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 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
n 
 
OUK EXEMPLARS, 
 
 POOR AND RICH; 
 
 OR, 
 
 WHO HAVE, BY AN EXTRAORDINARY USE OF THEIR OPPORTUNITIES. 
 BENEFITED THEIR FELLOW-CREATURES. 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 MATTHEW DAVENPORT*' HILL, 
 
 RECORDER OF BIRMINGHAM. 
 
 WITH A PREFACE 
 
 LORD BROUGHAM. 
 
 LONDON: 
 CASSELL, PETTER, AND GALPIN- 
 
 1861. 
 
 [The Right of Translation is Reserved.] 
 
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 PRINTED Br PETTER AND GALPIN, 
 LA BELLE SAUVAGE YARD, LDDGATE HILL, LONDON, E.C. 
 
 
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 CONTENTS. 
 
 ♦ 
 
 Page 
 
 Peeface vii 
 
 Appendix to the Peeface xv 
 
 'Ihe Eael of Shaftesbuey 1 
 
 xques Jasmin 33 
 
 OHN BlTNYAN 59 
 
 ' he King of Poetugal 88 
 
 . ridget Bueke 95 
 
 Sistee Nathalie. 109 
 
 RosaGovebno Ill 
 
 Teancoise Caysac 112 
 
 Louisa Scheplee 113 
 
 Cheistophee Thomson 116 
 
 William and Eobeet Chambebs 147 
 
 Joseph Tuckeeman, D.D 152 
 
 Pathee Mathew 158 
 
 The Veey PcEV. De. Speatt ,. 196 
 
 De. John Thomson, PJt.S., L. & E 202 
 
 Habbiet Ryan 209 
 
 Captain Maconochie, E.N., K.H 213 
 
 Cathebine Wilkinson 242 
 
 John Smeaton 253 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 feedeeic auguste demetz 260 
 
 The Yicomte Beetigniebes de Coueteilles 265 
 
 Paul Louis Yeediee 271 
 
 Saeah P. Remond 276 
 
 John Plummee , 287 
 
 Saeah Maettn 297 
 
 Sie Eowland Hill, K.C.B., F.R.S 308 
 
 Sie Jamsetjee Jejeebhoy, Baet 326 
 
 Lady Noel Byeon 338 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 At a gathering of Mechanics' Institutions, held at 
 Accrington, in November last, over which I was 
 called upon to preside, it was suggested by Lord 
 Stanley that a biographical w T ork of great interest 
 might be written, describing the rise and progress to 
 wealth and eminence of men who, by the exercise of 
 their own powers of mind and body, have risen from 
 the humbler classes. When offering this excellent 
 suggestion, Lord Stanley was probably not aware 
 that our literature already possessed books written 
 with a nearly similar object, and I referred to one 
 of the earliest — and, perhaps, more widely diffused 
 than any of its successors — u The Pursuit of 
 Knowledge under Difficulties." It was published 
 more than thirty years ago, under the auspices of 
 the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge, 
 and was written by Professor Craik, now of Queen's 
 College, Belfast. In this admirable work, too well 
 known to need any description, the object steadily 
 kept in view by the author is not, indeed, the attain- 
 ment of rank, wealth, or fame, but the acquisition of 
 knowledge ; and, chiefly, the acquisition of knowledge 
 by such as have to encounter the difficulties of self- 
 
Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 education. Yet, incidentally, this collection of me- 
 moirs and anecdotes shows, that the pursuit of 
 knowledge carries many of its votaries to the heights 
 of worldly fortune, and it therefore supplies, to a 
 certain extent, the want indicated by Lord Stanley ; 
 while, on the other hand, it points to a nobler object 
 of ambition than mere prosperity, in the ordinary 
 sense, however honestly attained. 
 
 Within a few weeks after the meeting in Lanca- 
 shire, there appeared another excellent work, under 
 the title of " Self- Help," which, treating generally of 
 self-advancement, and not being confined to any par- 
 ticular track, realised, perhaps, more completely than 
 the work of Professor Craik, the conception of Lord 
 Stanley. 
 
 Nothing can be more worthy of praise than the 
 learned industry with which the author, Dr. Smiles, 
 has collected his almost innumerable instances of suc- 
 cess due to self-efforts, or the pleasing manner in 
 which he has displayed them to the reader. It is, 
 however, to be regretted that, in his dissertations — 
 which are generally brief, and always apposite — he 
 now and then promulgates opinions of questionable 
 soundness. Upon one of these instances I am the 
 more disposed to remark, because Dr. Smiles follows 
 in a track in which some writers of eminence have 
 been walking of late. " Solid subjects," he says, 
 u are eschewed, and books demanding application and 
 study lie upon book-shelves unread" (p. 268). And 
 
 
PREFACE. IX 
 
 this he attributes to the multiplication of books and 
 newspapers by means of steam-engines and printing- 
 machines, which, he thinks, tends rather towards 
 superficial acquirements than to depth or vigour of 
 thinking. u For," he continues, u while readers are 
 tempted, by the multitude of books, to skim many 
 subjects, they may thereby be so distracted by the 
 variety as to be induced to bottom none of them 
 thoroughly" (p. 266). It cannot be denied that 
 plenty has its temptations, from which we should 
 be protected by famine ; but here, as everywhere 
 else, we must look to the balance of advantage and 
 disadvantage. If printing-machines are criminal, 
 what is to acquit the printing-press ? Indeed, I 
 believe, the art of writing itself has been of late 
 somewhat called in question for relieving the 
 memory, to such an extent as to weaken, by com- 
 parative disuse, that noble faculty. 
 
 The Editor of this volume has written a state- 
 ment in answer to the portion of Dr. Smiles's 
 work which I have cited, and it entirely meets 
 my view of the subject; I therefore add it as an 
 appendix to the Preface. 
 
 But the exceptions which cajn fairly be made to 
 " Self-Help" on this and one or two other grounds, 
 are as nothing compared to the value of the work ; 
 moreover, the thirty years which have elapsed since 
 the first appearance of the " Pursuit of Knowledge 
 under Difficulties," have been rich in instances of 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 self-raised men, and of these Dr. Smiles has not been 
 slow to avail himself. 
 
 Notices of self-made women, however, are rare 
 in his book — an omission which is disappointing, and 
 which assuredly does not arise from any scarcity of 
 materials. 
 
 Professor Craik added a supplementary volume to 
 his work, consisting entirely of female examples. 
 For some reason unknown to me, his last edition is 
 deprived of this volume — a void which* makes the 
 " Lives of Distinguished Women," appearing from 
 month to month in the " English Woman's Journal," 
 all the more acceptable. 
 
 Other works are springing up, which the limits 
 of a Preface do not allow me to enumerate. I would, 
 however, especially note the various memoirs of 
 deserving persons of humble origin, which are 
 scattered through the publications of the Brothers 
 Chambers; and also the series called " Self-made 
 Men," in " CasselPs Family Paper." Lastly, I would 
 invite attention to that invaluable repertory of 
 memoirs, Knight's " Biographical Cyclopaedia," their 
 obligations to which I am requested by the authors of 
 this volume to acknowledge. 
 
 The present work was suggested by the discussion 
 at the Accrington meeting, although, as the reader is 
 already aware from the title-page, it diverges consi- 
 derably from the object then held up to view. It 
 seeks to combine Professor Craik's principle, of keep- 
 
PREFACE. XI 
 
 ing the reader's mind directed to one final purpose, 
 with the advantage obtained by furnishing him with 
 memoirs of sufficient detail to establish an acquaint- 
 ance, as it were, between himself and each individual 
 subject of biographical notice ; and thus to engage 
 more completely the sympathies of the student with 
 the toils, the disappointments, the triumphs, the suf- 
 ferings, and the rewards of the person whose example 
 is set before him. In accordance with the title 
 selected, the biographical sketches illustrate by facts 
 the ability which all, in every rank, possess of adding 
 to the stock of human happiness. The authors have 
 aimed at showing that neither the temptations which 
 beset rank, power, and wealth, nor the hindrances 
 interposed by poverty, ignorance, infirmity, and even 
 disease, are sufficient to prevent man or woman, 
 desirous of doing good, from compassing that great 
 object. In their selection of examples, they have 
 necessarily been under the control of circumstances ; 
 many persons of both sexes, whose histories would 
 have adorned this collection, have been excluded be- 
 cause their lives are already familiar to the public. 
 Of others, the authors were not able to procure in- 
 formation in sufficient detail Xo furnish interesting 
 notices. 
 
 And there is yet another class, the omission of 
 which is matter of regret to them, shared by myself. 
 In deference to the wishes of persons whose memoirs 
 would naturally be expected to enrich the work, the 
 
Xll PREFACE, 
 
 authors have felt bound to abstain from placing them 
 among " Our Exemplars ; " although no lives more 
 worthy to be known could have been inserted. Two 
 individuals of this class must be pointed to, Mary 
 Carpenter and Charles Knight. Fortunately, their 
 labours are too well known, by their duration and 
 their success, for the prohibition imposed to deprive 
 the world of the benefit to be derived from their 
 example. 
 
 Every publisher, too, by a self-denying ordinance, 
 must be excluded from a place in a book which he 
 brings before the world ; otherwise a striking instance 
 would have been afforded of early difficulties honour- 
 ably overcome, and of later opportunities for good well 
 employed, in the life of John Cassell. 
 
 After this explanation, the authors will not be for 
 a moment supposed to have undertaken the invidious, 
 and, they desire to add, presumptuous task of select- 
 ing the subjects of these memoirs, amid the number- 
 less individuals whose merits command attention, 
 according to any imagined precedence of those taken 
 over those left in a field in which a plenteous harvest 
 remains to be reaped by other labourers. For it may 
 be remarked that in Professor Craik's work, and also 
 to a certain degree in the present volume, persons of 
 eminence have been chosen — persons distinguished 
 from others, generally from all others — for some 
 peculiarity either in talents, acquirements, or suc- 
 cess ; but, as will be seen by the reader, there 
 
PREFACE. Xlll 
 
 is much to be learnt from the history of t those 
 who have neither gained any renown, nor attained 
 brilliant position, nor even displayed rare capacity ; 
 and the record of their inferior merits and humbler 
 fortunes is both a useful lesson to others, and a 
 benefit to society. But this work does not attempt to 
 fill up the blank left by former writers ; and an account 
 would be both interesting and useful of individuals 
 who, by their honest industry, exerting talents of an 
 ordinary description, have raised themselves from a 
 lowly station, contending with great difficulties 
 of various kinds, till they reached the station of 
 wealthy citizens, or landowners, or successful mem- 
 ber of the learned professions ; although their lives 
 presented none of the circumstances which raise our 
 wonder in the biography of the Luthers, the Calvins, 
 the Lauds, the Tillotsons, the Watts, the Arkwrights, 
 the Cooks, the Drakes, the Olives, the Havelocks, the 
 Scotts (brothers), the Scheeles, and the Davys. The 
 power of persevering industry, uniting itself with 
 virtuous dispositions, to exalt ordinary capacity to a 
 high position, deserves to be illustrated by numerous 
 examples ; for these hold out prospects of success to 
 many more than can ever think of the lofty eminence 
 to which the rare gifts of genius claim an exclusive 
 right. 
 
 Brougham, October, 1860. 
 
\ 
 
APPENDIX TO THE PREFACE. 
 
 That many will trifle over novels and newspapers, instead 
 of more vigorously employing their faculties on difficult 
 works, may readily be admitted. But what cannot so 
 easily be conceded is, that frivolous minds, if deprived of 
 light reading, would forthwith plunge into profound 
 study. The trivium and the barber's shop devoured the 
 time of the quidnunc in former days, just as the news- 
 paper does now ; exercising his mind less, and furnishing 
 it with nutriment far inferior, whether as relates to sub- 
 ject, extent, or accuracy; while the ignorant Oriental, 
 who has no novel to read, and who, if he had one, could 
 not read it, spends his hours in smoking his pipe, and 
 listening to his oral novelist, the story-teller. Many a 
 hard student has in his youth exhausted *whole circu- 
 lating libraries, until satiety and the development of 
 higher powers have forced him to desist. But he has 
 carried away with him an acquaintance with the language 
 of books, a facility of perusal, and the invaluable habit of 
 reading. These are no mean qualifications for attempting 
 loftier pursuits. We are, therefore, not in the least 
 surprised at the statement of Mr. Brown, of Liverpool, 
 who, speaking of the Free Libraries, for which he has 
 
XVI APPENDIX TO THE PREFACE. 
 
 just built, at his own cost, a palatial edifice, says, " It is 
 pleasing to observe that the class of books called for is 
 becoming of a higher standard." * 
 
 John Plummer's testimony at p. 292 of this little 
 work may be set against the speculations of Dr. Smiles. 
 But the Doctor himself may be cited in refutation of 
 his own argument, which he pushes to the extent of 
 threatening us and our posterity with the gradual decay 
 of moral and mental energy. Yet the diffusion of popular 
 literature in this country has not been the work of a 
 day. It has wonderfully increased, no doubt, within the 
 last few years; but England has always stood at the 
 head of this department of letters, and Dr. Smiles himself 
 shall announce the results. " One of our most dis- 
 tinguished writers," he says, "has, it is true, lamented 
 the decay of that strength of individual character which 
 has been the glory of the English nation ; yet, if we 
 mistake not, no age in our history so little justifies such 
 a lament as the present. Never did sudden calamity 
 more severely test the individual pluck, endurance, and 
 energy of a people, than did the recent outbreak of the 
 rebellion in India ; but it only served to bring out 
 the unflinching self-reliance and dormant heroism of 
 the English race " (p. 21). And he thus continues: — 
 " Equally brilliant instances of individual force of cha- 
 racter are also to be found in more peaceful and scientific 
 walks. Is there not Livingstone, with a heroism greater 
 than that of Xavier, penetrating the wilds of South 
 Africa on his mission of Christian civilisation ; Layard, 
 labouring for years to disinter the remains of the buried 
 city of Babylon ; Rawlinson, the decipherer of their 
 
 * The Times, October 19, 1860. 
 
APPENDIX TO THE PREFACE. XVll 
 
 cuneiform inscriptions ; Brooke, establishing a nucleus of 
 European enterprise and colonisation among the piratical 
 tribes of the Indian Ocean ; Franklin, Maclure, Collin son, 
 and others, cleaving their way through storms, and ice, 
 and darkness, to solve the problem of the north-west 
 passage 1 — enterprises, which, for individual daring, self- 
 denial, energy, and heroism, are unsurpassed by those of 
 any age or country " (p. 22). 
 
 It might also be wished that the accomplished author 
 of "Self- Help" had remembered that he was writing 
 mainly for the instruction and delight of classes who 
 have not had the advantage of a* regular education, 
 although they may be in possession of what is, perhaps, on 
 the whole, a greater advantage — education self-obtained. 
 Now the self-educated man, not having been admitted 
 into what may be called the freemasonry of the schools, 
 but having conducted his studies in solitude and in his 
 own way, is not prepared for indirect allusions to books 
 which, however well known by students who have passed 
 through Eton and Oxford, have formed no part of his 
 curriculum ; not that it is at all to be desired that an 
 author addressing himself to working men and women 
 athirst for knowledge, should adopt the notion that he 
 must write down to his readers. He must remember 
 that he has to deal with vigorous minds, disciplined 
 by the encounters incident to poverty, over which they 
 have, to a great extent, been victorious. 
 
 Such readers will not be discouraged by difficulties in 
 the matter of a book, if there be not superadded those of 
 an allusive style. Even hard words, although on every 
 ground they ought to be avoided, where not essential to 
 accuracy of meaning, will not form an obstacle of im- 
 portance to the earnest student, because he knows that, 
 
APPENDIX TO THE PREFACE. 
 
 by reference to a dictionary, he shall find their explana- 
 tion. What is to be avoided is, that habit of slight and 
 oblique indication of books not specified, which affords no 
 clue to the inquirer. 
 
 Since this work w£nt through the press, one of " Our Exemplars" 
 has passed from among us. Captain Maconochie died on Thursday, 
 October 25th. 
 
 His health had long been failing, when, in the spring of the 
 present year, very shortly after his kindness had supplied us with 
 the autobiographic sketch which appears in these pages, signs of 
 rapid decay became apparent. His strength declined from week 
 to week, and periods of acute suffering indicated tbe alarming 
 progress of disease. In the month of August an access of his 
 -malady caused his relatives to be summoned to his bed-side, and 
 each hour he expected would prove his last. Soothed by the tender 
 solicitude of those dearest to him — patient and even cheerful under 
 his afflictions— he seemed tranquilly to prepare for the approaching 
 change, as for a long journey. 
 
 But a favourable crisis arrived, and early in September he had 
 so far rallied as to create a hope that he might yet be spared to his 
 family and friends — a hope not to be realised ! 
 
 November. 1860. 
 
OUK EXEMPLARS. 
 
 THE EARL OF SHAFTESBURY. 
 
 We commence this little volume with a sketch of the life 
 of one who would not generally be reckoned among self- 
 raised men. Nevertheless, if we regard the many temp- 
 tations conducing to habits of indolence and exclusiveness 
 that are incident to his rank ; the fastidious reluctance 
 that he might have felt to come into close contact with 
 people whose tastes and manners would be alien to his 
 own; the high position he now holds; the deep feelings 
 of respect with which he is regarded by all classes; and 
 the benefits he has rendered to his fellow-creatures, espe- 
 cially such as were, either by poverty, ignorance, or their 
 tender years, unable to help themselves, we must at once 
 assign him an eminent place among those who have dis- 
 tinguished themselves by acts of self-denying charity, 
 performed under pressure of the most adverse circum- 
 stances. We speak of Anthony Ashley Cooper, Earl of 
 Shaftesbury. 
 
 Lord Shaftesbury, who by courtesy enjoyed the title 
 of Lord Ashley until the death of his father made him 
 legally a peer, was born in April, 1801. He received his 
 education at Harrow, and Christchurch, Oxford, where he 
 took honours in 1822, and graduated B.A. In 1830 he 
 married Emily, daughter of the Earl Cowper. He had 
 entered Parliament as member for Woodstock in 1826, 
 and he held several appointments in succession under 
 
 B 
 
A OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 various ministries, rising gradually in estimation as a 
 man of energy and benevolent purposes. 
 
 In 1833, Lord Ashley first turned his attention to the 
 condition of women and children employed in factories. 
 At that period the labour of operatives was excessive, 
 and greatly overtaxed their strength, while the hours 
 being very long, allowed of no time either for the women 
 to perform their household duties, or for the children to 
 receive instruction. In this year a Bill was passed 
 through the exertions of Lord Ashley, limiting the labour 
 of children under thirteen years of age to eight hours per 
 day, and providing that such children should attend school 
 (for two hours daily), and should receive a certificate of 
 attendance, without which no child should be allowed to 
 work in the factory. Employment of children under 
 nine years of age in factories was entirely prohibited. 
 The provisions of this Act were, however, found insuffi- 
 cient to restrain the abuses to which the poor factory 
 workers were exposed, and a Bill to amend it was 
 introduced by Mr. Sadler. At his death, which occurred 
 shortly afterwards, Lord Ashley became the leader of 
 this reform. The Bill provided that the employment of 
 women and children in factories should not exceed ten 
 hours daily, and that of these the children should spend 
 three in receiving instruction from a competent school- 
 master, or that they should work in the factory on alter- 
 nate days, spending an equal time in the school-room. 
 Upon the stringency of these, the educational clauses, 
 great care was bestowed, the provisions of the prior 
 measure in this respect having been shown by Lord 
 Ashley to be very imperfectly carried into effect. 
 
 " In more than one instance it had happened (he said) that 
 children were found at school, absolutely in the coal-hole [of the 
 
THE EARL OF SHAFTESBURY. 6 
 
 factory], aud the stoker imparted instruction as he was engaged in 
 poking the fire. A book was sent to him the other day quite black, 
 and so rotten, that it went to pieces in his hands, and yet that had 
 been one of the standard books of the school for the last two years. 
 In very many cases the schoolmaster and schoolmistress were 
 unable to sign their names to the certificate in which it was stated 
 that the child under their tuition had enjoyed two hours a day of 
 moral and religious instruction."* 
 
 Many were the objections raised against the Bill. 
 Some maintained that any restriction of labour whatso- 
 ever was pernicious ; that, if this course were pursued, 
 our foreign trade, then in a critical state, would be anni- 
 hilated; that parents ought to be at liberty to choose 
 whether they w T ould give their children an education or 
 not ; and that the promoters of the measure were claim- 
 ing twelve hours' wages for ten hours' labour. This 
 latter argument Lord Ashley refuted by proving that 
 wages were regulated by the amount of work performed, 
 and not by time. The others are now known to be 
 equally futile. Many years were spent in a seemingly 
 hopeless struggle, but Lord Ashley did not despair, and 
 at length, in 1844, the celebrated Ten Hours' Bill was 
 passed. This measure, however, did not effect all the 
 good aimed at by its benevolent promoter. It left a 
 range of seventeen hours (from 5 a.m. to 10 p.m.), from 
 which the ten hours for labour might be chosen — an 
 arrangement, as it proved, creative of much abuse \ and 
 it soon became evident that the Act must be amended. 
 Lord Ashley resumed his post. In 1846, he presented 
 petitions from various places in Scotland in favour of a 
 restrictive measure, and brought forward evidence to 
 prove that, in several manufactories where the hours 
 had been reduced from twelve to eleven, the wages, mean- 
 
 * Hansard, 1843, vol. Ixvii., p. 1165. 
 
 b2 
 
4 OUK EXEMPLARS. 
 
 while, remaining the same, the profits had been equal to 
 what they were in former times, while the social con- 
 dition of the operatives was greatly improved ; also, that, 
 in Bradford, one manufacturer had tried the ten hours' 
 plan for all the hands, with eminent success. The next 
 year he carried a Bill through both Houses, limiting 
 the period for work between 6 a.m. and 6 p.m., includ- 
 ing two hours for meals; the provision which secured 
 the attendance at school of operatives under 13 years of 
 age remaining unaltered. Thus Lord Ashley beheld 
 the long-delayed fulfilment of his hopes. Comparatively 
 short as the experience of their working has been, the 
 Acts have already produced results of the most healthful 
 kind. 
 
 " Evils that were dreaded have not been realised, and advan- 
 tages of a kind that could hardly be anticipated have accrued. 
 Employers have not had to complain of a deficiency of labour — 
 at least from the operation of these Acts, and parents are now 
 frequently found expressing their acknowledgments of the advan- 
 tages afforded by the school to their children." 
 
 Further on the same writer (Mr. Wilks) says : — 
 
 " Among the benefits resulting from the operation of the 
 clauses under consideration, may be mentioned the fact, that, 
 among large employers of factory labour, they have constituted a 
 basis for educational action, and one incentive to it. Not a few 
 instances might be adduced of noble generosity on the part of such 
 in the erection of schools, the support of efficient teachers, and the 
 introduction of various appliances for the instruction of their 
 workpeople. The attention drawn to the subject by these enact- 
 ments has gradually issued in these generous and enlightened 
 efforts, which are now extending beyond the prescribed class and 
 age, while the factory schools are some of them taking rank with 
 the best of their class, in the several districts in which they are 
 situated. One of the indirect, but highly beneficial, results of 
 these efforts is that a legitimate occasion is furnished for that 
 
THE EARL OF SHAFTESBURY. O 
 
 union between the classes of society, and a means of developing 
 that mutual interest which really exists between the employed and 
 the employer."* 
 
 We take the following extract from the Report of 
 the Inspector of Factories for 1859 : — 
 
 " I think I can show that the Factory Acts have put an end to 
 the premature decrepitude of the former long-hour workers ; that 
 they have enlarged their social and intellectual privileges ; that by 
 making them masters of their own time, they have given them a 
 moral energy, which is directing them to the eventual possession 
 of political power, and that they have lifted them high in the scale 
 of rational beings, compared with that which they had attained in 
 1833. Moreover, I think I can further prove, that all this has 
 been accomplished without any prejudice whatever to our com- 
 mercial prosperity, as it was asserted there would be ; that wages 
 have not been diminished ; and that the rude and violent immo- 
 rality which it was predicted would necessarily be provoked by a 
 freedom inconsistent with factory labour, in its connection with 
 the cost of machinery and of material, has not in any case been 
 manifested." f 
 
 Mr. Akroyd, M.P., states that when the operatives 
 had once become convinced of the evils of over-work, 
 they strongly advocated the measure through its pro- 
 tracted struggle ; and " thus," he says, " the Factory Acts 
 were passed by the strenuous support of the factory 
 operatives themselves." J He relates, also, this pleasing 
 consequence, that "those mill-owners who most actively 
 opposed the Ten Hours' Bill have observed with pleasure 
 its good fruits, in the improved health and morals of the 
 
 * Transactions of the Association for the Promotion of Social Science, 
 Bradford Meeting. London : Parker and Son. 1859. 
 
 t Report of Inspector of Factories. 1860. 
 
