuodations of private houses in those days, led partly to a practice, which, as already mentioned, prevailed among all orders of people in Edin- burgh, of frequenting taverns in the evening, for the sake of relaxation and ex- ercise of the intellect The favourite haunt of Robert Fergusson, and many other persons of his own standing, was Lucky Middlemass's tavern in the Cow- gate, which he celebrates in his poem on Cauler Oysters. One of the individ- uals, who almost nightly enjoyed his company there, communicated to the present writer, in 1827, the following particulars respecting the extent and nature of their convivialities. " The entertainment almost invariably consisted of a few boards of raw oysters, porter, gin, and occasionally a rizzared [dried] haddock, which was neitlier more nor less than wliat formed the evening enjoyments of most of the citizens of Edinburgli. The best gin was then sold at about five shillings a 310 KOBERT FERGUSSON. eallon, and accordinsjly the gill at Lucky M idtllemass's cost only threepence. The whole debauch of the young men seldom came to more than sixpence or sevenpence. 3Ir S distinctly recolle<-ts tliat Fergusson always seemed unwilling to spend any more. They generally met at eight o'clock, and rose to depait at ten ; but Fergusson was sometimes prevailed upon to outsit his friends, by other persons who came in later, and, for the sake of his company, intreated him to join tlieni in further potations. The humour of his conversa- tion, which was in itself the highest treat, frequently turned upon the odd and obnoxious character who then abounded in the town. In the case, however, of the latter, he never permitted his satire to become in the least rancorous. He generally contented himself with conceiving them in ludicrous or awkward situations, such, for instance, as their going home at night, and hanng their clothes bleached by an impure ablution from the gaiTcts — a very common oc- currence at that time, and the mention of which was sufficient to awaken the sympathies of all present.'' The personal appearance of the poet is thus described by the same infor- mant. " In stature Fergusson was about five feet nine, slender and hand- some. His face never exhibited the least trace of red, but was perfectly and uniformly pale, or rather yellow. He had all the appearance of a person in delicate health ; and 3Ir S remembers tliat, at last, he could not eat raw oysters, but was compelled by the weakness of liis stomach, to ask for them pickled. His forehead was elevated, and his whole countenance open and pleasing. He wore his own fair brown hair, with a long massive curl along each side of the head, and terminating in a queue, di-essed with a black silk riband. His dress was never vei*y good, but often much faded, and the wliite thread stockings, which he generally wore in preference to the more common kind of grey woi-sted, he often permitted to become considerably soiled before changing them.'' The following anecdote has been related for the purpose of showing the irk- someness of the poet under his usual avocations. In copying out the extract of a deed, one forenoon, he blundered it two ditl'erent times, and was at length obliged to abandon the task with