 X ( On Factory Education, and its Extension,' a Paper read at 
 the Meeting of the Association for the Promotion of Social Science. 
 1857. 
 
D OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 factory population." Ampler testimony need not be 
 sought to the beneficent effects of the measure, which, 
 by indomitable perseverance, Lord Ashley succeeded in 
 carrying through Parliament against the strongest oppo- 
 sition. 
 
 Lord Ashley had been solicited to take office on Sir 
 Robert Peel's return to power in 1841 ; but as Sir Robert 
 refused to support the Ten Hours' Bill, his invitation was 
 not accepted. 
 
 During the time that Lord Ashley was urgfhg the 
 consideration of this measure upon the House of Com- 
 mons, he was very active in promoting another Bill for 
 the better regulation of labour in collieries. In moving 
 for leave to bring in the Bill for prohibiting the employ- 
 ment of women and children in mines (1842), Lord 
 Ashley adduced a mass of evidence proving the horrors 
 of the existing system. He showed that from five years 
 old and upwards children were commonly employed. Near 
 Oldham they went into the mines at four years old, and 
 some so young that they were brought to their work, one 
 might almost say, from their cradles ; in South Wales it 
 was not unusual to take them into the pits at the same early 
 age — many being absolutely carried to their work. In 
 Ireland, however, none were employed under thirteen, 
 nor any female of any age. " I have often, sir," said the 
 noble lord, " admired the generosity and warm-heartedness 
 of the Irish people ; and I must say, that if this is to be 
 taken as a specimen of their barbarism, I would not 
 exchange it for all the refinement and polish of the most 
 civilised nations of the globe." The work performed in- 
 volved dragging on all-fours small carts, laden with coal ; 
 a chain attached to the cart passed between the legs, and 
 was fastened to a girdle worn round the waist. Thus 
 
THE EARL OF SHAFTESBURY. 7 
 
 creeping, the unfortunate labourers " have to pass through 
 avenues not so good as a common sewer, quite as wet, and 
 oftentimes more contracted. This kind of labour they 
 have to continue during several hours, in a temperature 
 described as perfectly intolerable." One little girl was 
 found " only six years old, carrying [drawing] half a hun- 
 dred weight, and making regularly fourteen long journeys 
 a-day." The weight drawn by the elder children, fellow- 
 colliers with this infant, varied from one to one and a half 
 hundred weight ; while the height ascended exceeded in 
 each journey the height of St. Paul's Cathedral. Elder 
 girls and grown-up women worked in the same way, their 
 only garment being a pair of drawers, while men worked in 
 their presence absolutely naked ! Youths of both sexes, 
 in some mines, worked together naked. The effect upon 
 the physical health was such that the collier began to 
 decline in vigour between twenty and thirty, while scro- 
 fula and deformity were common among the children, 
 notwithstanding that the comparatively high wages 
 gave them the command of good food. Women suffered 
 still more severely in health, while their moral state was 
 deplorable ! 
 
 "In the male (says Lord Ashley) the moral effects of the system 
 are very sad, but in the female they are infinitely worse, not alone 
 upon themselves, but upon their families, upon society, and I may 
 add, upon the country itself. It is bad enough if you corrupt the 
 man; but if you corrupt the woman, you poison the waters of life 
 at the very fountain." 
 
 This horrible state of things, which we can hardly 
 conceive to have existed in England in the nineteenth 
 century, when brought under public notice, instantly 
 excited the greatest abhorrence ; and the Bill to abolish 
 it for ever rapidly passed through Parliament. 
 
OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 By this act the employment of females at all in mines, 
 and that of males under ten years of age, was prohibited ; 
 and inspectors of mines and collieries were appointed. 
 So great and sudden a change brought at first want and 
 even destitution into many families, and especially upon 
 widows with young children to support, who had relied 
 upon employment in mines for their maintenance."* 
 
 But happily this proved to be only a temporary conse- 
 quence. When in 1843 a member of Parliament moved 
 for leave to bring in a Bill to amend the " Mines and 
 Collieries Act," stating the hardships imposed upon 
 women by excluding them from the mines, and impugn- 
 ing much of the testimony adduced in support of the 
 measure, Lord Ashley answered the objections by a 
 great amount of evidence, showing that male weavers 
 in want of work had supplied the place of females 
 withdrawn from the mines ; that the latter were 
 gradually being engaged for domestic service, that the 
 coal-mining districts were improving in morality, and 
 that the parents of girls were grateful for their rescue 
 from the degrading influence of the collieries. The 
 motion was lost. 
 
 Hardly was this work of benevolence completed, when 
 Lord Ashley turned his attention to the sad condition of 
 lunatics. In 1844, he brought forward a motion for 
 an address to the Crown, to consider the report of the 
 Metropolitan Commissioners in Lunacy to the Lord 
 Chancellor. From this report he showed that the pri- 
 vate lunatic asylums in the country were scenes of fear- 
 ful abuse ; that the county asylums had accommodation 
 for only one-fourth of the pauper lunatics needing con- 
 finement; and that some of even these establishments 
 * Report of the Inspector of PrisoDS for Scotland, 1846. 
 
THE EARL OF SHAFTESBURY. 9 
 
 were quite unfit for use. In treating of mental aber- 
 ration : — 
 
 "No more frequent cause of insanity existed (he said) than 
 was found in intoxication ; the number of persons who were con- 
 fined in lunatic asylums, and whose insanity originated in drunken- 
 ness, was very great, and would surprise any person who was not 
 aware of the effects of this habit. In a majority of cases, a few 
 days' curative treatment produced a cure ; but then, the patient 
 relapsing into former habits, became again insane, and under- 
 went a series of repeated cures and repeated relapses. In many 
 instances, such persons, if set at liberty, endangered not only their 
 own lives, but those of others : this was one of the most difficult 
 points to adjudicate. He had frequently urged upon the House, 
 and especially in his motion upon education, the frightful conse- 
 quences of inebriety — a habit fostered among the people, as much 
 by the system of things we permitted, and the temptations to 
 which we permitted them to be exposed, as by their own ten- 
 dencies." * 
 
 He then urged the importance of the early treat- 
 ment of lunacy, and stated that the permanent cures of 
 patients dealt with during the first three months are at 
 least seventy per cent. Miss Dix, an American lady, 
 who devotes her life to ameliorating the sufferings of the 
 insane, and has thoroughly investigated their condition 
 and mode of treatment, both in her own land and in 
 most of the countries of Europe, states' that the average 
 number of cures in cases taken within the same period — 
 three months — may be raised to ninety per cent. 
 
 In the course of the debate upon Lord Ashley's 
 motion, Mr. Sheil said : — 
 
 "There was a sort ot'sursum corda' [up hearts!] about his 
 labours, and whatever difference of opinion they might entertain on 
 some of the noble lord's new crotchets, on one point they all con- 
 curred — that he was worthy of the highest praise for the motives 
 
 * Hansard, vol. lxxvi., p. 1267. 
 
10 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 by which he was actuated, and the sentiments by which he was 
 inspired. It was more than gratifying to see a man of his high rank, 
 not descending, but stooping down from his position — not permit- 
 ting himself to be lowered by the pursuits of pleasure or ambition, 
 but seeking the nobler gratification of doing good, and the virtuous 
 celebrity with which his labours were rewarded. It may be truly 
 stated that the noble lord had added nobility even to the name of 
 Ashley, and that he has made humanity one of c Shaftesbury's 
 Characteristics. 5 "* 
 
 Lord Ashley eventually withdrew his motion, assured 
 that the House would give attention to the subject. 
 
 On June 6, 1845, Lord Ashley, in an eloquent speech, 
 introduced two Bills, to repeal many existing Acts 
 respecting the treatment of lunatics in England and 
 Wales : — 
 
 " I wish (he said) that circumstances enabled me to extend the 
 Bills to Ireland and Scotland ; for I believe that not in any country 
 in Europe, nor in any part of America, is there any place in which 
 pauper lunatics are in such a suffering and degraded state as those 
 in her Majesty's kingdom of Scotland."f 
 
 In connection with the better treatment of lunatics, 
 promoted by Lord Shaftesbury, we may mention an inter- 
 esting experiment made at the great Asylum in Lanca- 
 shire. Insane patients of a (mentally) superior class have 
 there been employed to take care of those whose minds 
 are weak; the latter become to the former objects of deep 
 and healthful interest ; the assiduity and tenderness with 
 which they perform their office materially adds to the 
 happiness of their charges, while the intense mutual 
 affection, which springs up between the guardian and 
 ward, exercises a beneficial influence upon the mental con- 
 dition of both. M. Bost, the founder of the Protestant 
 
 N * Hansard, vol. lxxvi., p. 1257. The allusion of Mr. Sheil is to the 
 celebrated work of one of his lordship's ancestors, 
 f Hansard, vol. lxxxi., p. 180. 
 
 
THE EARL OF SHAFTESBURY. 11 
 
 Institution of Laforce, in the south of France, has tried 
 a very similar experiment, with the signal success of 
 which he states Lord Shaftesbury to have been much 
 impressed. Among the numerous objects of his bene- 
 volent care at Laforce, are idiots, and also persons 
 afflicted with incurable bodily disease, including blind- 
 ness ; and the peculiarity in his method of treating these 
 various cases consists — instead of separating one class 
 from another — in placing them in association, and render- 
 ing them reciprocally helpful. The idiots, after some 
 preparation, make excellent nurses, unsurpassed for self- 
 devotion and gentleness ; and his practice is to assign 
 one, in this capacity, to each invalid, who, in return, 
 strives to draw forth and cultivate what germs of moral 
 and intellectual power the poor idiot may possess — few, 
 if any, being found utterly incapable of mental improve- 
 ment. By this happy arrangement the idiot is brought 
 into constant and affectionate intercourse with a sound 
 mind, while to the invalid is given the blessed privilege 
 of usefulness — genial influences which greatly ameliorate 
 the lot of both. 
 
 In 1846, the date of the Corn Law agitation, Lord 
 Ashley, finding that his views, which were in favour of 
 repeal, did not coincide with those of his constituents, 
 resigned his seat for Dorsetshire, and was soon after 
 elected member for Bath. 
 
 Having procured the triumph of the Ten Hours' Bill, 
 and provided for the education of the factory children, 
 Lord Ashley turned his attention to the no less important 
 subject of Bagged Schools; with which his name has ever 
 since been associated, as one of their untiring advocates 
 and strenuous supporters. Feeling how difficult it was 
 to procure employment for the children of this destitute 
 
12 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 class, and to preserve them from the temptations to which 
 they are peculiarly liable, he was anxious that as many 
 as possible should emigrate to the colonies, and in June, 
 1848, made a motion to the effect that a fund should be 
 created for their voluntary emigration. This motion was 
 withdrawn, on the understanding that a measure similar 
 in principle, but differing somewhat in detail, would be 
 favoured by the Government. A small sum, however, 
 was granted, with which seven boys and two girls were 
 sent out to Moreton Bay in November, 1848. An emi- 
 grant lad, in joy and gratitude, shortly before embarking, 
 exclaimed : — 
 
 " Now, if ever I should be possessed of a farm, it shall be called 
 ' Lord Ashley's Farm/ I shall never forget the ragged schools ; 
 for if it had not been for this ragged school, instead of going to 
 Australia with a good character, I would have been sent to some 
 other colony loaded with chains." # 
 
 But all were not alike eager and grateful. Many among 
 the parents and the children entertained a strong suspicion 
 that this was some new species of slavery. They impli- 
 citly believed the rumour that was abroad of Lord Ashley 
 receiving £10 a-head for every young " Arab of the city" 
 he could inveigle into his clutches ; and that it was a plan 
 for reducing their numbers, by sinking the ship when 
 it was fairly out at sea ! 
 
 Again, in 1849, Lord Ashley moved for a grant from 
 Government for the same purpose, but without effect. 
 Great expectations had been raised among the poor ragged 
 school boys by this motion, and an affecting scene took 
 place the morning after its withdrawal. 
 
 * We cite here, and subsequently in this memoir, from the * Ragged 
 School Union Magazine,' a periodical affording information upon efforts 
 to promote the welfare of the lower classes which we have not met with 
 in any other work. 
 
 
THE EARL OF SHAFTESBURY. 13 
 
 " Had some of these deserving lads, on the evening in question, 
 been allowed to tell their own tale in the House of Commons, of 
 their fruitless efforts, their patient endurance, and their anxiety to 
 do well, they would have shown themselves entitled to greater 
 sympathy than the world is inclined to believe. 
 
 "Early on the following morning numbers hastened to the 
 coffee-shops, and eagerly searched the newspapers, to see whether 
 their noble benefactor and representative had been successful. 
 Others ran to their school-fellows, inquiring whether they had 
 obtained any intelligence. One poor lad, on discovering the result, 
 exclaimed, c Our hopes are all up now — Lord Ashley has lost his 
 motion.' The sad account was speedily communicated from one to 
 another. Their hopes were crushed by the closing up of what 
 seamed to them the only avenue to respectability and usefulness. 
 Similar feelings were entertained by many of their teachers and 
 friends, who had also encouraged a faint hope that at least some 
 assistance might be rendered by Her Majesty's Government for the 
 promotion of a scheme fraught with so many important and bene- 
 ficial results." 
 
 Lord Ashley, at the fifth annual meeting of the 
 Ragged School Union, in May, 1849, admirably combated 
 the argument which persons, who, being either unsettled 
 in their opinions on this subject, or desirous of relieving 
 themselves of all responsibility in their disregard of it, 
 advance, when they ask whether more harm than good is 
 not done by, as they say, neglecting the honest and 
 industrious, while stretching forth a helping hand to 
 those who, by idleness and crime, have brought them- 
 selves to poverty and destitution? This argument has 
 not only been urged upon the consideration of Bagged 
 School managers, but upon that of all who have endeav- 
 oured, by means of Reformatories, Prisoners' Aid Societies, 
 and other institutions of like character, to restore the 
 criminal to an honest course of life. We may shortly 
 answer that, if those objectors are persuaded of the supe- 
 
14 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 rior claims of this or that branch of social improvement, 
 let them select their field of action, and then imitate the 
 example of Lord Shaftesbury in devoting their whole 
 energies to the work they have undertaken. 
 
 In the speech we have referred to, he said : — 
 
 "Our means are limited, and we must, necessarily, take that 
 class which is the most in need of our friendly assistance. More- 
 over, I ask those who are conversant with the various conditions 
 of society, whether the work in which we are engaged, although 
 directly beneficial to the ragged children, is not indirectly, but 
 most efficiently, beneficial to the class immediately above them ? 
 Is it not the fact, that all the temptations, and difficulties, and 
 snares to which the children of that class are exposed, arise almost 
 entirely from the existence of this vagrant class, poisoning the 
 moral atmosphere, and holding out every temptation, plundering 
 their property, causing confusion in society, and making it in 
 certain districts almost perilous for respectable parents to allow 
 their children of tender years to go from their doors without 
 some superintending companion ? I maintain that by improving 
 the basis of society you greatly improve the whole superstructure; 
 and it is on this account that I repudiate the argument that is 
 used against these schools. I call upon you not to forget the 
 class above them, but to wait until you have the means of directing 
 your energies to their assistance." 
 
 Lord Ashley's views have been fully corroborated by 
 experience. The withdrawal of vagrant and criminal 
 children from the streets is a blessing highly prized by 
 the parents of the class just above them in the social 
 scale, and only separated, as Lord Ashley says, by a hair's 
 breadth from those "apt seducers to evil ways." An 
 industrial school, at Aberdeen, was established chiefly 
 through the exertions of Sheriff Watson, to which the 
 wealthy inhabitants contributed about £150 in the year 
 1845, while the sums collected from the working classes 
 in the same city amounted to £250. 
 
THE EARL OF SHAFTESBURY. 15 
 
 " One very important fact was elicited by this exertion on the 
 part of the labouring classes. Some of them, living near the school, 
 were asked, c Why do you take so great an interest in this school, 
 and contribute so liberally to its support, when it is not for the 
 use of your own children ? ' The reply was, f Before this school 
 was opened we were afraid to trust our children a moment out of 
 doors alone ; they were exposed to learn, and did learn, all manner 
 of mischief; but now this school has cleared the streets of the little 
 vagabonds who corrupted them. We are not now afraid to let 
 them out, and therefore we support the school/ No better or 
 more important testimony could be given, and it ought never to 
 be lost sight of by the supporters and promoters of industrial 
 schools ; it is an unanswerable argument in their favour."* 
 
 The present Dean of Ely gives similar testimony, 
 founded upon his own experience ;t and another writer 
 upon this subject justly remarks that education is the 
 only eleemosynary gift which elevates those on whom it 
 is bestowed, and the only one that lasts and lives and 
 bears fruit in the years to come ; and that the benefit of 
 our industrial schools will be better known twenty years 
 hence than to-day — both in the decrease of crime, and 
 vice, and idleness in our city lanes, and of paupers in our 
 workhouses. J 
 
 In 1851, upon the death of his father, Lord Ashley 
 succeeded to the estates and title of the earldom of 
 Shaftesbury. 
 
 " Meanwhile, as Lord Ashley, he had acquired a remarkable 
 amount of popularity and influence in what is commonly known 
 as ' the religious world/ by his earnest advocacy in Parliament and 
 in public meetings, of the views of the ( evangelical party ' in the 
 Church of England, and his untiring support of almost every 
 society and every movement which had for its object the extension 
 
 * ' Social Evils : their Cause and Cure.' Alexander Thomson, 1852. 
 f Macmillan's Magazine,' May, 1860. 
 'Friend of the People,' June 23rd, 1860. 
 
16 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 of Protestant doctrine, the amelioration of the condition of the 
 suffering and neglected classes, or the reformation of the erring, 
 without regard to sect or party. This influence he has, as Earl of 
 Shaftesbury, extended and strengthened, and his position has been 
 not inaptly compared with that formerly held by Mr. Wilber- 
 force." * 
 
 Lord Shaftesbury presided at a meeting of the dele- 
 gates from the Ragged School Union, in December, 1852, 
 to oppose the opening of the Crystal Palace on the 
 Sunday. Whatever difference of opinion may exist on 
 this subject, we are assured, from our knowledge of his 
 Lordship's character, that his motive for opposition was a 
 sincere desire to prevent evil. 
 
 We have already spoken of the emigration of seven 
 boys and two girls from the ragged schools; we now 
 give the result of the experiment. 
 
 In 1848 the "Artemisia" had conveyed them to 
 Moreton Bay, on the eastern coast of Australia. Upon 
 the whole they seem to have done well, and five years 
 afterwards Lord Shaftesbury received the following letter 
 from Mr. Cooper (a religious instructor to convicts on 
 ship-board), who, having returned from Australia, wrote 
 as follows : — 
 
 " 13th October, 1853. 
 
 " My Loed, — I beg most respectfully to inform you that I have 
 recently returned from Melbourne, Port Philip, and during my 
 stay at that port I saw one of the boys sent out by your lordship 
 in the ' Artemisia, 5 who intrusted to my care a small ( nugget ' of 
 gold, requesting me at the same time to hand it to yourself, and 
 that you would dispose of it in any way you might think best for 
 the benefit of others like himself, and to assure your lordship that 
 you were his best and only friend. Some accounts which I received 
 
 * 'English Cyclopaedia.' 
 
THE EARL OF SHAFTESBURY. 17 
 
 there of other boys from the schools are also very highly satisfac- 
 tory and encouraging to your lordship." 
 
 In December, 1853, Lord Shaftesbury was present at 
 the second Conference, held at Birmingham on the sub- 
 ject of juvenile delinquency, and in one of his speeches 
 he mentions this pleasing anecdote, speaking of one of 
 the same lads : — 
 
 " He has now become a landed proprietor, and possesses a con- 
 siderable flock of sheep ; and he writes home to the master of the 
 school to say that he intends to select the two best rams he can 
 find, and to call the one f Counsellor Payne/ and the other ' Lord 
 Ashley. 5 I can assure you that I shall value that testimony as a 
 proof of gratitude, more than I should a statue in Hyde Park." 
 
 Since the discovery of gold in the Australian colonies 
 it has been thought more desirable for the ragged school 
 children to emigrate to Canada, which has therefore been 
 the destination of all subsequently dispatched. 
 
 The Field Lane Ragged Schools, situated in one of 
 the worst districts of London, are very numerously 
 attended, and have had the benefit of the personal super- 
 vision of Lord Shaftesbury, perhaps from the circum- 
 stance that his attention was first attracted to ragged 
 schools by an advertisement of this institution. In 
 1854 he presided at a meeting, convened to distribute 
 prizes to young persons from these schools, who had 
 " remained in one situation for more than twelve months 
 with satisfaction to their employers." His speech, to 
 the whole of which we would refer the reader, is 
 characteristic : — § 
 
 " Depend upon it," he said, " if you were to become the greatest 
 men and women the world ever knew, you cannot go beyond that 
 point of honour — to close your lives, having done your duty in 
 that state of life to which it has pleased God to call you. Many of 
 
 c 
 
18 OUK EXEMPLARS. 
 
 you may have an honourable ambition to rise higher in the scale 
 of society, and I hope and trust in God that it may be so, for I do 
 not think there is anything more honourable in a free country 
 such as this, tend such as that on the other side of the Atlantic, 
 than to see a person in humble circumstances attain to the highest 
 position in the state, or in the church, or in commercial life, or in 
 any department of industrial pursuit, having raised himself by his 
 own honest exertions, by noble and Christian ambition, step by 
 step, in a faultless line of conduct, till he has gone from the very 
 lowest point to the very highest to which he can possibly attain^ 
 That I conceive to be a just, a reasonable, and a Christian object of 
 hope ; and I earnestly beseech you to have before you that great 
 end, never being ashamed, but on the contrary rejoicing from what 
 you have sprung, when you contrast what you were with what you 
 have become. I hope you will see this in the course which it has 
 pleased God to open unto you, having always a just and moderated 
 eye to the things of this world, but having before your eyes the 
 great and final consummation, that you may be citizens of thai 
 city whose maker and builder is God." 
 
 Each prize card was accompanied by the sum of ten 
 shillings. 
 
 Lord Shaftesbury knew that it was not by the attempt 
 to improve their intellectual and moral nature alone, that 
 real and permanent good could be effected among these 
 neglected children, and he has therefore laboured zealously 
 to amend their physical condition also. 
 
 On November 8th, 1854, in connection with the 
 " Society for Improving the Condition of the Labour- 
 ing Poor," he summoned an out-door meeting of the 
 friends of the movement, to judge for themselves of the 
 state of Wild Court, Great Wild Street, Drury Lane, 
 which was to be forthwith cleansed and renovated. The 
 amount of filth, including animal and vegetable refuse, 
 and a layer of living vermin, forming a solid mass three 
 or four inches deep, which had to be removed, almost 
 
 : 
 
THE EARL OF SHAFTESBURY. 19 
 
 surpasses belief. It is necessary we should give these 
 details, revolting though they be, that we may convey 
 some idea of what Lord Shaftesbury and those who have 
 worked with him in his benevolent designs have under- 
 gone, while witnessing themselves the evils it was their 
 desire to remedy. 
 
 Od the 6th of August, 1 855, he summoned a ^second 
 meeting in the court, that the changes effected might be 
 witnessed. The tenements were now clean, ventilated, 
 and provided with every appliance requisite for the 
 decency and comfort of their numerous occupiers and 
 inmates. The Society have extended their opera- 
 tions elsewhere while great encouragement is given 
 in the ragged schools, by instruction in the means of 
 economising materials, and in rendering the dwellings of 
 the poor wholesome, to perpetuate the improved con- 
 dition of these habitations. 
 
 Lord Shaftesbury is thoroughly cognisant of the sound 
 sense and strong purpose for good of the working classes 
 of England, when they have once apprehended the right 
 course to pursue. At a meeting to inaugurate new 
 buildings, to which a ragged school at Sheffield was about 
 to be removed, he thus addressed his audience : — 
 
 " You have only to show any people on earth, but the working 
 classes of England in particular, as I know from long experience — 
 you have only to show them that you have their interests at heart, 
 and that you desire but to do them real good, and show them 
 respect, and I will undertake to govern the kingdom of England 
 with my little finger." 
 
 In the course of the same speech he described what 
 the character of a ragged school master should be : — 
 
 " The master must be a very peculiar man. My belief is, that 
 the master of a ragged school must be a man of the very highest 
 order. I do not say that he must be conversant with astronomy. 
 
 c2 
 
20 ( OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 . I do not mean to say that if a Government inspector 
 
 came down he would be able to stand before him for two minutes. 
 
 But that master must have a knowledge of human nature : he 
 
 must have benevolence, judgment, discretion ; he must have great 
 
 zeal — very great zeal ; his heart must be in his work. The work 
 
 must be his meat and drink ; it must be almost his life's blood. If 
 
 it be not so, depend upon it he never deals as he ought with the 
 
 children of a ragged school. Perhaps the children of Sheffield 
 
 may not be precisely of the class I am going to describe. But 
 
 I can assure you that in London the children are remarkably 
 
 wild, and in the outset, violent. They are wonderfully acute — 
 
 more acute than any children to be found in any other part of 
 
 England. I have heard prison inspectors say, and seen it myself, 
 
 that the acuteness of the metropolitan child is something painful. 
 
 It is painful, because it is a disease, precocious, unnatural. The 
 
 children are worked upon by the detestable atmosphere in which 
 
 they live, until their nervous systems are brought into a high 
 
 degree of excitement and precocity. This shows what kind of 
 
 children we have to deal with. Not long ago a ragged school was 
 
 opened in a new district. The teachers went down, not expecting 
 
 what happened. The boys in the locality around thought it a 
 
 famous opportunity for indulging in mischief, or, as they considered 
 
 it, a lark, and were determined to give the teachers what they 
 
 called c a dose.' "When my friend, Mr. Payne, arrived an hour or 
 
 so after the time at which the school was to have opened, he found 
 
 only one or two lamps burning, all the windows broken, two of the 
 
 teachers outside covered with mud from head to foot, while in the 
 
 school the master was lying on his back, with six boys sitting upon 
 
 him, singing c Pop goes the weasel ' (loud laughter). Now I want 
 
 to show you that teachers there must be of no common order. 
 
 They endured this with patience ; they did not call in the police ; 
 
 they resorted to no violence ; they remonstrated with the lads, and 
 
 went away. They returned on the second night, and there was a 
 
 little of the same treatment, but not so much. On the third night 
 
 there was scarcely any; and on the fourth night the children 
 
 flocked in, and all was orderly : and depend upon it that the 
 
 very boys who had sung ( Pop goes the weasel ' on the prostrate 
 
 master, would be amongst the best boys and monitors in the 
 
 school." 
 
THE EARL OF SHAFTESBURY. 21 
 
 ■ 
 
 Scenes of this kind are by no means confined to 
 London, and the experience of provincial ragged schools 
 ainjriy confirms Lord Shaftesbury's opinion of the quali- 
 ties essential in the conductors of such institutions. 
 
 In 1858, ten years after the " Artemisia " had sailed, 
 a lady, in dress and manners, called at the mansion of 
 the Earl of Shaftesbury. His lordship was from home, 
 and she left her card. It appears that she had just re- 
 turned from Australia, whither she had gone at the end of 
 the year 18-48 ; she was, in fact, one of the thirteen 
 emigrants sent out by the assistance of the Ragged School 
 Union, of which the noble earl, then Lord Ashley, was 
 president. She had gradually progressed, and had be- 
 come the wife of a respectable tradesman, with whom she 
 was then passing through London on her way to America, 
 and had called to thank his lordship for the kindness 
 shown to her on former occasions. 
 
 This gratifying circumstance induced Lord Shaftes- 
 bury to urge upon the committee of the Girls' Refuge, 
 Broad- street, St. Giles's, the propriety of sending out 
 suitably trained pupils. Ten girls were selected, and 
 dispatched to Canada, under the care of a matron. Pre- 
 vious to their departure, a farewell meeting was held 
 (July 16th, 1857), when Lord Shaftesbury addressed them 
 as follows : — 
 
 u Iffy dear Children,— It has often fallen to my lot to address 
 boys and young men, who have been about to emigrate to another 
 land, but never before in my life have I been called upon to speak 
 to little girls. I have young girls of my own, and I shall speak to 
 you as if I were speaking to them. 
 
 " My dear girls, lay it seriously to heart that you are going 
 to a land where honest industry is sure to be rewarded. Bear in 
 mind, also, the means that is now put in your power of doing 
 good. If you conduct yourselves well, you will reflect credit 
 
22 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 >r 
 
 on those kind friends who have taken an interest in your wel- 
 fare, and we shall soon hear that more such as you are required 
 to be sent out. But if you misconduct yourselves, what great 
 mischief you will occasion ! You would give occasion for the 
 people of Canada to say, f Oh, pray never send here any more girls 
 from that institution !' # * * If at the meetings, when I am 
 pleading the cause of poor destitute girls, I can say that we sent 
 out ten girls, and because they have conducted themselves so well, 
 ten hundred more are wanted, I should have one fact worth ten 
 speeches." 
 
 This earnest appeal seems not to have been without 
 its effect ; for, both by a letter from the matron, after 
 she had placed all her charges in service, and from a 
 correspondent of the Globe, we learn that these girls 
 were so eagerly sought as servants that it was highly 
 advisable a much larger number should speedily be 
 sent out. 
 
 Lord Shaftesbury has attended the two last meetings 
 of the Association for the Promotion of Social Science. 
 Of that held in 1859, at Bradford, he was president. On 
 both of these occasions his speeches have been remark- 
 able for the benevolence and soundness of judgment which 
 they evince. In 1858, at Liverpool, he delivered a valu- 
 able address on Public Health, as president of that depart- 
 ment, in which he urged upon the consideration of his 
 hearers the necessity of a better provision for sanitary 
 arrangements, especially for the supply of good air and 
 good water to the houses of the poor, before the various 
 educational institutions of the country can be expected to 
 have their due effect upon the morals of their pupils ; 
 and the responsibility which all governing bodies in towns, 
 and all house-owners, incur in the very fact of their 
 having the power to work a beneficial change. He spoke, 
 also, of the over-crowding of the houses of the poor, as 
 
THE EARL OF SHAFTESBURY. 23 
 
 one fertile source of vice and crime. Due sanitary pro- 
 vision had, he said, in some towns, much reduced the rate 
 of mortality, saving in Liverpool alone 3,700 lives a-year. 
 He recommended the erection of gymnasiums in schools, 
 the adoption of the Saturday half-holiday, and the for- 
 mation of parks and playgrounds in which to enjoy it. 
 He advocated the establishment of drinking fountains, 
 and urged the necessity for a better knowledge of cookery 
 among the wives of working men, who would often 
 starve upon what a Frenchwoman of the same class 
 would convert into an excellent dinner for her family. 
 Speaking of the efforts already made in the right direc- 
 tion, he said : — 
 
 " If we be told that spiritual remedies are sufficient, and that 
 we labour too much for the perishable body, I reply that spiritual 
 appliances, in the state of things to which I allude, are altogether 
 impossible. Make every effort — push them forward — never desist 
 — lose not a moment ; but depend upon it, that, in such a state of 
 things, you will, in the end, be utterly baffled. But when people 
 say we should think more of the soul, and less of the body, my 
 answer is, that the same God who made the soul made the body 
 also/' 
 
 He concluded by an eloquent appeal to his hearers 
 " to give to every man, to the extent of our power, full, 
 fair, and free opportunity so to exercise all his moral, 
 intellectual, physical, and spiritual energies, that he 
 may, without let or hindrance, be able to do his duty 
 in that state of life to which it has pleased God to call 
 him." 
 
 Lord Shaftesbury's opinion, that nothing will be done 
 for the improvement of the working classes until their 
 houses are made decent and comfortable, must be con- 
 sidered in connection with his exhortation to them and 
 to their well-wishers to labour for this great object in all 
 

 24 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 ways. So considered, it will not mislead the reader into 
 the belief that until the houses of the poor are made 
 what they ought to be, all other attempts to better their 
 condition will be fruitless. Assertions are sometimes 
 made at public meetings, where the mind of the speaker 
 is bent on some one particular means of improvement, to 
 the effect that here we must begin, and that all who 
 commence elsewhere are throwing away their money and 
 their time, if not working absolute mischief. The promul- 
 gation of such narrow suggestions cannot but be injurious 
 in a greater or less degree. To would-be philanthropists, 
 held back by indolence, such views are a pleasing seda- 
 tive ; quieting the consciences of the many weak brethren 
 who cannot, or think they cannot, assist in the particular 
 task exclusively recommended to their attention. 
 
 Almost every evil which afflicts the poor is both a cause 
 and an effect. Thus a damp, dark, ill-drained, ill- ventilated 
 house, with inadequate provisions for the preservation of 
 decency, is the cause of disease, drunkenness, profligacy, 
 and crime. But the choice of such homes is in great 
 measure the effect of ignorance, low tastes, and improvi- 
 dence on the part of the inmates. A comfortless dwel- 
 ling, though one cause of drinking habits, is far from 
 being the sole, probably not the predominant cause. But 
 drinking habits exhaust the fund which ought to be 
 applied to paying the rent of a better tenement, while, 
 on the other hand, they deprave the taste, and in time 
 annihilate the desire for comfort and decency. The 
 drunkard soon becomes reckless of his health. He knows 
 that he is sacrificing it daily to the vice which plays 
 the tyrant over him, and it cannot, therefore, be expected 
 that he should care much about close rooms and defective 
 drainage, "Urge him to abstinence," say the Teetotallers. 
 
 
THE E4RL OF SHAFTESBURY. 25 
 
 "The adviee is excellent," say the Prohibitionists ; "but we 
 would invoke the restraints of law in addition to those 
 of moral suasion." Avoiding controversy, let it be con- 
 ceded, as it will be on all sides, that if the drunkard 
 would cease to drink, motives to obtain sanitary protection 
 would rise up in his. mind, and that he would find himself 
 possessed of means to carry them into efficient operation ; 
 either by amendments in his dwelling or by removal to a 
 better home. 
 
 So, again, if .our excellent domestic missionaries could 
 produce a strong religious impression upon the drunkard's 
 soul, similar consequences might reasonably be expected 
 to follow in a higher degree. Now, our mental constitu- 
 tions are so various, that the avenue to improvement 
 in one man is closed to good influences in another, who 
 nevertheless is open to them by a different approach. 
 We, therefore, would echo and re-echo the advice of Lord 
 Shaftesbury. Let every one of us, old and young, high 
 and low, rich and poor, learned and ignorant, strong and 
 weak, healthy and sick, go instantly to work — doing what 
 we can, much or little, in the great cause of social reform. 
 Let even the tenants of the Prison and the Hospital 
 remember, that as they are not wholly deprived of the 
 means of doing good, so they cannot altogether be excused 
 if they neglect, to avail themselves of their opportunities. 
 What has been confided to them may not amount to even 
 a single talent; but let them prize the minutest faculty 
 for serving others as a sacred trust, for the execution of 
 which they will one day have to account. None so poor 
 but he may give to his neighbours words of courtesy and 
 kindness, and, what is more, cultivate feelings of charity 
 towards them in his heart. Even the guilty can offer the 
 salutary example of repentance and amendment. The 
 
26 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 bodily sufferer can evince fortitude, patience, and resig- 
 nation, and lighten the burden of labour and sorrow 
 which his affliction casts upon his nursing relatives and 
 friends ; never forgetting that in thus acting towards his 
 fellow-creatures, in the midst of his infirmities, he is doing 
 the will of God. What says Milton ?— 
 
 * * * " God doth not need 
 Either man's work, or his own gifts ; who best 
 Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best ; his state 
 Is kingly ; thousands at his bidding speed, 
 And post o'er land and ocean without rest ; 
 They also serve who only stand and wait, 33 
 
 At a meeting of working men, held a day or two 
 afterwards, under the auspices ot the Association, Lord 
 Shaftesbury enforced the duty of self-help and self-con- 
 trol ; that much could be done, and must be done by 
 themselves, for bettering their social condition ; that the 
 habit of intoxication, induced in some degree, but not 
 wholly, by the bad air and water of their dwellings, was 
 # the great hindrance to the progress of an enormous part 
 of the working population of this country. If they did 
 not themselves co-operate with those willing to aid them, 
 no power on earth could remedy their deficiencies, and 
 working men would remain in their present condition to 
 the end of time. 
 
 " I hope and trust," said the noble lord, Cf that in all your pur- 
 suits, that in all your efforts, you will never cease to advance your- 
 selves .in the social scale ; do everything you can to purify your 
 dwellings, to improve your education, to assist forward your chil- 
 dren in a better course, if you can, than yourselves — do everything 
 you can to raise yourselves in the scale of society. I care not how 
 high your aspirations are; let them be aspirations to rule your 
 native city — aspirations to take part in the government of the 
 
 
 
THE EARL OF SHAFTESBURY. 27 
 
 country. The hereditary institutions of this country are never 
 so safe as when they are refreshed and strengthened by large im- 
 portations from the working and middle classes." 
 
 But he concluded by admonishing his hearers that 
 these efforts must be only the means to an end far exceed- 
 ing in importance whatever could befall them on earth ! 
 
 In his inaugural address at Bradford, he spoke ot 
 the part which women take in philanthropic labours. 
 As long as the principle was to be sought for and 
 established, men, he said, were the chief movers ; but 
 when that principle was to be practically applied, then 
 none were more fitted for the office than women. He 
 urged upon every one the duty of doing something in the 
 general work for the benefit of all, and showed how much 
 there is to be accomplished in every department — the 
 health of the nation, the education of the masses, and the 
 amusements of the people ; that none were so low in 
 station, or so devoid of knowledge, as to be disabled from 
 uniting in the enterprise. All branches of philanthropy 
 are, he said, intimately connected. If we take the dimi- 
 nution of crime, for instance, we find that the miserably 
 dirty and unhealthy dwellings of the poor cause a dis- 
 eased condition of body, and create an unnatural appetite 
 for stimulants. This generally leads to a state of habi- 
 tual intoxication, and from that there is often but a step 
 to the commission of crime. " May we not," he says, 
 M strive that all, of every degree, though in various sort 
 and manner, be really and effectively combined for the 
 one grand and final consummation, ' Glory to God in the 
 highest ; on earth peace, good-will towards men V r 
 
 At Bradford, as at Liverpool, there was a meeting of 
 working men, and in addressing them, Lord Shaftesbury 
 noted the change that has been effected in the last few 
 
28 r OUR EXEMPLARS, 
 
 
 years. A short time ago the question was, what was to 
 be done for the working classes i Now it is, what are 
 they to do for themselves % He advised them to relin- 
 quish the practice of visiting the beer-shop and gin- 
 palace ; to improve their minds and those of their 
 children ; and to form themselves into little " sections of 
 social economy" for the discussion of points important to 
 their welfare. One subject which he suggested for con- 
 sideration in these assemblies, was, whether it is not 
 " desirable that married women should remain at home" 
 — alluding to their employment in factories. He advised 
 his hearers "to pay more attention to their wives, to submit 
 themselves more to their influence, for the wives of a great 
 majority of working men would always give their husbands 
 good advice ; — they had more discretion, more self-control, 
 more penetration, more care for their families, more 
 economy and management than their husbands ; and if the 
 latter listened to their advice, depend upon it their homes 
 would be happier and their own conduct more wise." 
 He counselled them to avoid strikes. He had never 
 known any good arise from a strike ; and he undertook 
 to say, " that if they went boldly and straightly to their 
 employers, if they appealed to public opinion, their just 
 demands would be readily granted." This speech was 
 received with enthusiastic cheering throughout. 
 
 The propriety of an enterprise in which Lord Shaftes- 
 bury has lately engaged, that of providing religious 
 services for the lowest classes on Sundays, in some of the 
 metropolitan theatres, has been questioned ; yet it is 
 worthy of remark that the preservation of order among 
 the congregations has been effected by members of their 
 own body, who voluntarily undertook this duty, and 
 have admirably performed it. At a soiree of the Re- 
 
THE EARL OF SHAFTESBURY. 29 
 
 formatory and Refuge Union, held on June 6th, I860, 
 at which Lord Shaftesbury presided, he apologised for 
 leaving the chair by saying that he was engaged to 
 attend another meeting that same evening — a meet- 
 ing of the "roughs," who had volunteered to preserve 
 order at the special services in theatres, and who were 
 to describe what they had observed there, and consult 
 respecting the best mode of proceeding. They and 
 their wives and children were to take tea together 
 that night. " In fact," said Lord Shaftesbury, " we are 
 going to have a regular 'jollification.' " 
 
 Earlier in his address he had spoken of the advan- 
 tages gained by the emigration of the inmates of 
 refuges when duly prepared; and when adverting 
 to their sense of the benefits received while under 
 training in England, and bestowed by the opportunity 
 afforded them of removing with a fair name to a 
 colony, he related an incident which had recently 
 occurred. A party of eight inmates from an adult 
 male reformatory were about to emigrate, and, as usual, 
 the gentlemen interested in their welfare assembled to 
 take leave of them. The interview was almost at an 
 end, and seven of the men were already leaving the room, 
 when the eighth asked Lord Shaftesbury if he would 
 step aside with him for a moment, — he could not 
 leave the country without opening his whole heart to 
 him. He had been, he said, eight times in gaol, and, 
 friendless and degraded, and conscious of the wickedness of 
 his life, he had believed there was no hope for him in this 
 world or the next. But having at length been received 
 into the reformatory, a happier prospect had opened upon 
 him, and now that he was enabled to emigrate with an 
 honest career before him, he felt he could not depart 
 
30 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 without shaking hands with his benefactor, and expressing 
 his deep sense of gratitude towards him and the institu- 
 tion which had saved him. 
 
 Notwithstanding his absorbing toil for the general 
 good, Lord Shaftesbury has not been unmindful of the 
 tenants and labourers on his own estates, although he 
 has been charged with supposed neglect of his duty 
 towards them. As one proof of this we may adduce the 
 following account of a harvest-home which occurred in 
 the autumn of 1856. 
 
 '" The good old British custom of harvest homes has been re- 
 vived on St. Giles's estate, Dorsetshire, the seat of the Earl of 
 Shaftesbury. Having previously entertained, at a festivity of this 
 description, the peasantry on a portion of his domain in that county, 
 to the number of nearly 300, his lordship afterwards invited those 
 residing in the parishes of Horton, "Woodland, Sutton, and Gassage- 
 All Saints. The labourers and servants on the various farms, num- 
 bering about 350, assembled during the morning in the yard ad- 
 joining the mansion of St. Giles's, under the care of their respective 
 employers, and shortly afterwards proceeded to church, headed by 
 a band of music. On returning, a bountiful dinner was provided 
 for the guests, beneath a spacious tent, that had been erected 
 and gaily decorated for the occasion. The Earl of Shaftesbury 
 presided at the head of the table, and Lord Ashley took the 
 post of carver at the other end. The repast being over, and .grace 
 pronounced — 
 
 " The noble earl wished to say with what gratification he saw 
 them there as his guests — his honest, hard-working peasantry, who, 
 under the providence of God, had been called to bring in and 
 store up a most bountiful harvest. He thought these celebrations 
 were of great value in bringing together all classes of society — 
 he thought they were of value, to show that they were all dependent 
 one upon another ; and that, although he was the possessor of that 
 estate, he could have no enjoyment of it without the good conduct 
 of the honest labourer and peasantry. If they derived any benefit 
 from him, he, on the other hand, derived benefit from them ; and if 
 they had derived any from these good things at his hands, he had 
 
THE EARL OF SHAFTESBURY. 31 
 
 received them at the hand of God ; he was but the channel for con- 
 veying them to his neighbour. That was the greatest honour to 
 which a man could aspire— namely, being the instrument, under 
 God, of conferring benefit upon his fellow-man. His lordship then 
 thanked his good, honest, and noble tenantry for their readiness in 
 co-operating with him in a work such as this, and for giving those in 
 their employ a day's holiday, without stinting them in their wages. 
 And now he wished them hearty joy. The park was open ; there 
 was a band for their amusement, and cricket and other games 
 would be provided. He trusted that at the close of the day they 
 would rejoice that, under the messing of God, they had had an 
 opportunity, by rational mirth, and by honest, sober enjoyment, to 
 celebrate His praises, not only with their lips, but in their lives. 
 (Loud applause.) Cheers were afterwards given for Lord Ashley, 
 who briefly returned thanks ; and also for the Countess of Shaftes- 
 bury and the other members of the family. The party then re- 
 paired to the park, where the healthy rural sports were kept up 
 with much spirit, the whole proceedings being of a most pleasing 
 and gratifying character." 
 
 We hope that we have afforded the readers of our 
 brief memoir of Lord Shaftesbury some insight into the 
 life and actions of this distinguished man. In him, to 
 talents of a high order are united earnestness of pur- 
 pose, perseverance against every obstacle, and unflagging 
 industry. We find his name connected with philan- 
 thropic societies, almost innumerable, either as the pre- 
 sident, or as a leading member ; and in no case have we 
 heard a complaint of neglect, or that he attends their 
 meetings without a full knowledge of their purpose and 
 operation. On the contrary, he comes prepared with 
 evidence to illustrate the evils which they were esta- 
 blished to remedy — evidence gathered by personal exer- 
 tions, involving a large expenditure of time and labour — 
 or furnished with abundant testimony to the success 
 attained, which he has, perhaps, been the chief instrument 
 
32 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 in promoting. It is by the exercise of these moral and 
 intellectual qualities — by his steadfast desire to do right, 
 that he has gained the admiration and the respect of his 
 fellow-countrymen. Intimately connected, as he is known 
 to be, with a very distinct party in the Church, the course 
 he is presumed to take in her politics has led many, 
 whose opinions on ecclesiastical matters differ from his, 
 to regard him as entitled to the merit of only good inten- 
 tions. We hope we have shown that he has a far higher 
 claim to our regard, in that he has achieved what on all 
 sides will be acknowledged as noble results. 
 
33 
 
 JACQUES JASMIN. 
 
 To most of our readers the name of Jacques Jasmin, "the 
 barber-poet of France," is probably not unknown, as he 
 has been mentioned in the narratives of their rambles by 
 various travellers in Guienne, and notices of his life have 
 appeared in different English publications, among which 
 we may mention the " English Cyclopaedia " and " Eliza 
 Cook's Journal." To both of these we are indebted for 
 many interesting facts concerning him, but our memoir 
 must have been brief, and deficient in the characteristic 
 traits and local colouring which give life to a portrait, 
 had we not access to an article upon our hero and his 
 writings from the eloquent pen of his countryman, 
 M. Saintebeuve, the author of " Les Causeries du Lunedi " 
 [" Chattings on a Monday"], a series of papers which 
 appeared in the Constitutionnel. That published on 
 Monday, July 7, 1851, is devoted to the consideration 
 of Jasmin and his poems, and of it we shall make 
 free use. 
 
 Agen, a place of great antiquity, built on the left bank 
 of the noble Garonne, and chief town of the Department 
 Lot- et- Garonne, a portion of the Province of Guienne, is 
 the birthplace of several distinguished men. The erudite 
 Julius Scaliger migrated from Yerona in the reign of 
 Francis I., and settled at Agen, where his no less learned 
 son, Joseph Julius, was born. " Palissy the Potter," and 
 Lacepede the naturalist, were natives of this town ; and 
 here, on March 6th, 1798, Jacques Jasmin first saw the 
 light. His father, who was a tailor, was, we are told, a 
 hunchback, and his mother a cripple. They were, besides, 
 
 D 
 
34 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 miserably poor ; and their abode, at the time of Jacques' 
 birth, was a ruinous building infested with rats. It so 
 happened that his entry into the world was during a 
 charivari, at which were shouted verses of his fathers 
 composition, who, though unable to read or write, was 
 celebrated in his locality among the authors of the bur- 
 lesque rhymes employed on these occasions. A charivari, 
 be it known, originally signified the public expression 
 of opinion with which old maids or widows who thought fit 
 to marry were greeted by disapproving neighbours, and 
 consisted in a serenade of the most discordant- noises, 
 accompanying words of no complimentary nature ; gra- 
 dually, however, it obtained a more general applica- 
 tion. When he was old enough to enjoy this frequent 
 amusement among the lower classes of Agen and the 
 neighbourhood, it pleased little Jacques mightily to 
 accompany his father and add his quota of noise to the 
 general din. But he loved still better to ramble in the 
 woods and fields amid scenery which, charming on all 
 sides, acquires on the south additional beauty from its 
 majestic boundary, "the long waving line of the blue 
 Pyrenees." 
 
 The islands in the Garonne were a favourite resort. 
 Thither he and his companions betook themselves to 
 collect fagots. " Naked- footed and naked-headed," he 
 says, in an autobiographical poem, entitled " My Recollec- 
 tions," "I plunged among the green boughs. I wasn't 
 alone ; sometimes there were twenty, sometimes thirty of 
 us. Oh ! how my soul leapt, when we all set out together 
 at mid-day, singing 'The Lamb whom Thou hast given' 
 [a well-known carol in the South]. The very recollection 
 to this day delights me. ' To the island ! to the island 
 shouted the boldest. . . , Then all made haste to 
 
. JACQUES JASftrff. 35 
 
 : gather together his bundle of fagots. The bundle was 
 made up an hour before nightfall ; the rest of the time 
 was spent in play. And then the return — so glorious it 
 was ! On thirty heads tripped along, thirty fagot-bundles, 
 and thirty voices sang, as at setting out, the same 
 burthen." 
 
 In these woods he first dreamed of achieving great- 
 ness, inspired, he says, by a legend of the neighbourhood, 
 that one celebrated author had already shed a lustre upon 
 Agen by the poems he had composed amid the murmur- 
 ings of her silvery Garonne. It was the elder Scaliger, 
 the man of great classical learning and the famous critic, 
 whom tradition had converted into a popular poet ! 
 
 At length money was scraped together by his grand- 
 father, who earned it by carrying parcels, to send little 
 Jacques, much to his alarm, to school. But his terror 
 was premature. Bread for the family was needed even 
 more than schooling for Jacques, and the old man's savings 
 were diverted from their purpose. Shortly afterwards 
 the child met his grandfather as he was being carried along 
 the street, in an old chair, by the porters belonging to 
 the poorhouse. The lad, amazed, asked whither he was 
 going, and why he wept ? " My child," said the old man, 
 " I am going to the poorhouse ; it is there the Jasmins 
 die." From that time Jacques knew that his family was 
 very poor. In the poem already quoted he has described 
 the intensity of their poverty : — 
 
 " The dwelling they inhabited, the same in which he had been 
 born, was," he says, " a room open to the four winds of heaven ; there 
 were three beds stuffed with rags, and six old linen curtains, a few 
 spoons, which were often in danger of being seized for debt, four 
 or five riveted plates, a little pitcher, two larger ones cracked, a 
 bench, a battered candlestick, a smoky looking-glass without a 
 frame, fastened to the wall by three little nails, four broken chairs, 
 
 d2 
 
36 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 a wallet hung up, and a cupboard without a key. This was all the 
 furniture for a family of nine persons !" 
 
 At length aid came, in the shape of a free admission 
 to school for Jacques. In six months he had learnt to read ; 
 soon afterwards he was received into the church-choir, and 
 distinguishing himself there, he was admitted gratis into 
 the seminary conducted by priests. Here he won a some- 
 what unusual prize — a worn-out cassock ; remodelled and 
 retrimmed it was doubtless very acceptable, in his mother's 
 eyes at least, for Jacques, it must be owned, did not relish 
 appearing in so queer a garment. But a reverse was at 
 hand. The lad indulged in some boyish pranks, which 
 caused him to be expelled from the seminary, and running 
 home, the news he brought spread consternation in the 
 family. It was Shrove Tuesday, and probably to celebrate 
 the last day appropriated to feasting before Lent, a morsel 
 of meat had been prepared for dinner. The poor mother, 
 however, thought of the bread which she had been accus- 
 tomed to receive as a gift from the seminary, and feel- 
 ing that Jacques' misconduct would deprive them of this 
 important supply, she burst into tears. But suddenly she 
 went out, bidding the children wait and hope, and soon re- 
 turned with some bread. All but Jacques were content 
 to eat without seeking to know whence the food came ; 
 he pondered the matter, until, glancing at his mother's 
 hand, he saw her wedding ring was gone. She had sold it 
 to purchase bread in the place of that lost through his 
 misdeeds. 
 
 When about twelve years old, and the time being at 
 hand for making his first communion — a Boman Catholic 
 rite corresponding with confirmation in the Church of 
 England — it so happened that he was shoeless. A mes- 
 senger was wanted to carry a letter to a town at some dis- 
 
JACQUES JASMIN*. 37 
 
 tance, who would be paid four francs [3s. 2d.] for the errand 
 — the price of a pair of shoes. Jacques joyfully undertook 
 the journey. Shortly before he reached his destination he 
 sat down on a bank to eat a crust of bread, and drink 
 of the cool clear water that flowed from a rock close 
 by. Thirty years afterwards, when the inhabitants of the 
 same town gave him — then a celebrated poet — a brilliant 
 reception, it was at this very spot that he encountered 
 his entertainers who had come to meet him ; need we 
 say, that his first thought was of the day when he had 
 sat by the roadside a barefooted lad ? 
 
 When thirteen or fourteen years of age, his powers as 
 a narrator had begun to develop themselves. Every 
 evening he was to be seen the presiding genius among all 
 the children of the neighbourhood. He related to them 
 the stories he had read ; or if his memory failed, which 
 rarely happened, he continued the tale after his own 
 fashion. On one evening in the week, however, Jacques 
 was always missing, and his absence rousing suspicion, it 
 was determined to lie in wait for and surprise the delin- 
 quent. In pursuance of this resolution, they followed him 
 as he was hastening along a neighbouring street, and sud- 
 denly he found himself in the midst of the noisy troop, 
 who seized him forthwith. But what was it they saw 
 him in the moonlight slip under his coat 1 A morsel of 
 bread ! The whole troop was instantly silent. They 
 knew at once that poverty and alms were the cause of 
 the mystery. The truth was that every Friday the lad 
 went, under shadow of night, to the door of two sisters 
 who lived in that part of the town — their name, Martino, 
 he has recorded — to receive the bread of charity. 
 
 We next hear of Jacques as an apprentice to a barber, 
 a calling which he thenceforth pursued. He had begun 
 
38 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 to read and to write poetry, but lie never allowed literary 
 pursuits to lessen his attention to business. Soon, he was 
 able to open a shop of his own, choosing for his abode a 
 house upon the Gfaviers, a promenade beneath a noble 
 avenue, leading from the town to the river; and above his 
 door a dangling brass basin, and a projecting board, in- 
 scribed, " Jasmin, Perruquier, Coiffeur de Jeunes Gem" 
 [Wigmaker, and Youth's Hairdresser], served to an- 
 nounce the vocation of the owner. His poetic gift, how- 
 ever (exercised in the intervals of his regular occupation), 
 began to bring in money, and not only did he, in a 
 fit of enthusiasm, break up the old chair which had been 
 used to convey his progenitors to the poor-house, but he 
 soon purchased the house in which he dwelt, and was the 
 first Jasmin who attained to the honour of being called 
 upon by the collector of taxes. Meanwhile he had 
 married a wife of his own rank. She is described by 
 Miss Costello, who visited her husband, as a brisk little 
 woman, and we hear also that she was a woman of sense 
 and imagination ; but we suspect that sense predomi- 
 nated, as she strongly opposed her husband's verse-making 
 propensities, until she found that they put money in his 
 purse. Then she became their warmest advocate, and 
 would laughingly exclaim, as she handed the poet the 
 best procurable pen and paper, " Take courage ; every 
 line is another tile for our roof!" No one, however, 
 sympathised more warmly with him in his triumphs than 
 she did. 
 
 Many of Jasmin's compositions first became known 
 by his recitation of them in his barber's shop, where, 
 while shaving his customers, he entertained them by 
 repeating his poems. He soon, however, attained such 
 celebrity that he gave his recitations in public ; and 
 
 
JACQUES JASMIN.^ 39 
 
 not in Agen alone, but in all the important towns 
 in the South of France. Nature has eminently 
 gifted him with the qualities necessary to success as 
 a reciter. 
 
 Miss Costello, to whom, upon the occasion of her visit- 
 ing him in his little shop (where she found him dressing 
 a customer's hair), he read his touching poem, " Franco- 
 nette," says, " He began in a rich, soft voice . . . ; 
 his eyes swam in tears ; he became pale and red ; he 
 trembled; he recovered himself ; his face was now joyous, 
 exulting, gay, jocose ; in fact, he was twenty actors in one ; 
 he rang the changes from Rachel to Bouffe,* and he 
 finished by delighting us, besides beguiling us of our 
 tears, and overwhelming us with astonishment. He 
 would have been a treasure on the stage; for he is still, 
 though his first youth" is past, remarkably good-looking 
 and striking, with black, sparkling eyes of intense ex- 
 pression, a fine ruddy complexion, a countenance of 
 wondrous mobility, a good figure, and action full of fire 
 and grace ; he has handsome hands, which he uses with 
 
 * Rachel Felix, born March, 1820, of very poor parents, gained a 
 living in childhood by singing in the cafes of Paris. Her genius for 
 acting was recognised, and careful training being bestowed upon her, 
 she became, with the aid of her own indefatigable perseverance and 
 industry, the greatest actress of her age — perhaps the greatest the world 
 ever saw. She died of consumption in January, 1858. One of her 
 enthusiastic admirers said, " There are three empresses and ten queens 
 in Europe; there was one Rachel, and now there is none!" — English- 
 woman's Journal, May, 1858. 
 
 Bouffe, a French actor, still living, is distinguished by genius 
 scarcely inferior to that of Rachel; but while she was greatest in 
 tragedy, he is more celebrated as a comic actor. He is remarkable for 
 the variety of characters he can impersonate. We recollect to have 
 seen him on the same evening perform the part of a gamin, as the mis- 
 chievous street lads in Paris are called, and that of a man a hundred 
 years old ; and both representations were perfect. 
 
40 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 infinite effect ; and, on the whole, he is the best actor 
 the kind I ever saw." 
 
 Jasmin, however, never recites for his own pecuniary 
 advantage. He declines to appear before an audience to 
 exhibit for money (for his own use) the gifts with which 
 Nature has endowed him ; he therefore appropriates to 
 charitable objects the price paid for admission to hear him. 
 
 "The raptures of the New Yorkers or Bostonians 
 with Jenny Lind are weak and cold compared with the 
 ovations which Jasmin has received. At a late recitation 
 at Auch (a city about twenty miles distant from his native 
 place, Agen), the ladies present actually tore the flowers 
 and feathers out of their bonnets, wove them into extem- 
 pore garlands, and flung them in showers upon the 
 panting minstrel. The last entertainment of the kind 
 given by Jasmin, in one of the Pyrenean cities — I forget 
 which — produced two thousand francs. Every sou of this 
 went to the public charities."* But we are struck with his 
 sterling good sense and self-control, even more than with 
 his generosity. " After, perhaps, a brilliant tour through 
 the South of France, delighting vast audiences in every 
 city, and flinging many thousands of francs into every poor- 
 box which he passes, the poet contentedly returns to his 
 humble occupation, and to the little shop where he earns 
 his bread by his daily toil, as a barber and hairdresser. "t 
 He has been repeatedly urged to settle in Paris, which he 
 has once visited, and where he tasted the intoxicating 
 draught of flattery and admiration. But he is true to 
 the sentiments he has expressed in his poem, " Town and 
 Country," composed in honour of an agricultural festival 
 held near Agen, in September, 1849. In this he demon- 
 strates the advantage of not desertiog one's native soil 
 * l Eliza Cook's Journal/ 1851. f Ibid, 
 
 : 
 
JACQUES JASMIN. 41 
 
 for all the glories and gratifications to ambition which 
 life in a metropolis may afford, adding, "The country 
 was my cradle, and she shall be my tomb; I have studied 
 her nature, I have sounded her worth." Jasmin will 
 neither give up the trade which his genius and character 
 have dignified, nor abandon Agen, where he is esteemed 
 by all his townsfolk. 
 
 The language, called Romance, in which Jasmin com- 
 poses is not pure French, nor is it simply a patois — the 
 dialect of one district. 
 
 In the twelfth century, Provenqale — the language of 
 the South of France, the first which sprang from the 
 union of the Latin with the barbaric tongues of the 
 nations subdued by the Romans — had attained a classic 
 elegance, by being the medium employed by the Trouba- 
 dours for their graceful compositions. But the wars of 
 the Albigenses — destructive to literature — and the re- 
 moval of every political centre from that portion of the 
 kingdom, deprived the Provengale tongue of its influence, 
 and it soon sank into the humble position of a patois. It 
 was further debased by losing its character of unity, and 
 each district in the south gradually^ came to speak a patois 
 of its own, mongrelised, however, by words grafted upon 
 it from languages differing in genius and form from itself. 
 Jasmin, commencing with the dialect of Agen, in itself 
 pleasing, purified it from French innovations, and intro- 
 duced from neighbouring districts, with prudence and 
 taste, such forcible, picturesque, and expressive words and 
 idioms as would harmonise with its structure. He # is 
 never so happy, it is said, as when he learns from the 
 mouth of an artisan or peasant one of those racy, signi- 
 ficant words which, as he expresses it, "are worth ten 
 ordinary ones ; " and he regards the language in which 
 
42 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 Burns wrote — -of which he has read in the works of: 
 Chateaubriand — as one of the few which possess the 
 qualities demanded by the poet. By dint of great care 
 and labour he has formed one no less appropriate to 
 poetry. Enriched with all the beauties acquired by sur- 
 rounding dialects from intercourse with Italy and Spain, 
 he has rendered it intelligible, not only to the whole of 
 the South of France, but even to the people dwelling on 
 the Spanish slopes of the Pyrenees. We can imagine the 
 grace with which so sweet a language must invest the 
 incidents of his touching poem, " Mad Martha." From 
 his boyhood Jasmin had seen the poor maniac Martha in 
 the streets of Agen, where she had lived for thirty 
 years on public charity. No one knew her history, but 
 he used to hear the neighbours say, " Martha must be 
 hungry, for she has come out to-day ; " and he had, with 
 other mischievous urchins, joined in teasing the poor, 
 harmless creature by shouting, " Martha, there's a 
 soldier!" because Martha, who was afraid of soldiers, 
 would flee away at these words ; but why she fled, he 
 could not then tell. Later, he learnt her story and im- 
 mortalised it. 
 
 Her lover, Jacques, had been drawn for the conscrip- 
 tion. He came in tears to bid her adieu. He had 
 neither father nor mother, and no one in the world to 
 love him, save her. He departed, promising, if the war 
 should spare him, to return and share his life with her. 
 
 The month of May arrives, and with it arrive the 
 swallows. She mournfully recognises a pair round whose 
 necks Jacques, the year before, had fastened a ribbon, in 
 remembrance of her birthday, when the gentle creatures 
 had fed from their joined hands. At length poor 
 Martha falls ill— a slow fever devours her ; she is dying, 
 
 i 
 
JACQUES JASMIN." 43 
 
 and the good priest asks the prayers of his congregation 
 in her behalf. But a kind-hearted uncle lias guessed the 
 cause of her malady, and he whispers beside her .pillow 
 that which recalls her to life and restores her to health. 
 He sells his vineyard, and with the sum it produces, if 
 Martha will get well and work hard, they shall soon have 
 enough to purchase the soldier's discharge. Martha, 
 roused by hope, is inspired with new life and power to 
 labour. The uncle dies ; still she is not discouraged. 
 She sells her cottage, and, light of heart, she hastens to 
 the clergyman, carrying with her the whole sum needed 
 for Jacques' release. "Sir," said Martha, falling on her 
 knees, " I have brought all I have ; now you can write. 
 You who are so good to me, you will procure his liberty. 
 But do not say who has saved him. Oh ! he will guess 
 it easily enough. Do not mention me, and do not fear 
 for me. I have strong arms — I will earn a livelihood. 
 Oh, take pity upon me, sir, and restore him to me." 
 
 But it was not easy, during Napoleon's gigantic wars, 
 to discover one of his private soldiers. The village priest 
 understands his flock; he reads their hearts. If a sinner 
 avoids him, he misses him, and goes to seek him. But 
 how, in his quiet parsonage, is he to find out a soldier, a 
 nameless member of a vast army, and who had not written 
 for three years past ? The good clergyman", however, will 
 not fail to accomplish what he has undertaken. Mean- 
 Avhile Martha, poor, but gaining confidence, and with it 
 happiness, never ceases to work. She labours night and 
 day to replace what she has already given away, and that 
 she may be able to give more. Her loving deed becoming 
 known in the country round, excites in the hearts of all 
 apathy and admiration; and serenades, garlands of 
 flowers, and gifts, testify the universal approval. 
 
44 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 Already Martha is looked upon almost as a bride, 
 when one Sunday morning after mass the good priest 
 approaqhes her with a paper in his hand. It is a letter 
 from Jacques. He is found, he is free,, and will arrive 
 the following Sunday. Moreover, he has not guessed 
 who is his benefactor, but has surmised — poor foundling 
 that he was — that his mother might have made herself 
 known, and effected his deliverance. A week elapses, 
 and Sunday has returned. After mass the whole village 
 is assembled, as if to receive a grand personage. Martha, 
 with her pure maidenly countenance, is beside the old 
 priest, and all stand with joyous faces at the end of the 
 village, whence the white high road stretches away into 
 the far distance. 
 
 " There is nothing in the middle, nothing at the end 
 of that long silvery strip — nothing but the shade torn in 
 pieces by the sun." One must have seen the deep shadows 
 and brilliant sunshine of a southern latitude fully to 
 appreciate the force of this metaphor. All at once a 
 black speck grows bigger. It moves. Two men — two 
 soldiers — the tallest is he. How well he looks ! How he 
 has grown since he entered the army ! Both are coming 
 this way. Who can the other be 1 It looks like a woman. 
 It is one, too, and a stranger. How pretty she is, how 
 graceful ; she is dressed like a cantiniere* A woman 
 with Jacques ! Where can she be going 1 Martha, pale 
 as death, has her eyes riveted upon them ; even the priest 
 and the surrounding groups tremble. All are silent ; 
 
 * Each regiment in the French army has its appointed cantiniere, 
 whose very becoming costume much resembles the uniform of her com- 
 panions, being, however, of course, modified to suit her sex. The 
 cantiniere is employed in the victualling department, and also to supply 
 medicine, &c, to the sick and wounded. She is generally the wife of 
 one of the soldiers, and a woman of respectable character. 
 
JACQUES JASMIN. 45 
 
 the two come nearer and nearer. They are now within 
 twenty paces, smiling, and ont of breath. But what has 
 happened now ] Jacques looks troubled. He has seen 
 Martha. Trembling and ashamed, he stops. The priest 
 no longer restrains himself ; in his deep, full voice, which 
 has so often struck terror into the sinner's heart, he asks, 
 "Jacques, who is this woman]" And like a criminal, 
 hanging down his head, he answers, " My wife, sir, mine ; 
 I am married." A shriek is heard ; the priest turns to 
 Martha. The poor girl, her eyes yet fixed lovingly 
 on Jacques, had burst into a peal of laughter— convulsive 
 laughter. Her mind was gone for ever ! 
 
 Having formed almost a new tongue, Jasmin found 
 that he must instruct his readers in the language he had 
 created. One of his poems, "Me cal mouri" ["I fain 
 would die "], a very pathetic composition, had produced 
 a great sensation in the country round, but its fame was' 
 founded upon an oral edition alone. Shortly afterwards 
 he recited another piece to some friends, which found its 
 way into the Agen newspaper. What did the poet there- 
 upon 1 Evening having fallen, he hovered about a neigh- 
 bouring house where he knew the journal was taken in. 
 Breathless, he creeps to the threshold, prepared to enjoy 
 his triumph. But, to his intense disappointment, no 
 sooner have the readers reached his poem than one of them 
 exclaims, " It is in Latin ! " Hearing the word, another 
 of the company, more learned than the rest, jumps up, 
 and, seizing the paper, declares it to be in an incompre- 
 hensible patois. The poet, who can no longer restrain 
 himself, goes in (it is a watchmaker s shop) under pre- 
 text of inquiring the time. He is readily answered, and 
 then questioned concerning the enigmatical verses. He 
 does not wait to be further interrogated, and is soon dis- 
 
•46 /OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 covered to be the author. He reads the poem aloud, and 
 ; at once interests his audience. "But," he says,, "I had 
 discovered the weak point in my structure — the difficulty 
 of reading it. ■.■ I found I must teach the public to read a 
 patois which they had never before seen in print, and 
 must begin by reading it myself intelligently, and with 
 dramatic effect." That same evening he visited every 
 eating-house and shop where he knew the journal would 
 be found. Everywhere he went in with as plausible an 
 excuse as that of asking the time, making some purchase 
 at the shops, and at the public-houses calling for a glass 
 of brandy, though he hated it. It was a ruinous evening 
 for him, but he succeeded in making his poem universally 
 understood. " And I did the same thing for five years," 
 he says, " whenever the newspaper published any of my 
 verses." Thus arose his practice of reciting. From the 
 first he devoted the proceeds to charitable purposes, and 
 soon he came to be regarded as the indispensable hero of 
 every fete which could lay any claim to a national or 
 .public character. Did the town of Beziers erect a statue 
 to Biquet, Jasmin must be there to sing in earnest 
 and lofty strains him to whose genius France owes her 
 great Southern canal. Did Albi raise a similar monu- 
 ment in memory of her gallant citizen, the ill-fated 
 discoverer, La Peyrouse, Jasmin appeared there also to 
 celebrate the bravery and enterprise of his countryman, 
 with whom he divided the honours of the day. His 
 audiences soon numbered three or four thousand persons, 
 and he has had to deliver his recitation in the open air, 
 because no room could be found large enough to contain 
 the multitude who desired to hear him. 
 
 Jasmin's earliest publication was that of the " Chari- 
 vari," in 1825, a burlesque poem, and probably, in part, 
 
. JACQUES JASMIN. 47 
 
 1 a reminiscence of what he had heard from his father. It 
 is, however, prefaced by a fine ode, addressed to an advo- 
 cate and brother poet of Ageri\ It was followed, in 1835, 
 by " The Curl-Papers," as the honest hair-dresser entitled 
 this collection of poems. 
 
 About this time he was elected a member of the 
 Academies of Agen and Bordeaux, and a similar honour 
 has since been bestowed upon him from many quarters • 
 but it is one which the author holds in moderate esteem, 
 entertaining as unfavourable an opinion of the effect of 
 academies and literary societies upon literature as that 
 expressed by Macaulay.* But, notwithstanding his 
 academical laurels, Jasmin had not yet shown himself to 
 be more than a graceful and tender versifier, and his fame 
 scarcely extended beyond his own neighbourhood. At 
 the end of 1836, however, he published the "Blind Girl 
 of Castel-Cuille," a beautiful and most pathetic compo- 
 sition, even reminding the reader, says M. Saintebeuve, 
 of the works of classic writers, especially those of Theo- 
 critus. The poem, which at once established his claim to 
 the title of poet, has been admirably translated by Long- 
 fellow. To an event which occurred in 1834 may be 
 attributed this development of Jasmin's powers. 
 
 A fire burst forth one night in Agen. A lad of 
 humble rank, but gifted with fair talent and who had 
 received some education, was present and witnessed a 
 most distressing scene. "When Jasmin and others reached 
 the spot, the boy, still full of emotion, related what he 
 had just beheld. "I shall never forget it !" said Jasmin. 
 " He made us shudder — he made us weep ! He was 
 another Corneille ! another Talma ! I spoke of him the 
 
 * 'The Royal Society of Literature,' Knight's Quarterly Magazine. 
 
48 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 following day to some of the leading people of Agen. 
 They wished to see the lad, and sent for him to repeat 
 his narrative : but the fever of emotion had died away ; 
 he turned his phrases, was affected, and used exaggera- 
 tion ; in short, he laboured to produce an effect, and he 
 utterly failed. Then I was convinced that when speaking 
 or acting under the impulse of excitement, we all, the 
 eloquent and taciturn alike, are filled with enthusiasm 
 and animation — true poets, in fact, without thinking of it ; 
 and I was convinced, too, that our Muse may, by dint of 
 patient labour, arrive at the same point while she is 
 thinking of it." It is by " patient labour " that our poet 
 has produced the finished compositions of later years, so. 
 carefully elaborated, so conscientiously wrought out, that 
 he has attained the highest excellence of an artist, the 
 "art which conceals art ;" and thus the poems of Jasmin 
 are no less admired for their perfect symmetry and polish 
 than for their fire, their simplicity, and their truth to 
 nature. As an illustration of the time he spends upon 
 each composition, and also of his frank and yet courteous 
 disposition, we cite the following passage : — 
 
 " During one of those tours which for the last sixteen 
 years he has frequently made through the South of France, 
 and which are one succession of recitations and of ovations, 
 a poet, in the Department of L'Herault — a poet who 
 wrote in patois too — named Peyrottes, a potter by trade, 
 and who had gained some reputation, though far below 
 that of Jasmin, sent him, by letter, a challenge. Jasmin 
 was then passing though Montpellier : — 
 
 " ' Sir, 5 wrote Peyrottes, December 24th, 1847, c I venture in 
 my rashness — which, indeed, borders upon impudence — to send 
 you a challenge. Will you condescend to accept it ? In the 
 middle ages the Troubadours would not have disdained the defiance 
 which I, in my hardihood, am offering to you. 
 
JACQUES JASMIN. 49 
 
 " ■ I will come to Montpellier upon any day, at any hour, you 
 will mention. We will appoint four persons acquainted with 
 literature to assign us three subjects, upon which we will speak 
 within twenty-four hours. We will both be shut up, and a 
 sentinel shall guard the door. "Victuals only shall be allowed 
 to enter. 
 
 " f As a child of L'Herault, I maintain the honour and glory of 
 my birthplace. 
 
 " f In such a case as this charity must, of course, have her place. 
 We will, therefore, have the three compositions printed, for the 
 benefit of the Creche at Montpellier.* 
 
 " f I would gladly enter the lists with you to recite, but a very 
 marked defect in my speech forbids me. 5 
 
 " In a postscript to this defiant letter he adds : — 
 
 " e I give you notice, sir, that I shall immediately distribute at 
 Montpellier copies of this letter/ 
 
 " Here, then, was Jasmin peremptorily called upon — 
 and as a point of honour — to improvise. Will he meet 
 his antagonist ? Let us listen to his charming response, 
 and to the lesson which it contains for others besides the 
 potter-poet. 
 
 cc f Sir, — I received only the day before yesterday, on the eve of 
 my departure, your poetic challenge ; but I am bound to tell you 
 that had it reached me at a more opportune time, I could not have 
 accepted it. 
 
 " ' Why, sir, you propose to my muse, who loves the open air 
 and liberty so dearly, to shut herself up in a locked chamber, 
 guarded by four sentinels, who shall let nothing pass but victuals, 
 and there to compose upon three given subjects within twenty-four 
 hours ! Three subjects in twenty -four hours ! Sir, you make me 
 tremble. The peril with which you threaten my muse compels 
 me to confess, in all humility, that she is simple enough to copy 
 
 * A Creche (cradle) is a public nursery for the children of the labour- 
 ing poor. They are numerous abroad, and have been opened of late 
 years in Edinburgh and London. 
 
 E 
 
50 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 the antique so far as to grant me only two or three lines in a day. 
 My five poems, "The Blind Girl/ 5 " My Recollections," "Francos 
 nette/ 5 " Mad Martha/ 5 and " The Two Twins/ 5 have cost me twelve 
 years' labour, and yet all, put together, amount to but two thou- 
 sand four hundred lines. 
 
 " c Thus you see the chances would not be equal ; our two muses 
 would scarcely have been made prisoners before yours would well 
 nigh have completed her triple task; while mine, poor little thing, 
 would still have been waiting for the moment of inspiration. 
 
 " c I dare not therefore enter the lists with you. The steed 
 which with difficulty drags along his car, although he reaches the 
 goal in course of time, cannot compete with the fiery engine on the 
 railway. The skill which produces verses only line by line cannot 
 enter into competition with the wholesale powers of machinery. 
 
 " ' Thus, my muse declares herself vanquished beforehand ; and 
 I authorise you to publish her declaration. 
 
 " e I am, Sir, your most obedient servant, 
 
 "'Jacques Jasmin. 
 
 " f P.S. Now that you understand the muse, in two words you 
 may understand the man also. I love glory ; but the success of 
 another never disturbs my slumbers. 5 55 # 
 
 One of the most touching and characteristic episodes 
 in the life of Jasmin was the successful effort he made in 
 behalf of the Church of Yergt. The excellent incumbent 
 of the parish, seeing his church in ruins, and the zeal of 
 his flock flagging, in 1843 besought Jasmin to aid him 
 by making a tour of recitations, and devoting the money 
 thus obtained to the restoration of the church. Jasmin 
 yielded at once to the request. , 
 
 " The church needed me/' said he, in the address he 
 delivered in aid of the desired fund, " and her priest has 
 
 chosen me I well recollect how she found 
 
 me naked, and clothed me, when I was little. Now that 
 1 am a man I find her naked, and it is my turn to cover 
 her." 
 
 * Saintefceuve. 
 
/ JACQUES JASMIN. 51 
 
 Jasmin, accompanied by the priest, went from town to 
 town, and, five months after his first appeal for help, the 
 church of Vergt was consecrated by six bishops, in the 
 presence of three hundred priests and more than fifteen 
 thousand persons of all ranks assembled to witness the 
 ceremony. Jasmin was there ; and had prepared for the 
 occasion a poem, breathing the noblest sentiments, entitled, 
 " The Priest without a Church ; " in which he demon- 
 strated the happy influence which a beautiful edifice, 
 appropriated to the worship of God, exerts on the imagi- 
 native temperaments of the South. 
 
 The whole day had been occupied by religious ser- 
 vices, and there was barely time for dinner. The Arch- 
 bishop of Mieims, who had consecrated the restored 
 church, addressing Jasmin, said, " Poet, I have been 
 informed that you have written something in honour of 
 this occcasion. We shall be glad if you will entrust it 
 this evening to some one before you go." " To some one, 
 my lord!" answered Jasmin; "do you think my muse 
 has laboured a whole fortnight, night and day, only to 
 take ' some one ' into her confidence, when the festival 
 has arrived? To-day has been devoted to the celebration 
 of Religion at Vergt, and to the celebration of Poesy also, 
 whom Religion inspires, and who loves her in return. The 
 Church has six high priests here — Poesy has but one sub- 
 deacon ; but he must chant his hymn officially, or carry 
 it away unread and unheard." The Archbishop, who was 
 a man of feeling, and understood the temperament of 
 poets, promised that he would try to make an opening 
 for the poem between cheese and coffee. " But," said he, 
 " you will have a powerful rival in the coffee." " He will 
 be vanquished, my lord," replied Jasmin. 
 
 Dessert was on the table. There was not a moment to 
 
 e 2 
 
52 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 lose, for the two hundred and fifty guests were on the point 
 of leaving. The Bishop of Tulle, M. Berteaud, who was to 
 preach the consecration sermon, had already slipped away 
 to prepare himself. He was called back. Jasmin began his 
 recitation. One fact will suffice to prove his success. M. 
 Berteaud, who had intended preaching upon the Infinity 
 of God, after hearing the poet, changed his text ; he 
 announced, at the commencement of his sermon, that he 
 should preach upon the " Priest without a Church," and 
 enlarge upon the subject already so happily sketched by 
 another.* 
 
 One more incident we must relate: — In 1840, Jasmin 
 met at Toulouse a young lady, then in prosperity, who, 
 as he expressed it, "had married her rich music to his 
 poor songs." Three years later, misfortune overwhelmed 
 her family, and filial piety led her to turn her talents to 
 pecuniary account. Jasmin did for her what he had 
 done for the priest of Yergt ; he gave a course of recita- 
 tions in her behalf, and the enthusiasm with which the 
 poet seemed to rejoice in obtaining an opportunity for 
 reciting his compositions, was but one more proof of his 
 delicacy of feeling. 
 
 Regarded as essentially the Poet of the People, Jasmin 
 has shown himself worthy of that distinction. In all 
 his writings he has sought to soothe, to purify, and 
 to elevate. He has never pandered to the passions of the 
 mob, or flattered the prejudices of the ignorant. There 
 is scarcely a town in the South of France which has not 
 heard his voice raised in behalf of the poor ; yet he has 
 never uttered one word to set them at enmity with the 
 rich. It has been his aim to encourage mutual bene- 
 volence and forbearance ; and, amid the political storms 
 * Saintebeuve. 
 
JACQUES JASMIN. 53 
 
 which have shaken France to her foundation, Jasmin's 
 noble sentiments, breathing sympathy with the unfor- 
 tunate, but justice towards all, were like oil upon the 
 troubled waters. It has been well said by one of his 
 countrymen, " If France possessed ten poets like Jasmin, 
 ten poets with his influence, she would have no need to 
 fear revolutions." As an example both of his language 
 and the feeling which animated his writings, we will cite 
 a few lines from the poem with which he acknowledged 
 a prize of honour decreed to him by the French Academy. 
 This specimen, especially in our translation made from 
 the French, which is itself a translation, falls far short of 
 the beauty of Jasmin's poetry generally ; but we have 
 been compelled to select it as the only passage in the 
 original to which we have access. It is entitled, " The 
 French Language, and the Gascon Language " (by the 
 latter, he signifies that in which he writes), and treats 
 prophetically of their happy union. Melted into one, he 
 thus apostrophises them — 
 
 " Lengo del ciel, lengo aymado, 
 Toun trioumphe es benezit ! 
 Saoubo la terra empenado ; 
 Adretis Tamo et Pesprit." 
 
 " heavenly tongue ! beloved speech ! 
 Thy triumph is blessed ; 
 Save the earth that has gone astray ; 
 Set her right both in heart and spirit." 
 
 " Multiply/' he continues, " new gifts, without destroying the 
 old ; teach us to navigate the air, to fly across the bosom of the 
 waters ; make the nations neighbourly by railroads ; cure every 
 woe ; render the Cross supreme ; allay the passions of men, and 
 secure the happiness of all." 
 
 Jasmin's adherence to his original calling — that of 
 
54 OUK EXEMPLAKS. 
 
 .barber and hairdresser — proceeds from no mock-modesty, 
 nor from undervaluing the splendid gifts with which God 
 has endowed him ; indeed, in his out-spoken abhorrence 
 of hypocritical self-depreciation, he has been heard to say 
 that there are only four Frenchmen who are poets — 
 Corneille, Lafontaine, Beranger, and Jasmin. Neither 
 has it resulted from lack of public appreciation of his 
 genius. Besides his periodical recitations, which are a 
 series of triumphal progresses, and his elections to mem- 
 bership in many literary societies, Toulouse has sent him 
 a golden laurel wreath; the citizens of Auch a golden 
 cup ; Pau a service of china. From Louis Philippe aud 
 the Duke and Duchess of Orleans he also received many 
 presents. He was created by M. de Salvandy when 
 Minister (himself a distinguished orator) a knight of the 
 Legion of Honour — that order, admission to which, while 
 open to the humblest man in France, is coveted no less 
 by her sons of noble birth and highest distinction. 
 
 Jasmin, then, while he attracts our admiration by 
 his powers as a poet, fixes it for ever by the still rarer 
 quality of mind which teaches him that no honest labour, 
 however humble, can degrade the labourer ; and that the 
 man of lowly origin, who dignifies the class in which he 
 was born, by sharing with it the honours he achieves, and 
 thus raises it with himself, confers a greater benefit upon 
 society than he who, soaring upwards, may dazzle the 
 world by the brilliancy of his career, but abandons the 
 ranks from which he sprang to their original obscurity. 
 
 Having thus completed our notice of the life of 
 Jasmin, according to our plan as first contemplated, it 
 occurred to us that information respecting this remark- 
 
JACQUES JASMIN. 55 
 
 able man, up to the very date at which we wrote, would 
 be interesting to our readers, and, resolved to procure 
 it from the fountain-head, we wrote to the poet himself. 
 A. very courteous answer speedily arrived ; not, however, 
 from Jasmin, but from his nephew, a bookseller at Agen, 
 who, in his letter, dated March loth, 1860, says : — 
 
 " I am the depositary of my uncle Jasmin's works, and it con- 
 sequently devolves upon me to reply to inquiries during his 
 absence — a circumstance which often arises, owing to the frequent , 
 tours he undertakes in compliance with the numerous appeals of 
 charity. I know that my uncle would have much pleasure in 
 acceding to your gratifying request, and I have impatientty awaited 
 his return ; but I have just learnt that it will yet be three weeks 
 b3fore he reaches home from a tour in the departments of Gers and 
 of Gironde. 
 
 " I have, therefore, resolved to forward the information you 
 desire, which I am equally able with himself to supply, as it pos- 
 sesses the authenticity of history in this neighbourhood. 
 
 w I proceed to relate the most remarkable events which have 
 occurred since 1851, in a life at once so dramatically and so poet- 
 ically devoted to charity. 
 
 " On the 20th August, 1852, the Trench Academy formally 
 decreed, in public assembly, to his poems, the grand prize of 
 honour — c the extraordinary prize,' as it was denominated, f of 
 5,000 francs' (£200), and through its secretary, M. Yillemain, 
 declared him to be f The Moral and Popular Poet.' 
 
 " In 1853, my uncle Jasmin thanked the Prench Academy in 
 a poem — of course, in the Eomance language * He became quite 
 the fashion in Paris, where he gave, in the drawing-rooms of the 
 aristocracy, eighty recitations, which were so many triumphs. 
 
 " One of these recitations, my aunt Jasmin (who was present 
 at all of them) desires me to inform you, took place at the house of 
 Lady Elgin. The audience was entirely English, and among them 
 was one of the ladies of honour of Her Majesty the Queen of 
 England. The last of these recitations, which excited great atten- 
 tion, was delivered at St. Cloud, before their Majesties the Em- 
 
 * The poem from which we have quoted, p. 53. 
 
56 
 
 OUK EXEMPLARS. 
 
 peror and Empress, and their court. The Emperor exclaimed, 
 wiping his eyes, as the whole audience were doing, c Poet, make us 
 laugh now ; for really we have done nothing but use our hand- 
 kerchiefs.' (See the newspapers of the day.) 
 
 "Upon the 1st January, 1854, the Revue des deux Mondes 
 [' Eeview of Both Worlds :' a review published fortnightly at Paris, 
 and which occupies a similar position to that of the Edinburgh or 
 Quarterly in England], published his portrait, with a sixth article 
 upon his works ; and the Academy of Moral Games at Toulouse 
 accorded to him by acclamation the title of Master of the Ploral 
 Games.* 
 
 " The crowds who nocked to receive him as Master rendered 
 this an ovation worthy of ancient times. 
 
 "In August, 1856, the Pope created him Knight of the Ponti- 
 fical Order of Gregory the Great. 
 
 " On the 26th November, 1856, Agen, his native town, in full 
 and solemn assembly, placed upon his head, by the hand of Monsieur 
 Noubel, mayor and deputy, a crown of gold, which had been decreed 
 to him by more than 6,000 voters of all ranks, but among whom 
 the people predominated. This mark of honour, so justly granted 
 and so well deserved, proved an exception to the proverb that ' No 
 one is a prophet in his own country ! ' 
 
 " On the 16th May, 1857, the city of Bordeaux launched a fine 
 clipper, named the e Town of Agen ;' its poop was adorned with a 
 symbolic statue of my uncle Jasmin, twelve feet high, holding a 
 lyre, and with the golden crown upon its head. In the front of 
 the vessel were flying two pennons, inscribed, the one, c Francon- 
 nette,' the other, c La Caritat,' the titles of two of Jasmin's poems. 
 
 " These incidents occur to me as the most noteworthy since 
 1851. If I attempted to enumerate all his successes and triumphs 
 I should never finish. The total of the sums which he has, by the 
 
 * "This Aeademy, established at Toulouse, distributes prizes yearly 
 to the author of the best poem submitted to its decision. It is the most 
 ancient, as it is also one of the most celebrated of the literary institu- 
 tions of Europe. It dates from the beginning of the 14th century, when 
 it was founded at Toulouse under the name of the College of Entertain- 
 ing Pursuits. About 1500 it was rendered permanent by the liberality 
 of Clemence Isaure. Louis XIV. erected it into an Academy in 1694." , 
 — Dictionnaire NationaU. — Ed. 
 
JACQUES JASMIN. 57 
 
 exercise of his muse, been able to obtain for charitable purposes, 
 amounts to 700,000 francs [£28,000]. I should, however, mention 
 that, in order to complete the church of Vergt,* which bears his 
 name inscribed upon the facade, because it is he who has almost 
 entirely supplied the funds for rebuilding it, he, during the months 
 of January, February, March, and April of last year (1859), made 
 a tour through Dijon, Macon, St. Etienne, Bourg, Villefranche, 
 and Lyons. The result was most successful, and the great and 
 populous city of Lyons feted him by acclamation. On the 15th of 
 April, 1859, in compliance with the request of the patrons and 
 patronesses of the Orphan Asylum of Notre Dame des Arts, and 
 on behalf of that institution, he delivered a recitation, before a 
 large audience, at the Hotel du Louvre. This was his first public 
 recitation in Paris. All the metropolitan journals made known 
 his triumph, and V Illustration [a weekly publication, resembling 
 our Illustrated News'] of the 16th April, 1859, gave a woodcut 
 representing the scene. 
 
 Ci And now a further triumph has just crowned all that have 
 gone before. No popular edition of his works existed ; M. Firmin 
 Didot [an eminent French publisher] has undertaken one. The 
 work is already begun, and within two months his poems, now in 
 three large volumes, will appear compressed into one, handsomely 
 printed, and with a literal French translation side by side with the 
 original; the price will be four francs instead of eighteen. 
 
 " I suppose you have already mentioned that in 1840 Toulouse 
 voted him a golden laurel crown, Auch a golden cup in 1841, and 
 Yilleveuve-sur-Lot a golden seal, sculptured by Froment Meurice." 
 
 We turn to the number of the Revue des deux Mondes 
 indicated by our correspondent, and find a portrait (a very 
 rare incident in this Review, and a striking proof, there- 
 fore, of the interest excited by Jasmin), which accords 
 well with the description of the personal appearance of 
 the poet already given \ together with an elaborate and 
 careful criticism of his writings, as collected by M. Rou- 
 menille, in an edition of Provencale poetry, to which he 
 
 See page 50. 
 
58 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 himself — a journeyman printer — is no mean contributor. 
 The article contains, also, anecdotes of Jasmin's life, 
 which, that chronological order in our biography may be 
 preserved, we have inserted in their proper places. We 
 conclude our notice of this gifted and estimable man in 
 the words of the reviewer : — 
 
 "Having attained to a celebrity peculiar to himself by the 
 exercise of extraordinary natural gifts, the first in Prance at the 
 present day, among those who are recognised as interpreting for 
 the people, in the language of the people, may he continue to find, 
 as be has already done on so many occasions, his happiness in the 
 favour eagerly accorded to both the man and the poet ; at once 
 honouring himself by this consecration of his life and his genius 
 to the noblest purposes, and giving expression, in a form alike 
 original and piquant, to the lively and impulsive characteristics of 
 a southern land." 
 
59 
 
 JOHN BMYAK 
 
 AVe have compiled this memoir from Southey's Life of 
 John Bunyan, prefixed to his edition of the "Pilgrim's 
 Progress," London, Murray, 1830; and from Lord 
 Macaulay's Biographies contributed to the " Encyclo- 
 paedia Britannica," Edinburgh, A. and C. Black, 1854. 
 Both pieces are charming compositions, and we earnestly 
 recommend them to our readers. They might be profit- 
 ably studied for their matter, independently of their style, 
 and for their style, independently of their matter. The 
 different points of view from which the subject was re- 
 garded by these eminent writers produce diversities of 
 opinion, which may be usefully compared. 
 
 John Bunyan, author of the " Pilgrim's Progress," was 
 born in the year 1628, at Elstow, near Bedford. Of his 
 childhood little is known. His father was a tinker, and 
 John himself says his family was of that rank that is 
 " meanest and most despised." Nevertheless, the mean- 
 ness of the father's rank did not prevent him from sending 
 his son to school, where he was taught to read and write, 
 " according to the rate of other poor men's children," in 
 an age when the sons of working men rarely acquired 
 those arts. Bunyan' s father was not a travelling tinker, 
 but lived in a settled home, and brought up his son to 
 follow his own calling. 
 
 It has been the custom to consider Bunyan in his youth 
 as a very wicked person — a "brand snatched from the 
 burning." This has arisen from his own description of 
 himself ; not, however, of his crimes, for there is no reason 
 to suppose he committed any, but because in the workings 
 
60 * OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 of his mind during his search for religious truth, of which 
 he has left a most vivid and interesting narrative, he con- 
 tinually speaks of himself as if he had been the greatest 
 of reprobates. 
 
 Macaulay says, "The four chief sins of which he 
 was guilty, were dancing, ringing the bells of the parish 
 church, playing at tip-cat, and reading the ' History of 
 Sir Bevis of Southampton.' " 
 
 One charge which he makes against himself is of a 
 graver kind — a habit of profane swearing, commenced in 
 childhood, though even then not indulged in without 
 remorse ; for he says, that when he was but nine or ten 
 years old he had terrible dreams of devils, and spirits 
 who tried to draw him away with them. The remorse 
 and horror produced by these dreams, however, did not 
 enable him to overcome the habit; it strengthened as 
 he grew up to manhood — he indeed calls himself a " town- 
 sinner," though there is no reason to suppose he deserved 
 any such appellation. And even in what he considered 
 his wickedest days, he does not deny that he was shocked 
 by hypocrisy, feeling an especial aversion to those who, 
 while professing to be governed by religious principles, 
 would commit acts unworthy of a Christian. 
 
 Notwithstanding Bunyan's opinion of his own vicious 
 conduct, a "Rector of the School of Laud," says Ma- 
 caulay, " would have held such a young man up to the 
 whole parish as a model. But Bunyan's notions of good 
 and evil had been learned in a very different school, and 
 he was made miserable by the conflict between his tastes 
 and his scruples." 
 
 Had Bunyan left us details as minute of his material 
 life, as he has of the history of his mind, his biography 
 would have been complete indeed. Of the former, how- 
 
JOHN BUNYAN. 61 
 
 ever, lie speaks but little, and therefore the records we 
 possess of his actions are very few. 
 
 As a youth he was a soldier in the Parliamentary 
 army, and served, says Macaulay, "during the decisive 
 campaign of 1645," though scarcely anything is known of 
 his military career. He married before he was nineteen. 
 Southey tells us that his wife brought him for her por- 
 tion two books, which her father had left her at his 
 death. " The Plain Man's Pathway to Heaven" was one, 
 the other was the "Practice of Piety," "of which more 
 than fifty editions were published in the course of a 
 hundred years. These books Bunyan sometimes read with 
 her ; and though they did not, he says, reach his heart 
 to awaken it, yet they did beget within him some desires 
 to reform his vicious life, and made him fall in eagerly 
 with the religion of the times, go to church twice a-day 
 with the foremost, and there very devoutly say and sing 
 as others did ; yet, according to his own account, retaining 
 his wicked life." 
 
 At the time of his marriage, Bunyan was a sound 
 churchman — a Puritan churchman, that is. This sect 
 arose very soon after the Reformation, and acquired 
 the name of Puritan, from the objection its followers 
 made to certain ceremonies in our church, as being 
 too much like those in that of Pome. The name, sup- 
 posed to have been first applied as a term of derision to 
 men among the clergy who disapproved of clerical vest- 
 ments, very soon spread to the laity. A small and feeble 
 sect at first, the Puritans increased gradually in numbers 
 and influence, until, about the year 1644, they rose to the 
 zenith of their power. They had been able to pass an 
 Act in the House of Commons, which prohibited the use 
 of the Liturgy either in churches or families. "They 
 
62 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 interdicted," says Macaulay, " under heavy penalties, the 
 use of the Book of Common Prayer, not only in churches 
 but even in private houses. It was a crime for a child to 
 read by the bed-side of a sick parent one of those beautiful 
 collects which had soothed the griefs of forty generations 
 of Christians." * The prayers were left to the discretion 
 of the minister of each church. 
 
 Bunyan was a great admirer of the Liturgical form of 
 worship ; " he could have laid down at the feet of a priest," 
 he says, " and have been trampled on by them ; their name, 
 their garb, and work did so intoxicate and bewitch him."t 
 Up to this time Bunyan had been in the habit of amusing 
 himself with playing at games on Sundays ; he afterwards 
 accounted it one of his great sins. But playing on the 
 Sunday was the common mode of passing that day, 
 until the Puritans had gained sufficient power to force 
 the people to submit to what they considered a proper 
 observance of the day of rest. The strict manner in 
 which it is now kept had no existence ; and Bunyan had 
 been, probably brought up to consider amusing himself 
 on a Sunday as much a thing of course as eating his 
 dinner. However, "one day the minister preached against 
 Sabbath-breaking, and Bunyan fell in conscience under 
 that sermon, verily believing it was intended for him, 
 and feeling what guilt was, which he could not remember 
 that he had ever felt before. Home he went, with a 
 great burthen on his spirit ; but dinner removed that 
 burthen ; his animal spirits recovered from their depres- 
 sion ; he shook the sermon out of his mind, and away he I 
 went, with great delight, to his old sports. "J But only I 
 for a short time ; his sense of guilt returned. " And now I 
 
 * Macaulay's * History of England,' vol. i. s p. 160. 
 f Southey's Life. % Ibid. 
 
JOHN BUNYAN. 63 
 
 his inind — excitable by nature, very imperfectly disci- 
 plined by education, and exposed, without any protection, 
 to the infectious virulence of the enthusiasm which was 
 then epidemic in England — began to be fearfully dis- 
 ordered."* This was the commencement of that dreadful 
 mental straggle, so long and so terrible, that it is won- 
 derful the sanity of his mind was not permanently 
 injured. 
 
 His first fear was that his " Sabbath-breaking " had 
 certainly deprived him of all hopes of salvation ; then he 
 thought that he might be as wicked as he pleased, since 
 he was inevitably damned. " This state lasted with him 
 little more than a month ; it then happened that as he 
 stood at a neighbour's shop-window, ' cursing and swearing, 
 and playing the madman,' after his wonted manner, the 
 woman of the house heard him ; and though she was 
 (Bunyan says) a very loose and ungodly wretch, she told 
 him that he made her tremble to hear him ; 6 that he was 
 the ungodliest fellow for swearing that ever she heard in 
 all her life ; and that by thus doing he was able to spoil all 
 the youth in the whole town if they came but in his com- 
 pany.' The reproof came with more effect than if it had 
 come from a better person : it silenced him, and put him 
 
 -ecret shame, and that, too, as he thought, ' before the 
 God of heaven ; wherefore,' he says, 6 while I stood there, 
 and hanging down my head, I wished with all my heart 
 that I might be a little child again, that my father might 
 learn me to speak without this wicked way of swearing ; 
 for, thought I, I am so accustomed to it, that it is in vain 
 for me to think of a reformation.' From that hour, how- 
 ever, the reformation of this, the only actual sin to which 
 he was addicted, began. Even to his own wonder it took 
 * Macaulay's Biograph}*. 
 

 
 64 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 place ; and he, who till then had not known how to speak 
 unless he put an oath before and another behind, to make 
 his words have authority, discovered that he could speak 
 better and more pleasantly without such expletives than 
 he had ever done before." * 
 
 Soon after this he met with a man, whose conversation 
 led him to study the Bible, in which he began to take great 
 pleasure, especially in the historical parts. His behaviour 
 seemed quite changed, and for a time his mind was at ease. 
 
 Bell-ringing had been a very favourite amusement of 
 Bunyan's ; but now he began to think it wrong, and gave 
 it up. Being, however, very fond, of the exercise, he 
 used sometimes to go to look at the ringers, not, how- 
 ever, quite easy in his conscience that it was becoming 
 to the religious character which he now professed. " A 
 fear came upon him that one of the bells might fall ; to 
 secure himself against such an accident, he stood under a 
 beam that lay athwart the steeple from side to side ; but 
 his apprehensions being once awakened, he then con- 
 sidered that the bell might fall with a swing, hit the wall 
 first, rebound, and so strike him in its descent. Upon 
 this he retired to the steeple door, thinking himself safe 
 enough there, for if the bell should fall, he could slip out. 
 Further than the door he did not venture, nor did he long 
 continue to think himself secure there ; for the next fancy 
 which possessed him was that the steeple itself might 
 fall; and this so possessed him and so shook his mind, that 
 he dared not stand at the door longer, but fled for fear 
 the tower should come down upon him." t The last amuse- 
 ment he gave up was dancing, but it was a year " before 
 he could quite leave that." In relinquishing these plea- 
 sures, and in doing anything he considered his duty, he 
 
 * Southey's Life. f Ibid. 
 
JOHN BUN Y AN. 65 
 
 derived so much satisfaction that he thought " no man 
 in England could please God better than he." Never- 
 theless, in after years he considered that at that time he 
 was only deceiving himself in fancying he was righteous. 
 
 The next circumstance recorded is his reading some of 
 the Ranters' books which fell into his hands, and per- 
 plexed without convincing him. " One day when he was 
 tinkering in the streets of Bedford, he overheard three 
 or four poor women who> as they sate at a door in the 
 sunshine, were conversing about their own spiritual state. 
 He was himself ' a brisk talker in the matter of religion,' 
 but these persons were, in their discourse, ' far above his 
 reach.' Their talk was about a new birth, — how they 
 were convinced of their miserable state by nature^ — how 
 God had visited their souls with his love in the Lord 
 Jesus, — with what words and promises they had been 
 refreshed and supported against the temptations of the 
 Devil." * 
 
 Bunyan was delighted with their conversation, and 
 when he turned from them to his employment again 
 " their talk went with him, for he had heard enough to 
 convince him that he ' wanted the true tokens of a true 
 godly man,' and to convince him also of the blessed con- 
 dition of him that was indeed one." The women to 
 whom he had listened were members of a small Baptist 
 congregation, and from this time Bunyan often sought 
 their society, which led him again to read his Bible. 
 This time, however, he paid especial attention to the 
 Epistles. Now he was seized with a fear that he was 
 not " elected," that the day of grace was passed — a text 
 in Romans having excited these alarms. These fears 
 tormented him for weeks, till he lighted upon one he had 
 * Southey's Life. 
 
 F 
 
66 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 long sought, and at length found in the Apocrypha. By 
 this his mind was relieved of the first doubt ; but, alas ! 
 the second " awoke again in strength," and brought back 
 all his misery. Another text, however, is found which, 
 for a time, calms him : alas ! only for a time. Other 
 fears arose, and Bunyan was as wretched as ever. At 
 length, a text he happened to hear in a sermon soothed 
 him, and for a few days he was comforted, but only to be 
 again assailed, and, this time, with a new fear. " Temp- 
 tations of a different and even more distressful kind 
 assailed him now, — blasphemies and suggestions of unbe- 
 lief, which, when he recorded the history of his own soul, 
 he might not and dared not utter, either by word or pen; 
 and no other shadow of consolation could he find against 
 them than in the consciousness that there was something 
 in him that gave no consent to the sin. He thought 
 himself surely possessed by the Devil ; he was ' bound in 
 the wings of the temptation, and the wind would carry him 
 away.' When he heard others talk of the sin against the 
 Holy Ghost, discoursing what it might be, ' then would 
 the Tempter,' he says, ' provoke me to desire to sin that 
 sin, that I was as if I could not, must not, neither should 
 be quiet until I had committed it ; no sin would serve 
 but that. If it were to be committed by speaking of such 
 a word, then I have been as if my mouth would have 
 spoken that word whether I would or no. And in so 
 strong a measure was this temptation upon me, that often 
 I have been ready to clap my hands under my chin to 
 hold my mouth from opening ; and to that end also I have 
 had thoughts at other times to leap, with my head down- 
 ward, into some muckhill-hole or other, to keep my 
 mouth from speaking.' " * This miserable state lasted 
 * Southey's Life. 
 
JOHN BUNYAN. 67 
 
 about a year, and he always felt " most distracted when 
 attending the service of his meeting, or reading the 
 Scriptures, or when in prayer. He imagined that at such 
 times he felt the enemy behind him pulling his clothes ; 
 that he was continually at him to have done — ' break 
 off — make haste — you have prayed enough.' The more 
 Bunyan strove to compose his mind and fix it upon 
 God, the more did the Tempter labour to distract and 
 confound it, c by presenting,' says he, l to my heart and 
 fancy the form of a bush, a bull, a besom, or the like, 
 as if I should pray to these. To these he would also (at 
 some times, especially) so hold my mind that I was as if 
 I could think of nothing else, or pray to nothing else but 
 to these, or such as they.' " * 
 
 Again, however, comfort arrived. He found several 
 texts which relieved his mind : among them, " If God be 
 for us, who can be against us?"f "Because I live, ye 
 shall live also." % " These," Bunyan says, were " but 
 hints, touches, and short visits ; very sweet when present, 
 only they lasted not." Yet after awhile he felt himself 
 not only delivered from the guilt which these things laid 
 upon his conscience, " but also from the very filth 
 thereof;" the temptation was removed, and he thought 
 himself " put into his right mind again." 
 
 But he was assailed once more. Now he fancied he 
 was tempted to sell Christ for the things of this life. A 
 voice appeared to sound in his ears, " Sell him, sell him, 
 sell him." For a year was he haunted with this horrible 
 fancy • and though he combated it with might and main, 
 it seemed to him, one day, as if he had answered the voice 
 by consenting to the sin. Then, alas ! he thought himself 
 lost indeed — he had, like Esau, sold his birthright ; like 
 
 * Southey's Life. f Romans viii. 31. J John xiv. 19. 
 
 f2 
 
68 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 Peter, denied his Master ; or, worse than either, like Judas, 
 had betrayed his Saviour. Now were his torments at 
 their worst ; " he found no place of repentance, though 
 he sought it carefully with tears." Comfort, however, 
 dawned upon him, but again departed, and he was tossed 
 between hope and fear. At last, however, one day, when 
 at meeting, the words for which he had longed, but 
 which, he feared, could never apply to him, " ' broke in ' 
 upon him, ' My grace is sufficient for thee,'" repeated 
 three times. " It sent him mourning home ; it broke his 
 heart, and filled him with joy, and laid him low as the 
 dust."' Now he ventured to examine those texts of Scrip- 
 ture which had before seemed to doom him to everlast- 
 ing punishment. He found they did not bear that 
 dreadful construction, and that he might truly repent, 
 and hope for pardon. Then did his recovery begin in 
 earnest ; and, after two years and a half " incessant 
 agitation and wretchedness," he gradually regained his 
 peace of mind. 
 
 Perhaps Bunyan would have suffered less could he 
 have explained his doubts to some person of sufficient 
 education and mental training to clear them up, and 
 thus remove the fancies which tormented him. But 
 he had everything to do for himself, and only regained 
 his composure after he had brought his own mind to rea- 
 son on the horrible fears which assailed his imagination. 
 And, perhaps, he owes the position which he reached to 
 this period of suffering ; for the means he was forced to 
 use to escape from his misery, gave him the education 
 and training that he lacked. 
 
 He diligently studied the Bible. Foxe's "Book of 
 Martyrs" (which contains a thrilling narrative of the suf- 
 ferings of the early reformers) was his next favourite. 
 
JOHN BUN Y AN. 69 
 
 Southey tells us that " Bunyan' s own copy of this work is 
 in existence, and valued, of course, as such a relic of such 
 a man ought to be. In each volume he has written his 
 name in a large, stout, print hand ; and under some of 
 the woodcuts he has inserted a few rhymes, which are un- 
 doubtedly of his own composition." Southey also says 
 that although resembling verses in the " Pilgrim's Pro- 
 gress," they are "very much worse than the worst of 
 those." But it is only just to Bunyan to show " from how 
 gross and deplorable a state of ignorance that intellect 
 which produced the c Pilgrim's Progress ' worked its way." 
 In 1655 the pastor of the little Baptist congregation 
 to which Bunyan belonged died, and the next year a 
 resolution was passed: — "That 'some of the brethren 
 (one at a time), to whom the Lord may have given a gift, 
 be called forth, and encouraged to speak a word in the 
 church for mutual edification.' Bunyan was one of the 
 persons so called upom" He began modestly, as he tells 
 us, with " much weakness and infirmity." Gradually his 
 ministration drew many hearers to the little Baptist 
 Meeting, some to discover what it could be that had pro- 
 duced so great a change in the once swearing tinker. 
 This, however, did not make him vain. He did not dare 
 at first to "make use of his gift in a public way," but 
 gradually exercised himself in his new calling, as oppor- 
 tunity offered. In time, he was "encouraged by the ap- 
 probation with which others heard him " to preach more 
 publicly, " not only to and amongst them that believed, 
 but also to offer the Gospel to those who had not yet re- 
 ceived the faith thereof." This is what Southey calls a 
 " roving commission " to travel through the villages sur- 
 rounding Bedford, addressing any who chose to listen ; 
 and he was so much occupied, that, on being " nomi- 
 

 70 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 nated " a deacon at Bedford, the congregation refused to 
 elect him, on the ground that he had no time to fulfil 
 the duties of the office. 
 
 Practice in preaching had now overcome Bunyan's 
 diffidence, and he. felt "a secret pricking forward" to 
 the ministry; not, however, "for desire of vain-glory," 
 for even now he was often unhappy about his own 
 state, "but because the Scriptures encouraged him, by 
 texts which ran continually in his mind, whereby ' I 
 was made to see,' he says, 'that the Holy Ghost never 
 intended that men who have gifts and abilities should 
 bury them in the earth, but rather did command and stir 
 up such to the exercise of their gift, and also did command 
 those that were apt and ready so to do.' "* His gift must 
 have been considerable; for it is said that hundreds 
 flocked to hear him. 
 
 In Bunyan's early sermons, he tried to work on the 
 fears of his audience. He preached, he says, "what he 
 felt." "He went himself in chains to preach to them in 
 chains ;" but afterwards, when his own mind was in a 
 happier frame, his teachings were more in accordance with 
 that spirit of gentle persuasion which pervades the- Gospel. 
 During this part of his career, he earned his bread by 
 working at his trade, also finding time to write a 
 pamphlet, in which he attacked some of the doctrines 
 held by the Quakers, at the same time vindicating his 
 own, assailed by persons of that sect, who had attended 
 Bunyan's meeting for this purpose. This his first literary 
 effort was printed, with a letter prefixed to it by his 
 pastor Burton, praising the performance, and " bidding 
 the reader not to be offended, because the treasure of the 
 Gospel was held forth to him in a poor earthen vessel by 
 Southey's Life. 
 
JOHN BUNYAN. 71 
 
 one who had neither the greatness nor the wisdom of this 
 world to commend him." His pamphlet produced a 
 most violent reply, in which Bunyan was reproached with 
 " making merchandise of souls," and "loving the wages 
 of unrighteousness," He rejoined in a much calmer 
 and more dignified manner. Against the accusation of 
 making a merchandise of souls, he says, " For though I 
 be poor and of no repute in the world as to outward 
 things, yet this grace I. have learned, by the example of 
 the apostle, to preach the truth, and also to work with 
 my hands, both for mine own living and for those that 
 are with me, when I have opportunity. And I trust 
 that the Lord Jesus, who hath helped me to reject the 
 wages of unrighteousness hitherto, will also help me still, 
 so that I shall distribute that which God hath given me 
 freely, and not for filthy lucre's sake." Bunyan' s oppo- 
 nent, however, only replied by reiterating his accusations 
 in a second pamphlet, to w^hich no answer was made ; 
 for, though "it pleased him much," as Bunyan tells us, 
 " to ' contend with great earnestness for the word of faith, 
 and the remission of sins by the death and sufferings of 
 our Saviour,' he had no liking for controversy;" his work 
 lay " in another channel ;" he desired to awaken religious 
 feeling among those who were "like the beasts that 
 perish." 
 
 In the year 1657 an indictment was preferred against 
 Bunyan for preaching at Luton, in Bedfordshire, we 
 suppose, because he was an unordained minister ; for 
 though by law every religious denomination was at 
 liberty to worship in the manner most accordant to their 
 feelings, yet between the different sects there was no 
 toleration, and, if it lay in their power so to do, they all 
 persecuted each other. The prosecution, however, fell to 
 
I 
 
 72 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 the ground, and Bunyan had nothing worse to bear than 
 verbal abuse and hard names ; if these did not in- 
 terfere with his preaching, they probably gave him 
 but little concern. A second indictment, after the 
 restoration of Charles II., brought much more severe 
 treatment. The country was unsettled, and the Govern- 
 ment, by its harsh measures against Dissenters, instead 
 of calming, only increased the discontent. " A warrant 
 was issued against Bunyan, as if he had been a dangerous 
 person, because he went about preaching. This office was 
 deemed (and well it might be, thinks Mr. Southey) in- 
 compatible with his calling. He was known to be hostile 
 to the restored Church, and probably it might be remem- 
 bered that he had served in the Parliament's army." 
 
 He was arrested at a meeting in a private house, and 
 though he knew of what was about to take place he did 
 not absent himself, lest " such conduct on his part should 
 make an ' ill savour in the country,' and because he was 
 resolved ' to see the utmost of what they could say or do 
 to him.' " He was taken before a justice of the peace, 
 who required him to find sureties. These were forth- 
 coming ; but when Bunyan heard that they must forfeit 
 their bonds if he preached again, he refused his liberty 
 on these terms. " While his mittimus was making out, in 
 consequence of this determination, one whom he calls an 
 old enemy of the truth entered into discourse with him, 
 and said he had read of one Alexander the coppersmith 
 who troubled the apostles ; ' aiming, 'tis like, at me,' says 
 Bunyan, ' because I was a tinker ;' to which I answered, 
 that I also had read of priests and Pharisees that had 
 their hands in the blood of our Lord. ' Aye,' was the 
 rejoinder, ' and you are one of those Pharisees, for you 
 make long prayers to devour widows' houses.' £ I an- 
 
JOHN BUNYAN. 73 
 
 swered,' says Bunyan, 'that if lie had gpt no more by 
 preaching and praying than I had done, he would not be 
 so rich as he now was.' "* 
 
 Bunyan chose to remain in prison rather than consent 
 to desist from doing what he considered his duty ; and at 
 the sessions, seven weeks after, was indicted as a person 
 who " devilishly and perniciously abstained from coming 
 to church to hear divine service, and who was a common 
 upholder of several unlawful meetings and conventicles, 
 to the great disturbance and distraction of the good sub- 
 jects of this kingdom." Those were sad times, when a 
 poor tinker was prosecuted for preaching in a chapel 
 instead of going to a church. Bunyan defended himself 
 by maintaining, that he was a frequenter of the Church 
 of God, though not of the parish church, there being no 
 injunction in the Scriptures requiring such attendance ; 
 that he was ordered to pray, but not by the Common 
 Prayer Book. " They that have a mind to use it," he 
 said, " they have their liberty ; " we can pray to God 
 without it. He was told by the Court that he ought 
 not to preach. In reply, he offered to prove that it was 
 lawful for him and such as him to preach, and quoted 
 the apostle's words, "As every man hath received the 
 gift, even so let him minister the same unto another." 
 "Let me a little open that Scripture to you," said the 
 magistrate. " 'As every man hath received his gift ;' that 
 is, as every man hath received a trade, so let him follow 
 it. If any man have received a gift of tinkering, as thou 
 hast done, let him follow his tinkering ; and so other men 
 their trades, and the divine his calling." Bunyan, how- 
 ever, maintained, and rightly so, that the gift of which 
 the apostle spoke was a spiritual gift. The magistrate 
 * Southey's Life. 
 
74 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 replied that men might exhort, if they pleased, in their 
 families, but not otherwise. Bunyan rejoined, that if it 
 were a good thing to exhort our families, it was good to 
 exhort others ; and if it were held a sin for them to meet 
 together and seek the face of God, and exhort one another 
 to follow Christ, he would sin still. " You confess the 
 indictment, then ? " said the magistrate. John replied 
 that he confessed to having had many meetings to exhort 
 one another, and nothing more. " ' Hear your judgment !' 
 exclaimed the Court. i You must be had back again to 
 prison, and there lie for three months following; and at 
 three months' end, if you do not submit to go to church 
 to hear divine service, and leave your preaching, you must 
 be banished the realm. And if after such a day as shall 
 be appointed you to be gone, you shall be found in this 
 realm, or be found to come over again without special 
 license from the king, you must stretch by the neck for 
 it : I tell you plainly.' Bunyan resolutely answered, 
 6 that if he were out of prison to-day, he would preach 
 the Gospel again to-morrow, by the help of God.' " * 
 He was taken to prison. Doubtless the justices thought 
 confinement the best way of inducing him to submit to 
 their conditions. But so stout a man as Bunyan, imbued 
 as he was with the spirit of the martyrs, whose lives he 
 had studied in Foxe's book, would not quail before impri- 
 sonment, or even death itself. At the end of three 
 months he was as firm as before, and refused to quit the 
 prison, notwithstanding that he was told he "might 
 exhort his neighbours in private discourse, if he did not 
 call together an assembly of the people." 
 
 The coronation of Charles II. taking place soon after- 
 wards, a proclamation was issued by which all accused per- 
 * Southey's Life. 
 
JOHN BUNYAN. 75 
 
 sons were permitted to sue out a pardon within twelve 
 months from that date. This put an end to any further 
 proceedings against Bunyan, and at the next assizes held 
 at Bedford his wife presented to the judges a petition, 
 praying them to take his case into consideration. 
 
 " Sir Matthew Hale was one of these judges, and ex- 
 pressed a wish to serve her if he could, but a fear that he 
 could do her no good ; and being assured by one of the 
 justices that Bunyan had been convicted, and was a hot- 
 spirited fellow, he waived the matter. But the High 
 Sheriff, however, encouraged the poor woman to make 
 another effort for her husband before they left the town ; 
 and, accordingly, 'with a bashed face, and a trembling 
 heart,' she entered the Swan Chamber, where the two 
 judges and many magistrates and gentry of the country 
 were in company together. Trembling, however, as she 
 was, Elizabeth Bunyan had imbibed something of her 
 husband's spirit. She had been to London to petition the 
 House of Lords in his behalf, and had been told by one 
 whom she calls Lord Bark wood that they could do no- 
 thing, but that his releasement was committed to the 
 judges at these next assizes. ' And now, I am come to 
 you,' she said, i and you give neither releasement nor 
 relief ! ' And she complained to Hale that he was kept 
 unlawfully in prison, * for the indictment was false, and he 
 was clapped up before there were any proclamations 
 against the meetings.' One of the judges then said he 
 had been lawfully convicted. ' It is false,' replied the 
 woman ; ' for when they said to him, do you confess the 
 indictment ? he said only this, that he had been at several 
 meetings, both when there was preaching the Word and 
 prayer, and that they had God's presence among them.' 
 ' Will your husband leave preaching ? ' said Judge Twis- 
 
76 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 den ; ' if lie will do so, tlien send for him.' i My lord,' 
 said she, 'he dares not leave preaching as long as he 
 can speak.' " The judges were not induced to give 
 Bunyan ' his liberty by this ; but Sir Matthew Hale 
 " listened sadly when she told him that there were four 
 small children by the former wife, one of them blind ; 
 that they had nothing to live upon while their father 
 was in prison, but the charity of good people ; and that 
 .she herself ' smayed ' at the news when her husband 
 was apprehended, being but young and unaccustomed to 
 such things, fell in labour, and continuing in it for eight 
 days, was delivered of a dead child. ' Alas, poor woman !' 
 said Hale. But Twisden said ' poverty was her cloak, for 
 he understood her husband was better maintained by 
 running up and down a-preaching, than by following his 
 calling.' Sir Matthew asked what was his calling, and 
 was told that he was a tinker. ' Yes,' observed the wife ; 
 \ and because he is a tinker and a poor man, therefore he 
 is despised, and cannot have justice.' The scene ended 
 in Sir Matthew's mildly telling her he was sorry he could 
 do her no good ; that what her husband had said was taken 
 for a conviction, and that there was no other course for her 
 than either to apply to the king, or sue out his pardon, 
 
 or get a writ of error, which would be the cheapest 
 
 Elizabeth Bunyan concludes her account by saying, c This 
 I remember, that though I was somewhat timorous at my 
 first entrance into the chamber, yet before I went out I 
 could not but break forth into tears ; not so much because 
 they were so hard-hearted against me and my husband, 
 but to think what a sad account such poor creatures will 
 have to give at the coming of the Lord.'' " * 
 
 Bunyan remained in prison, as it does not appear that 
 * Southej's Life. 
 
JOHN BUNYAN. 77 
 
 any further steps were taken at that time to effect his 
 release ; but his confinement was not severe. " For he had 
 fortunately a friend in the jailor, and was somewhat ISke^ 
 a prisoner at large, being allowed to go whither he would, 
 and return when he thought proper.' 1 He was able to 
 attend his own meeting — " was often out in the night ; and 
 it is said, indeed, that many of the Baptist congregations 
 in Bedfordshire owe their origin to his midnight preach- 
 ing." He tells us " he followed his wonted course, taking all 
 occasions to visit the people of God, exhorting them to be 
 steadfast in the faith of Jesus Christ, and to take heed that 
 they touched not the Common Prayer." Bunyan even went 
 as far as London to see the " Christians " there, by which 
 he meant the Baptists. But for this laxity the jailor nearly 
 lost his place, and Bunyan was obliged, as he remarks, 
 " not now to look out of the door." Southey considers that 
 Bunyan s enforced quietude at this time, though hard 
 to bear, was, in reality, an advantage to him. It removed 
 him, " high-minded and hot-minded," from " a course 
 of dangerous activity, in which he was as little likely to 
 acquire a tolerant spirit as to impart it." In confinement 
 " his understanding had leisure to ripen and to cool," 
 which " was no less favourable for his moral and religious 
 nature than it has ultimately proved to his usefulness 
 and his fame." 
 
 Bunyan' s admiration of the conduct of the martyrs, in 
 Foxe's book, enabled him to take their spirit of endur- 
 ance as his model, but this was not done without a 
 struggle. In the early part of his imprisonment he had 
 some reason to expect that he would be hanged, and he 
 feared that he was not in a fit state to die — nor that he 
 could suffer death, if it came, with courage ; dreading lest, 
 " if I should make a scrambling shift to clamber up the 
 
 
1 
 
 
 78 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 ladder, yet I should either with quaking, or other symp- 
 toms of fainting, give occasion to the enemy to reproach 
 the way of God, and his people for their timorousness." 
 
 He says he was " so possessed with the thought of 
 death," that he was oft as if on a ladder with a rope 
 about his neck. His only " encouragement " was, that 
 if obliged to die, he should have an opportunity of speak- 
 ing his last words to the multitude who would come to 
 see his execution ; and that if only one soul were con- 
 verted, he should not count his life as thrown away. But 
 still the idea of what might become of him after death, 
 was fearful ; and he was tossed about for weeks by this 
 dread, till at last comfort came in the consideration which 
 "fell with weight upon me, that it was for the word 
 and way of God that I was in this condition ; wherefore, 
 I was engaged not to flinch an hair's breadth from it." 
 Nor would he have flinched if the hour of need had come 
 upon him. Bunyan thought all these fears were tempta- 
 tions of the devil ; they, however, only show that his was 
 not the mere animal courage which dares danger or 
 trial without reflection — he felt fear of death, but he con- 
 quered his fear by strong effort, because he knew that his 
 duty required it of him. But it was not only fear of 
 death with which he had to struggle, for he says, " The 
 parting with my wife and poor children hath often been to 
 me in this place as the pulling the flesh from the bones ; and | 
 that not only because I am somewhat too fond of these 
 great mercies, but also because I should have often brought 
 to my mind the many hardships, miseries, and wants that 
 my poor family was like to meet with, should I be taken 
 from them ; especially my poor blind child, who lay nearer ; 
 my heart than all besides. Oh, the thoughts of the hard- 
 ships I thought my poor blind one might go under, would 
 
JOHN BUNYAN. 79 
 
 break my heart to pieces ! Poor child ! thought I, what 
 sorrow art thou like to have for thy portion in this world ! 
 Thou must be beaten; must beg; suffer hunger, cold, 
 nakedness, and a thousand calamities, though I cannot 
 now endure the wind should blow upon thee ! But yet, 
 recalling myself, thought I, I must venture you all with 
 God, though it goeth to the quick to leave you. Oh, I 
 saw, in this condition, I was a man who was pulling down 
 his house upon the heads of his wife and children ; yet, 
 thought I, I must do it, I must do it ! And now I 
 thought on those two milch kine that were to carry the 
 Ark of God into another country,* and to leave their 
 calves behind them." t 
 
 These fears left him when he found no further pro- 
 ceedings taken against him. Still he must think how to 
 support his little ones, now he could no longer follow his 
 calling; and we find that he was allowed to learn the 
 manufacture of thread laces, by the sale of which he 
 managed to earn bread for his children during his im- 
 prisonment. He was never harshly treated ; the jailor 
 is said to have committed the other prisoners to Bunyan's 
 care, and, during the last four years of his captivity, he 
 regularly attended the meetings of his congregation, and 
 in the eleventh year was chosen their pastor — the duties 
 of which office he had sufficient liberty to fulfil. 
 
 After twelve years of imprisonment, "he owed his 
 complete liberation to one of the worst acts of one of the 
 worst governments that England has ever seen. In 1671, 
 the Cabal was in power. Charles II. had concluded the 
 treaty by which he bound himself to set up the Roman 
 Catholic religion in England. The first step which he 
 took towards that end was to annul, by an unconstitu- 
 * 1 Samuel vi. 10. t Souther's Life. 
 
80 OUK EXEMPLAES. 
 
 tional exercise of his prerogative, all the penal statutes 
 against the Roman Catholics, and in order to disguise his 
 real design, he annulled at the same time the penal 
 statutes against Protestant Nonconformists. Bunyan was, 
 consequently, set at large." * The exact time and method 
 of his release is not known. Southey thinks that some 
 influence was used with the king to liberate him. " His 
 character had by this time gained respect," and "his 
 books had attracted notice ; and Dr. Barlow, Bishop of 
 Lincoln, and other churchmen, are said to have pitied 
 ' his hard and unreasonable sufferings, so as to stand very 
 much his friend in procuring his enlargement.' " Owen, 
 too, the great Nonconformist divine — who, made dean 
 of Christ Church, at Oxford, by Oliver Cromwell, had 
 been deprived of his office at the Restoration, and though 
 offered church preferment by Clarendon, Charles II.'s Lord 
 Chancellor, declined all favours that he could not accept 
 without conforming to laws of which he did not approve 
 — "greatly admired Bunyan's preaching;" and, it is 
 said, on " being asked by Charles i how a learned man, 
 such as he, could sit and listen to an illiterate tinker,' 
 replied, 'May it please your Majesty, could I possess 
 that tinker's abilities for preaching, I would most gladly 
 relinquish all my learning.' " 
 
 The sixteen years which elapsed between his release 
 from prison arid his death, passed smoothly, and were, 
 doubtless, the happiest of Bunyan's life. He had, by his 
 boldness in asserting his right, and his firmness in bear- 
 ing the consequences of such assertion, acquired universal 
 respect and admiration ; and he was now at liberty to 
 follow that occupation he loved best, and for which, by 
 nature, he was well fitted. 
 
 * Macaulay's Biography. 
 
JOHN BUNYAN. 81 
 
 Born and bred a tinker, he had, by his own unaided 
 efforts, raised himself to be not only the pastor of the 
 Bedford congregation, but a favourite preacher in London. 
 Here the consciousness of well-deserved success, combined 
 with more mature thought, and greater experience of life, 
 had, in his later years, the effect of lessening the fire of 
 his zeal, without diminishing his firmness. His opinions 
 with regard to communion were very rigid. On infant 
 baptism he differed from others of his own sect, and was 
 attacked by them on this point. Some of his opponents, 
 however orthodox their opinions, displayed but little Chris- 
 tian charity, when they twitted him with his low origin 
 as a disgrace. " Throughout this controversy, Bunyan 
 appears to great advantage, as a meek, good man, beyond 
 the general spirit of his age in toleration, and far beyond 
 that of his fellow-sectarians. His was, indeed, so catholic a 
 spirit that, though circumstances had made him a sectarian, 
 he liked not to be called by the denomination of his sect. 
 ' I know none,' says he, i to whom that title is so proper 
 as to the disciples of John. And since you would know 
 by what name I would be distinguished from others, I tell 
 you I would be, and hope I am, a Christian, and choose, 
 if God should count me worthy, to be called a Christian, 
 a Believer, or other such name which is approved by the 
 Holy Ghost. And as for those factious titles of Anabap- 
 tists, Independents, Presbyterians, or the like, I conclude 
 that they come neither from Jerusalem, nor from Antioch, 
 but rather from hell and Babylon ; for they naturally tend 
 to divisions. You may know them by their fruits.' " * 
 
 But little is known of Bunyan s later years. Some of 
 his biographers think he did not escape persecution in the 
 latter part of Charles II.' s reign. But Southey considers 
 * Southey \s Life. 
 
 G 
 

 
 82 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 that this could hardly be so, or some account of his per- 
 secution would have been preserved. In Bedford, where 
 he was well known, he most probably was treated with 
 indulgence, but at other places " he would be exposed to 
 the same risk as other nonconforming preachers ; and there 
 is a tradition among the Baptists at Reading that he 
 sometimes went through that town, dressed like a carter, 
 with a long whip in his hand, to avoid detection." 
 
 Macaulay considers that this tradition — but to whict 
 he gives more weight than to mere tradition — refers tc 
 the year 1685, when the Rebellion, headed by the Duke 
 of Monmouth, "gave the Government [of James II.] a 
 pretext for persecuting the Nonconformists." 
 
 James II. granted an indulgence to the Dissenters 
 which permitted them more liberty in their mode of wor- 
 ship than they had .enjoyed during his brother Charles's 
 reign ; but many — among whom was Bunyan — suspected 
 this was only done in order that, with their assistance, 
 the king might lay prostrate the Church of England, 
 and erect that of Rome in its stead ; and that, after 
 having duped them for his own purposes, he would 
 treat them more harshly than before. " Bunyan 
 laboured zealously with his congregation, 'to prevent 
 their being imposed on in that kind ; and when a great 
 man, in those days, coming to Bedford, sent for him (as 
 was supposed) to give him a place of public trust, he 
 would by no means come at him, but sent his excuse.' "* 
 
 Bunyan' s death was caused by a cold, caught in re- 
 turning from Reading to London, where he had been to 
 see a friend of his who resided there, and who had 
 resolved to disinherit his son. " The young man re- 
 quested Bunyan to interfere in his behalf; he did so 
 * Southey's Life. 
 
JOHN BUNYAN. 83 
 
 with good success, and it was his last labour of love \ 
 for, returning to London on horseback, through heavy 
 rain, a fever ensued, which, after ten days, proved fatal." 
 He died on the 12th of August, 1688, aged sixty-nine, and 
 was interred in Bunhill Fields burial-ground. "It is 
 said many (Dissenters) have made it their desire to be 
 interred as near as possible to the spot where his remains 
 are deposited." * 
 
 Though Bunyan never became rich, he seems to have 
 
 been enabled to support his family in respectability and 
 
 I comfort. u He was too wise and too religious a man to 
 
 ( desire riches, either for himself or his children. When a 
 
 wealthy London citizen offered to take one of his sons as 
 
 an apprentice without a premium, he declined the friendly 
 
 and advantageous offer, saying — ' God did not send me 
 
 ; to advance my family, but to preach the Gospel.' No 
 
 doubt he saw something in the business itself, or in the 
 
 way of life to which it led, unfavourable to the moral 
 
 character." f 
 
 Bunyan left three children behind him — his blind 
 daughter having died before her father. His son was a 
 member of his father's congregation, and an occasional 
 preacher. The last of his posterity about whom anything 
 is recorded, is his great grand- daughter, Hannah Bunyan, 
 who was buried in 1760, at the age of seventy-six. In 
 person, Bunyan was tall, his complexion ruddy, with a 
 high forehead, a well-set nose, and red hair : his habit was 
 always " plain and modest." 
 
 Southey tells us that Mr. Whitbread, the father of 
 
 the distinguished member of Parliament, " was so great 
 
 an admirer of Bunyan, that he left, by will, five hundred 
 
 \ pounds to the meeting at Bedford, expressly as a token of 
 
 * Southey's Life. f Hid. 
 
 G 2 
 

 84 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 respect for his memory — the interest to be distributed 
 annually in bread to the poor of that meeting, between 
 Michaelmas and Christmas." 
 
 It would, we think, have been a better tribute to the 
 memory of Bunyan to have left the money for a school, 
 than to give it for a dole of bread, which, to say the least 
 of it, has a tendency to pauperise the receivers. 
 
 When Bunyan s pulpit Bible was to be sold, Mr. 
 Whitbread, the son, "gave a commission to bid as much 
 for it as the bidder thought his father, had he been 
 living, would have given for a relic which he would have 
 valued so highly. It was bought accordingly for twenty 
 guineas." 
 
 Bunyan has left a considerable number of tracts, 
 chiefly controversial. His writings were generally 
 " mild, tolerant, and charitable." The work which has 
 made his name immortal is the "Pilgrim's Progress." 
 It was written during his imprisonment, and published 
 soon after his release ; but in what year is not exactly 
 known. 
 
 " The history of that book is remarkable. The author 
 was, as he tells us, writing a treatise, in which he had 
 occasion to speak of the stages of the Christian progress. 
 He compared that progress, as many others had compared 
 it, to a pilgrimage. Soon his quick wit discovered in- 
 numerable points of similarity which had escaped his pre- 
 decessors. Images came crowding on his mind faster than 
 he could put them into words ; quagmires and pits, steep 
 hills, dark and horrible glens, soft vales, sunny pastures, a 
 gloomy castle, of which the courtyard was strewn with 
 the skulls and bones of murdered prisoners ; a town, all 
 bustle and splendour, like London on the Lord Mayor's 
 day, and the narrow path, straight as a rule eould make 
 
JOHN BU^YAX. 85 
 
 it, running on, up hill and down hill, through city and 
 through wilderness, to the Black River and the Shining 
 Gate. He had found out, as most people would have 
 said, by accident — as he would doubtless have said, by 
 the guidance of Providence — where his powers lay. 
 He had no suspicion, indeed, that he was producing 
 a masterpiece. He could not guess what place his 
 allegory would occupy in English literature ; for of 
 
 English literature he knew nothing The 
 
 only work of fiction, in all probability, with which he 
 could compare his ' Pilgrim,' was his old favourite, the 
 legend of Sir Bevis of Southampton. He would have 
 thought it a sin to borrow any time from the serious 
 business of his life, from his expositions, his controversies, 
 and his lace-tags, for the purpose of amusing himself with 
 what he considered merely as a trifle. It was only, he 
 ires us, at spare moments that he returned to the 
 ' house Beautiful/ the ' delectable mountains,' and the 
 'enchanted ground.' He had no assistance. Nobody but 
 himself saw a line, till the whole was complete. He 
 then consulted his pious friends. Some were pleased. 
 Others were much scandalised. It was a vain story 
 a mere romance about giants and lions, and goblins 
 and warriors, sometimes fighting with monsters, and 
 sometimes regaled by fair ladies in stately palaces. 
 The loose, atheistical wits at Wills' [coffee-house] might 
 write such stuff to divert the painted Jezebels of the 
 court ; but did it become a minister of the Gospel to 
 copy the evil fashions of the world ? There had been a 
 time when the cant of such fools would have made 
 Bunyan miserable. But that time was passed, and his 
 mind was now in a firm and healthy state. He saw 
 that, in employing fiction to make truth clear and gocd- 
 
86 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 ness attractive, lie was only following the example which 
 every Christian ought to propose to himself; and he 
 determined to print. "* Ten editions appeared during 
 the author's life, and it was translated into several foreign 
 languages ; and the first part (Giant Pope being omitted) 
 has been published in " Le Petit Bibliotheque Catholique" 
 [" The Catholic Juvenile Library"]. When the work be- 
 came very popular, much trash was printed by dishonest 
 booksellers, to which Bunyan's name was appended, but 
 which he never wrote ; and "envious scribblers" said it 
 was impossible that the " Pilgrim's Progress" could be the 
 work of an ignorant tinker. Bunyan took the best way 
 of confounding his enemies: he published the second 
 part of the "Pilgrim's Progress" in 1684. "It was soon 
 followed by the ' Holy War,' which, if the ' Pilgrim's 
 Progress' did not exist, would be the best allegory that 
 ever was written. "f Bunyan's great work has been a 
 popular book ever since it was published — now nearly two 
 hundred years ago — and its popularity is likely to endure 
 as long as English continues to be spoken. But though 
 Bunyan achieved so great a reputation, and his work has 
 been so eminently popular, it is only of late years that he 
 has been appreciated by a class who, to use the language 
 of Cowper, profess the reputation of " gentility." Bunyan 
 was a tinker and a Dissenter, therefore he could not be 
 genteel ; and in the following beautiful lines, addressed to 
 him by that poet, his name is concealed, lest it " should 
 move a sneer": — 
 
 " Oh ! thou whom, borne on Fancy's eager wing 
 Back to the season of life's happy Spring, 
 T pleas'd remember, and while mem'ry yet 
 Holds fast her office here, can ne'er forget ; 
 
 * Macaulay's Biography. f MM* 
 
JOHN BUN Y AN. 87 
 
 Ingenious dreamer, in whose well-told tale 
 
 Sweet truth and sweet fiction alike prevail ; 
 
 "Whose hum'rous vein, strong sense, and simple style 
 
 May teach the gayest, make the gravest smile ; 
 
 Witty, and well employed, and, like thy Lord, 
 
 Speaking in parables his slighted word, 
 
 I name thee not, lest so despised a name 
 
 Should move a sneer at thy deserved fame ; 
 
 Yet, e'en in transitory life's late day, 
 
 That mingles all my brown with sober gray, 
 
 Revere the man whose ' Pilgrim' marks the road, 
 
 And guides the 'progress 1 of the soul to God." 
 
 In the seventy years which have elapsed since Cowper 
 wrote these lines, a change has come over us, and we are 
 beginning to acknowledge that no disgrace attaches to a 
 man on account of his origin, however low or mean that 
 may be. The higher he can raise himself above it, the 
 more he is now felt to deserve our admiration and respect. 
 
 In testimony of this improvement, we will conclude 
 our memoir of Bunyan with a further notice of him, by 
 the lamented Macaulay, in the great work which, alas ! 
 he will never complete : — 
 
 " To the names of Baxter and Howe must be added 
 the name of a man far below them in station and in 
 acquired knowledge ; but in virtue their equal, and in 
 
 genius their superior — John Bunyan 
 
 Bunyan is, indeed, as decidedly the first of allegorists 
 As Demosthenes is the first of orators, or Shakespeare 
 the first of dramatists. Other allegorists have shown 
 equal ingenuity; but no allegorist has ever been able 
 to touch the heart, and to make abstractions objects 
 of terror, of pity, and of love ! " 
 
THE KING OF PORTUGAL. 
 
 To some of our readers it may seem inappropriate that 
 we should place among these memoirs that of a king, and 
 a king, too, who peaceably inherited his throne. But we 
 all know from experience that monarchs have it largely 
 in their power to do either good or evil to their subjects, 
 and we think the sequel will show that the present sove- 
 reign of Portugal has, though still a very young man, 
 made extraordinary use of his opportunities for the benefit 
 of his people. 
 
 If the great ones of the earth have an advantage over 
 their humbler brethren in being supplied with tutors and 
 books in profusion, whereby the paths of duty and true 
 happiness- are pointed out to them from their earliest 
 years, yet it must be owned that they are also surrounded 
 by temptations to indolence and self-indulgence, from 
 which their inferiors in station are exempt. Nor must 
 it be forgotten, that whatever course of life they may 
 select, flatterers will not be absent to applaud and justify 
 their choice. Therefore, although the lot of those who 
 are born in indigence, and whose natural protectors and 
 teachers are disqualified by ignorance, and the habits con- 
 nected with it, from giving wholesome instruction to their 
 offspring, either by precept or by example, may be still 
 more adverse to the acquirement of the will and the 
 power to perform deeds of benevolence, yet the education 
 of a Court must, perhaps, ever be inferior to that which 
 will be generally obtained in the ranks lying between the 
 two extremes. 
 
THE KING OF PORTUGAL. 89 
 
 Don Pedro V., son of Donna Maria da Gloria, the 
 late Queen of Portugal, became king on the death of his 
 mother in 1853, but as he was still a minor he did not 
 Mime the government of his kingdom until 1855. Of 
 his childhood we know little, but we believe he was 
 brought up in a quiet and simple manner. 
 
 In September, 1857, the yellow fever broke out in 
 Ins capital, and raged for three months, carrying off a 
 large number of the inhabitants ; in some quarters as 
 many as two-thirds. The immediate cause of the fever 
 is supposed to have been the arrival of a cargo of putrid 
 cattle hides, brought from Brazil, which, it is said, caused 
 instant death to some of the men employed in unloading 
 the vessel in which they came. But whatever may have 
 been its origin, the sewerage of Lisbon was in so bad a 
 state as to promote inevitably the spread of the disease* 
 The defects in the drainage were remedied, to a consider- 
 able extent, as sodn as the fever abated. 
 
 Panic seized on the city ; all who could quit the place 
 of pestilence hurried away to the sea- side, or to the lovely 
 hills of Cintra, thus described by Lord Byron : — 
 
 " Lo ! Cintra's glorious Eden intervenes, 
 In variegated maze of mount and glen. 
 Ah me ! what hand can pencil guide, or pen, 
 To follow half on which the eye dilates, 
 Through views more dazzling unto mortal ken 
 Than those whereof such things the bard relates, 
 Who to the awe-struck world unlocked Elysium's gates ! 
 
 " The horrid crags by toppling convent crown'd, 
 The cork trees hoar that climb the shaggy steep, 
 The mountain moss by scorching skies embrown'd, 
 The sunken glen, whose sunless shrubs must weep, 
 The tender azure of the unruffled deep, 
 
90 OUK EXEMPLARS. 
 
 The orange tints that gild the greenest bough, 
 The torrents that from cliff to valley leap, 
 The vine on high, the willow branch below, 
 Mix'd in one mighty scene, with varied beauty glow." 
 
 Childe Harolde's Pilgrimage, Canto I. 
 
 Cintra was for a time the residence of our affluent 
 and somewhat prodigal fellow-countryman, Beckford, the 
 author of " Vathek" (an Eastern romance), who built a 
 palace there, which long mouldered in ruins, but when 
 we visited the spot in May, 1858, was about to be restored 
 by an English merchant. 
 
 " There thou, too, Yathek ! England's wealthiest son, 
 Once formed thy Paradise, as not aware 
 When wanton Wealth her mightiest deeds hath done, 
 Meek Peace voluptuous lures was ever wont to shun. 
 
 " Here didst thou dwell, here schemes of pleasure plan 
 Beneath yon mountain's ever-beauteous brow ; 
 But now, as if a thing unblest by man, 
 Thy fairy dwelling is as lone as thou ! 
 
 " Here giant weeds a passage scarce allow 
 To halls deserted, portals gaping wide : 
 Presh lessons to the thinking bosom, how 
 Yain are the pleasaunces on earth supplied ; 
 Swept into wrecks anon by Time's ungentle tide." 
 
 Ibid, Canto L* 
 To return to our narrative. 
 
 The king, who at the outbreak of the pestilence was 
 only twenty years old, felt it to be his duty to remain at 
 his capital, and do all he could towards mitigating the 
 calamity. To effect this object he did not confine him- 
 self to presiding over councils or to discussing means of 
 alleviation in his cabinet ; he went himself among the 
 sick. We were told that he would continually visit the 
 
 * See, also, Beckford's ( Italy, with Sketches of Spain and Portugal.' 
 
THE. KING OF PORTUGAL. 91 
 
 hospitals both by day and night, coming in a hired street 
 carriage, with a single companion, that he might prevent 
 any preparations for his reception, and ascertain for him- 
 self in what manner the patients were treated. 
 
 On one occasion, it is said, he found a medical man 
 feeling the pulse of his patient with his glove on, hoping 
 thereby to escape contagion. We may imagine the king's 
 indignant reproof to the timorous doctor. At another 
 time the spectacle was more gratifying. He was just 
 entering a ward when he heard a physician trying to 
 reassure a patient, who was in a drooping state, with 
 kind and soothing words. Don Pedro remained outside 
 until the doctor had ceased speaking, when he entered, 
 extending his hand towards him. The physician, recog- 
 nising his sovereign, attempted to go down upon his 
 knee, and kiss the hand thus held out. " No," said the 
 king ; " you have behaved like a brother to that poor, 
 sick man, and I am proud to shake hands with you." 
 
 The benefit the king conferred on the sick by his 
 constant supervision of the hospitals must have been 
 incalculable. But he did not confine his efforts to 
 visiting these institutions. The fever was more fatal to 
 persons in the prime of life than to children, and many 
 families were suddenly left orphans. The king was inde- 
 fatigable in establishing a refuge for these poor little 
 creatures. It was recorded that a thousand children 
 were deprived of their parents by the ravages of that 
 terrible disease. The panic, which the dread of infection 
 spread among the citizens, was all but universal. Don 
 Pedro, hoping in some measure to allay the alarm of his 
 subjects, and restore them to a calmer frame of mind, 
 went frequently to the opera during the visitation. If it 
 be considered that in a time of such distress, when people 
 
92 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 were dying in great numbers every day, visits to the 
 opera might be discontinued with great propriety, we 
 must recollect that the singers, musicians, and all other 
 persons employed in a theatre required their salaries for 
 their support rather more than less at that particular 
 time. Besides, persons under the influence of a terror 
 such as we have described, could hardly be persuaded 
 to do anything for the sick ; and the king could, per- 
 haps, have taken no better means for diverting their 
 thoughts from the danger by which they were surrounded. 
 His Majesty, it is said, prior to the epidemic, was not 
 very popular j not that he was positively disliked, but his 
 people regarded him with indifference. His courage and 
 self-devotion have, however, won the love and respect 
 of the Portuguese nation. 
 
 The king is a young man of honest mind and pur- 
 pose, desiring to act uprightly, and do justice to all. 
 Portuguese ministers have not been much accustomed to 
 this spirit in their sovereigns. Let us hope that the 
 confidence he has so well earned may enable the king 
 to conduct his government with the integrity which 
 accords with his character. 
 
 Don Pedro has several younger brothers and sisters. 
 They all remained during the time of the fever at their 
 palace, on an elevated spot in Lisbon, and not one of 
 them took the disease. Whether they would have thus 
 happily escaped had their residence been in the lower 
 part of the city, it is impossible to say (Lisbon covers the 
 hi] Is which rise from the shores of the Tagus, and also 
 their interesting valleys ; and on the heights the fever 
 was much less severe than below) ; but the king, who 
 visited every part of his capital, encountered all risk. 
 
 His Majesty is a great lover of flowers, and in the 
 
THE KING OF PORTUGAL. 93 
 
 public gardens of his metropolis they grow in luxuriant 
 profusion. There we saw, in the month of April, flowers 
 in full blossom in the open air, which, in England, are 
 generally preserved in greenhouses — some of the plants 
 attaining to a gigantic size. In the South, spring-time is 
 the season of floral beauty ; the heats of summer, when 
 it hardly ever rains, destroy it ; but here the gardens 
 flourish during the hottest weather, because the king 
 has them most carefully watered. The public are at 
 perfect liberty to frequent these delightful retreats ; and 
 though the flowers are not protected, no one thinks of 
 plucking them. Even forest trees require to be watered 
 in this climate, and consequently each is cinctured with 
 a paved trough or gutter, connected by a channel with 
 the troughs of the other trees. 
 
 Lord Byron tells us that it was by no means safe, 
 when he visited the Portuguese metropolis, in 1809, 
 to walk in its streets unarmed, even in daylight. 
 Times are much improved since then. When we were 
 there, we found the streets of Lisbon quite as safe as 
 those of London. The city wore a very lively appearance 
 during our sojourn. "We were met at every turn by 
 preparations for the reception of the king's bride, the 
 Princess Stephanie of Hohenzollern, who had been already 
 married to him by proxy, in Berlin, and was then on her 
 voyage to Lisbon. She passed through England, remain- 
 ing a short time on a visit to our Queen, and won all 
 hearts by the charm of her manners and conversation. 
 
 1^ is curious to remark, that Don Pedro heard of his 
 marriage a quarter of an hour before it took place — at 
 least, the telegram, announcing the completion of the 
 ceremony, reached Lisbon a quarter of an hour earlier 
 than the time of its date at Berlin. This paradox is 
 

 94 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 explained by the relative positions of these two cities 
 on the globe — the former being twenty-five degrees 
 westward of the latter ; consequently, the same instant 
 of time finds the sun at Berlin one hour and forty minutes 
 in advance of its progress at Lisbon. 
 
 A mournfully brief interval separated the rejoicings 
 which welcomed the arrival of this young and blooming 
 princess and her lamented death. She was carried off 
 by diphtheria, in June, 1859. Surely, the bereaved 
 husband must command the sympathy for himself which 
 he has shown to the misfortunes of others ! 
 
95 
 
 BRIDGET BURKE. 
 
 The subject of our present memoir is of humble birth, 
 and has worked for her livelihood in domestic service; 
 yet she deserves a high place among our self-raised women. 
 Possessing no means of her own but those earned by her 
 labour, she has nevertheless, by her zeal and energy, 
 rescued a large number of unhappy young women from 
 the miserable condition into which they had sunk, either 
 from their own weakness in yielding to temptation, or 
 from the unprotected state in which loss of friends or 
 other misfortunes had placed them. 
 
 Bridget Burke, whose maiden name was Meares, was 
 born during the latter half of the last century at Athlone. 
 Her parents were respectable members of the working 
 class. From her earliest years she was remarkable for 
 sincere and humble piety. Her disposition, naturally 
 cheerful and kindly, led her to use the gentle art of per- 
 suasion, rather than reproach, in her endeavours to lead 
 back the wandering into the paths of virtue, 
 
 Bridget was married early in life to a currier of her 
 native town, with whom she lived in comfort and respect- 
 ability till his death, which took place not many years 
 after their marriage. As there was no provision for the 
 widow, she was obliged to go to service to support 
 herself and her child. She became cook in the family of 
 Mrs. Colville, a Presbyterian lady in Dublin, with whom 
 she lived for twenty-five years, and in whose house she 
 brought up her daughter. After leaving this family she 
 became a monthly nurse, an employment which she has 
 only recently relinquished. 
 
96 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 It was not till she had reached middle life that her 
 attention was turned to the poor outcasts in whose 
 reformation she was afterwards to take so active a part. 
 Indeed, until she became particularly interested in them, 
 she had always regarded such persons with an indefinable 
 dread, and shrank with nervous timidity whenever she 
 encountered one in the streets. 
 
 A poor family, to whom Bridget was much attached, 
 had emigrated to America, leaving behind two young 
 daughters, from want of sufficient money to pay their 
 passage ; their intention being to send for them as soon as 
 they could spare enough to bring them out. Bridget 
 was warmly attached to the girls, and watched over 
 their welfare with tender care. As soon as they were 
 old enough to work, she procured employment for them 
 in one of the Dublin factories ; and though the distance 
 of her master s house from the quarter in which they 
 were employed, and the duties of her situation, pre- 
 vented her from seeing them very frequently, she did all 
 that lay in her power to induce them to be industrious 
 and well-conducted. In course of time the elder sister 
 married ; the younger continuing at the factory. At 
 length Bridget was alarmed by reports of levity in 
 the behaviour of the latter. She spoke on the subject 
 to the married sister, but for some time could only elicit 
 evasive answers. She insisted upon knowing the truth, 
 and was then told, with a burst of tears, that the 
 younger sister (Ellen by name) had left the factoiy, and 
 was at that time staying in a house in Exchequer-street. 
 The disclosure of the spot convinced Bridget of the 
 girl's fallen condition, and notwithstanding her instinctive 
 dread of the persons with whom Ellen was associating, 
 she insisted on going at once with the sister to seek her. 
 
BRIDGET BURKE. ' 97 
 
 Arrived at the house, however, all her fears returned, 
 and she waited on the other side of the street while 
 the sister went to find Ellen and bring her out. 
 The sister, after speaking at the door to a young, pretty, 
 delicate-looking girl, beckoned to Bridget to come over. 
 When she had crossed the street, she was told by 
 the girl that Ellen, who shared her apartment, was 
 ill in bed ; but that if she would go up to her, she 
 might rely on seeing nothing which would annoy her. 
 The good woman followed her guide up-stairs ; but 
 no sooner had she entered the room, than Ellen started 
 up in a paroxysm of rage and shame, tearing her hair 
 and striking the bed with frantic violencej accusing 
 her sister of having betrayed her to the only person 
 whose good opinion she valued. "Now that was de- 
 stroyed, she would care for nothing, and never be vir- 
 tuous again." Bridget, after allowing Ellen to exhaust 
 her passion, sat down by her bed and besought her, in 
 the kindest and most soothing manner, to leave that 
 place, and to return to a virtuous life, promising her that 
 the past should be forgotten. But her pleadings were of 
 no avail ; the unfortunate girl, maddened by exposure to 
 the only person whom she respected, turned a deaf ear to 
 all Bridget's persuasions. Her poor companion in mis- 
 fortune burst into tears, crying — " Oh, Ellen I do go with 
 your good friend, and your sister. If I had such an offer, 
 how gladly I'd accept it. If I'd a home, I wouldn't be 
 the miserable and degraded wretch I am now." When 
 her tears had subsided, Bridget turned to her and asked 
 if she was sincere in her wishes for amendment. " Oh, 
 yes!" answered the penitent. "Then," said Bridget, 
 "come to me this evening, and I will find you some way of 
 leading a better life." And, having given her address, she 
 
 H 
 
yo . OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 left the house, unable, for the time, to produce any effect 
 on Ellen. But her efforts even there had not been in vain, 
 for some time afterwards Ellen abandoned her vicious 
 courses, and went to America with her sister and brother- 
 in-law. 
 
 In the evening, Bridget's fellow-servant, the butler, 
 came to tell her that a very wretched girl was asking for 
 her at the door. Overjoyed that the desire to amend 
 which the poor creature had expressed was sincere, she 
 hardly knew how, at that moment, to receive her, some 
 persons being in the kitchen whom she did not choose 
 should be present at the interview. The butler, Robert 
 Towson, seeing her difficulty, very good-naturedly offered 
 to invite the girl into his pantry. This man was a Pro- 
 testant, his fellow-servant a Catholic, but they could 
 heartily sympathise with each other in their desire to do 
 good j and Bridget speaks with great cordiality of his 
 kindness to her. 
 
 The poor girl, Maria, came into the pantry, where 
 the butler and Bridget questioned her, and believing, 
 from her answers, that she was sincere, but without any 
 money wherewith to procure a decent night's lodging, 
 the kind-hearted Robert gave her a shilling, that she 
 might not be obliged to return to the place she had left. 
 Her clothing was so thin, and the night so bitterly cold, 
 that Bridget wept at the thought of the poor creature's 
 exposure, and says that never till then had she regretted 
 the loss of her own home, in which she might have 
 sheltered her from the elements. She was obliged to 
 dismiss her, with the request that she would come again 
 the next evening, by which time she would have provided 
 a suitable lodging for her. 
 
 On the morrow Bridget found a home for Maria, with 
 
BRIDGET BURKE. 99 
 
 a steady and truly pious woman, in the neighbourhood, 
 and then consulted as to further steps with her confessor, 
 who was curate to the excellent Archbishop Murray. 
 He advised that her penitent should be placed under 
 the care of certain Sisters of Charity. These ladies 
 received her; and, after a sufficient probation in their 
 convent, she was restored to her friends — persons of great 
 respectability in the provinces. Maria had been brought 
 up by her grandfather, and it was supposed that his weak 
 indulgence had been one cause of her fall. Bridget 
 received from this gentleman a most grateful letter, 
 "thanking her for her charity to his erring child. 
 
 At this time (1821) there were two Magdalen Asylums 
 in Dublin, both founded by the exertions of Mr. Quarter- 
 man, an intimate friend of our worthy Bridget, and who 
 
 - consulted by her in every emergency ; for the know- 
 ledge of what she had done for Maria soon brought 
 others of the same class to seek her fostering care. 
 Together these good people collected, from friends and 
 from the servants of the families with whom our heroine's 
 master was intimate, and such others as she herself 
 knew, funds just sufficient to keep the poor creatures 
 from starving, until some provision could be made for 
 them ; and so careful was she of the money thus obtained, 
 and so anxious to make it serve for as large a number 
 
 i »ossible, that during the early period of her charitable 
 labours she often herself carried home the bundles of 
 w she had purchased for the beds of her protegees. 
 
 One evening Mr. Quarterman called upon her, and 
 told her it was time that they should try to obtain a 
 house of their own for their penitents. Alarmed at the 
 magnitude of this scheme, Bridget exclaimed, "But sure 
 we have no money." "We will have confidence in God 
 
 h 2 
 
100 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 and in the excellence of our object. Let us place it 
 under the protection of the blessed Trinity." And so 
 saying, he and Bridget knelt down and prayed devoutly 
 for a few moments. On rising Mr. Quarterman said, 
 "Here is my first instalment of a penny." We must 
 explain that institutions are constantly supported and 
 churches built, among the Roman Catholics of Ireland, by 
 penny subscriptions, raised among the working classes. 
 Bridget laid down a second penny. At that moment her 
 young daughter entered the kitchen. " Have you your 
 penny ready, Miss Anne V* said Mr. Quarterman. " No, 
 sir," she replied, " I have but a halfpenny." Her mother 
 said, " I will give you another ;" and with this small begin- 
 ning was their scheme set afloat. They zealously prosecuted 
 their enterprise. Young men and women were enlisted 
 as collectors, and their progress became so rapid that they 
 soon considered the receipt of a pound per week as a 
 small sum. Household servants were generous contri- 
 butors, and if they were absent from Dublin with their 
 employers, they either transmitted their subscriptions with 
 exemplary punctuality, or, if this were impossible, has- 
 tened, on their return, to pay up their arrears. As soon 
 as the two projectors had acquired a sufficient sum, they 
 ventured on taking a house, at a rent of twenty pounds 
 a-year. One of the first donations they received towards 
 their furnishing was a set of forms from an old Presby- 
 terian Chapel in course of re-erection. These were 
 contributed by Mr. Doolin, a builder, well known for 
 his kindly disposition and numerous charities, whose 
 sympathies the promoters of the Institution had been 
 fortunate enough to enlist. He remained their constant 
 benefactor, and was in the daily habit of bringing vege- 
 tables from his garden for the poor penitents as he drove 
 into Dublin. 
 
 
BRIDGET BURKE. 101 
 
 Bridget and her coadjutors proceeded for some time 
 very quietly with their new scheme. The Institution 
 was, of course, under the guidance of the Roman Catholic 
 clergy ; but until it was fairly launched, and there were 
 well-founded hopes of its being permanently successful, 
 it was thought not wise to place it publicly under the 
 patronage of the Archbishop, or any of the higher eccle- 
 siastics. In due time, however, when success had followed 
 the efforts of the promoters, /this was done. A chaplain 
 was appointed to watch over the Institution, with a 
 matron for its superintendence ; and the house then 
 inhabited being found too small for the increasing 
 number of inmates, a suitable dwelling was obtained 
 in Mecklenburg Street, where the establishment remains 
 to this day, containing thirty-three penitents employed 
 in washing, by whose labour, we understand, it is ren- 
 dered self-supporting — a conclusive proof of its excel- 
 lence. 
 
 In the early days of the Institution, and before it 
 had a chaplain, Bridget herself took her flock of penitents 
 to church, and frequently had as many as twenty under 
 her care. 
 
 Among the incidents which Bridget relates as occur- 
 ring in the early part of her reformatory labours, there 
 are some which strongly savour of romance ; and that 
 we are about to relate would almost be discarded as 
 incredible, did not strong evidence exist of its truth. 
 One evening the clerk of a neighbouring church came 
 
 Bridget begging her to accompany him to the 
 -try, where a poor young woman had just rushed in, 
 
 landing protection. Bridget immediately went, and 
 od her arrival found a poor creature in a state of 
 frenzy. She was about three-and- twenty, with beautiful 
 
102 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 
 features, which, however, were much disfigured by the 
 effects of her excitement. She was in a woful plight, 
 her cap torn off her head and lying in fragments about 
 the floor, and she was frantically trying to destroy every 
 remnant of finery about her person. It was a long time 
 before Bridget could make any progress towards calming 
 the poor creature, who exclaimed that she was possessed 
 with a devil ; that she had sought for a sanctuary, in hopes 
 that God would inspire his minister to give peace to her 
 soul. Our heroine saw that remorse had excited her to 
 madness, and did not consider her then in a fit state to 
 meet a priest. Renewing her efforts to soothe the 
 wretched girl, she succeeded at last in coaxing her 
 away, and took her to the house of a worthy woman who 
 had often received her penitents, ordered a comfortable 
 meal and good bed for her, and left the poor creature in her 
 friend's charge. The next morning, as Bridget returned 
 from mass, she called to inquire about her protegee, and 
 heard, to her great grief, that as soon as morning dawned 
 she had eloped. That same evening, however, the 
 clerk came to her to say that the mad woman was again 
 at the vestry. Bridget hastened there, and found the 
 poor creature quite as frantic as the night before. 
 When asked why she had left the asylum provided 
 for her, she said she " had gone to fetch her clothes, ■ lest 
 any of them [her late companions, we presume] should 
 be tempted to wear them ; their sight and touch drove 
 her mad; her only .chance was to burn them; and this 
 she had done." Again Bridget succeeded in calming 
 her down, and in taking her back to her first night's 
 lodgings. She stayed while the poor creature drank her 
 tea, when she left her in charge of her friend. Before 
 she had time, the next morning, to go and see her, the 
 
BRIDGET BURKE. 103 
 
 woman with whom she had placed her came to Bridget, 
 and said that during the night the wretched girl had been 
 so outrageous that she became frightened, and, sending 
 for a constable, had had her conveyed to the station- 
 house. There she had, frightful to relate, torn out both 
 her eyes ! Horror- stricken, Bridget inquired where the 
 poor thing was. . "In the hospital," replied her friend. 
 Thither our heroine hastened, and found the young crea- 
 ture just laid on a bed, prostrate under the results of her 
 desperation, a piteous object, one eye hanging on her 
 cheek, the other forced back into her head. She begged 
 for a clergyman, whom Bridget at once summoned; and 
 when he came the poor girl told him that she had com- 
 mitted the monstrous act because to the beauty of her 
 eyes she attributed her fall. The good priest subdued 
 her fearful excitement, and represented to her that the 
 repentance of the heart would be alone acceptable to the 
 Almighty. She made confession to him, and received the 
 sacraments of her church, remaining in the kneeling 
 posture she had assumed at his entrance until all rites 
 were concluded. Her wounds were then dressed, and she 
 was nursed with the greatest care and attention. 
 
 Many months, however, elapsed before she regained 
 her health, and then only to be stone-blind for the rest 
 of her days. As soon as she could leave the hospital she 
 was removed to an asylum, where she lived for many 
 years a model of Christian excellence, cheerful and even 
 happy, her greatest delight being to attend on the matron, 
 or on any one who required her care. She had been the 
 victim of remorse, operating upon an excited and ill- 
 regulated mind. 
 
 Bridget also mentions a young girl of fifteen, whom 
 she found in the streets. A cruel profligate had seduced 
 
104 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 lier from her home, at Waterford, and then abandoned her 
 in Dublin, without a farthing in her pocket or a friend 
 to whom she could apply. Her benefactress sheltered her 
 till her friends could be informed of her situation. One 
 evening a young man knocked at the master's door, asking 
 for Bridget. As soon as she saw him she knew by his 
 strong likeness to her poor protegee that he must be her 
 brother. He begged to see his sister, but it was too late 
 that night ; and the poor fellow was disconsolately think- 
 ing what he should do for a lodging, when the kind- 
 hearted butler offered him half his bed. This was grate- 
 fully accepted by the brother, and as he knew his sister 
 was safe, he could patiently wait till morning. The meet- 
 ing between the two was most affecting ; the brother cried 
 like a child, and seemed unable to release his sister from 
 his close embrace. A worthy priest gave them money to 
 pay for the girl's return home on a car ; the brother walked 
 all the way by its side, for he told the good Bridget, 
 before he took leave of her, that he had promised his 
 father, on his knees, never to lose sight of his sister until 
 he had brought her safe home again. 
 
 One day the superior of a convent at Dublin 
 sent for Bridget to consult her on the best means of 
 seeking for a young girl, an orphan, who had been placed 
 in a school attached to the cloister, but who had ab- 
 sconded, and was supposed to be leading a dissolute life in 
 the streets. A former pupil of the school had called to 
 tell the superior of the condition of the runaway. Always 
 ready to assist in any good work, Bridget hastened to 
 this girl, but from her she could only learn that " Hannah 
 Carney sometimes walked up and down Capel-street in a 
 red gown." In the evening of the same day, her hus- 
 band's cousin, James Burke, happened to call on Bridget, 
 
BRIDGET BURKE. 105 
 
 and when he was taking his leave she said she would 
 accompany him part of the way home. Arrived at the 
 corner of Capel-street, she asked him to pass along it. 
 As James was aware of his cousin's reformatory pro- 
 pensities, he hesitated, saying, " I hope you don't want 
 to meet any of those poor creatures." " Yes," she 
 replied, "I do ; and what is more, I want you to speak 
 to one of them for me." " I !" exclaimed her cousin, " I 
 wouldn't do so for the world. What should I do if my 
 wife were to hear of it 1 She would never forgive me." 
 " Don't be afraid ; when she knows that I am with you, it 
 will be all right." Satisfied with this assurance, they 
 proceeded, Bridget telling him that the only clue she 
 possessed to the girl she desired to meet was the know- 
 ledge that she wore a red gown. It was not long before 
 they met a girl wearing such a garment. "Are you 
 Hannah Carney 1 " said James. " I am not," replied the 
 girl. " Oh," said he, " don't try to deceive me ; here is a 
 friend who wants to speak to you." Bridget asked her 
 if she were not Hannah 1 The girl repeated that she was 
 not, but admitted that she knew Hannah very well, 
 assuring our heroine, however, at the same time, that she 
 would not see her there that night. "Where is she? Can 
 you direct me where to find her 1 " " She is in Newgate." 
 " For what ? " " For breaking windows ; but if you apply 
 to-morrow at the prison you will be allowed to see her." 
 Saying this, the girl left them, and Bridget and her 
 cousin returned to their homes. The next day our 
 heroine paid Hannah a visit in prison, and found her in 
 great destitution, so ill clothed that she had been obliged 
 to borrow a cloak to cover her while speaking to her 
 benefactress. Bridget did her utmost to comfort the girl, 
 and finding her heartily ashamed of her conduct, promised 
 
106 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 her admission to the asylum. Hannah was to be dis- 
 charged the next day, and Bridget asked her to appoint a 
 place where she could meet her. The girl mentioned a 
 house well-known as disreputable. This startled our 
 heroine, and she objected to go to it. " Oh," said 
 Hannah, " go for this once ; I have no other place open to 
 me, and, in this wretched condition, I could not go to you." 
 This appeal Bridget could not refuse, and the next day 
 punctually kept her appointment. She was shown into a 
 room where sat perhaps a dozen poor young creatu; 
 who openly expressed their envy of Hannah for having 
 good a friend to rescue her from their wretched life. 
 Bridget could, alas ! take but the one she came to seek, 
 and left the house, grieved to the heart that she could 
 not receive all. 
 
 After remaining many years in the asylum, Hannah 
 was seized with illness, which ended in death. She 
 had two sisters; one, in spite of her sincere repentai 
 and Bridget's constant entreaties, could never be prevailed 
 on to recognise her as a relative. The other, more cha- 
 ritable, took a lodging for her when illness obliged her 
 to^ quit the asylum, and supplied her with everything 
 which could alleviate her sufferings. Bridget tenderly 
 watched over the poor sick woman, and was present when 
 she breathed her last. 
 
 Bridget also tells a story of her being recognised by 
 the mistress of a shop, where she went to make some 
 purchases. This woman took her into a back room, and 
 there, throwing herself into her arms, burst into tears, 
 
 and told her that she was J P , a young woman 
 
 she had formerly rescued from a life of misery. J 
 
 told our heroine that she had married the man who first 
 led her astray ; they had both bitterly repented the past, 
 
BRIDGET BURKE. 107 
 
 and determined to lead better lives for the future. They 
 had made a good beginning by confessing their wrong- 
 doing to the priest, who afterwards married them. He 
 exhorted them to remember that trials borne with patient 
 endurance would purify their nature, and finally obtain 
 God's blessing on their efforts. She added that she and her 
 husband had experienced the extremes of poverty. At one 
 time, when they had left Dublin in order to seek for work, 
 they had no shelter but a ditch, when her husband was 
 suffering from severe illness ; and that she had been obliged 
 to beg both for him and herself. By patient endurance 
 they, however, struggled through this hard trial, and, by 
 their own efforts, had raised themselves to a situation of 
 
 comfort and respectability. J concluded by saying, 
 
 " My heart was near bursting when I saw you again, to 
 whom I owe everything." 
 
 One day, our heroine was met in the street by a very 
 respectable-looking woman carrying a basket of vege- 
 tables, who suddenly threw it down without seeming to 
 care what became of its contents, and, bursting into a fit 
 of hysterical sobbing, threw her arms round Bridget's 
 neck. The worthy woman, quite alarmed at this strange 
 proceeding, asked her who she was. " Sure, don't you 
 remember Madge Dogherty, that you had to bring back 
 home from the asylum, because I was quite unmanageable ? 
 But though I was so bad there, when I got home, I thought 
 on all I had been taught, and I determined to mend my 
 ways. And here I am, quite a different creature, and mar- 
 ried to as good and fine a young man as you could wish to 
 see." Bridget expressed her pleasure at the reformation she 
 had never expected, and added — " But does your husband 
 know of your former life ? " She was always anxious 
 that no man should be deceived on this point. The 
 

 108 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 woman assured her that he did ; he had known her from 
 childhood, and had always attributed her faults more to 
 her very high spirits and want of proper training, than 
 to any defect in her nature ; and she concluded — " When 
 he saw how changed I was, after being even for so short 
 a time in the asylum, he said he would take me in hand 
 himself; and you see he has finished the good work you 
 began. My only regret is now, that I was not always 
 what you and he have helped to make me." After this 
 meeting, Bridget completely lost sight of the woman. 
 She, however, heard of her again from a neighbour, as a 
 person who was continually repeating how much she was 
 attached to our heroine, and what an excellent friend she 
 had been. On Bridget's sending her a message through 
 the neighbour, she came to see her, and brought her two 
 little children to show to her benefactress. She said that 
 she and her husband had prospered well, and that, if pos- 
 sible, he was more kind to her than before. She should 
 never forget Bridget's kindness, and she prayed for her 
 every day. 
 
 A young man, named Pat Doyle, had a book for col- 
 lecting subscriptions, properly certified by the chaplain of 
 the institution. He possessed a friend, servant to one of 
 the officers at a neighbouring barracks, and determined to 
 solicit a contribution from him. His friend's master, 
 however, was prone to suspicion, and no sooner did he see 
 the collector with his book, than he took him for a spy or 
 a political incendiary, and, without listening to poor Pat's 
 explanation, kept him in custody while he sent to the 
 chaplain to inquire if the certificate in the book were 
 genuine. The reply, of course, cleared the young man 
 from all suspicion, and, moreover, made the officer so 
 ashamed of his injustice, that he became on the spot a 
 
 I 
 
* SISTER NATHALIE. 109 
 
 liberal subscriber to the institution, making Pat quite 
 proud of the conversion he had wrought. 
 
 Bridget Burke is still alive, and, though nearly ninety- 
 years of age, is in full possession of her faculties, and is 
 still active in her works of charity. Not long ago, we 
 are assured that she sold the blanket off her own bed, in 
 order to assist some poor destitute creatures, who either 
 could not or would not seek refuge in an asylum. She 
 lives with her daughter, happy in the retrospection of her 
 long and useful life — a bright example of what may be 
 effected by zeal and energy, united to true benevolence. 
 After her success, let no woman, however low her 
 station, however small her means, despair of being able 
 to do some good, at least to those among her fellow- 
 creatures worse off than herself. 
 
 In concluding our memoir of Bridget Burke, we are 
 induced to give a slight notice of two or three women 
 who, in the same rank, and with as few advantages as 
 herself, have yet by their devotion and perseverance been 
 enabled to confer considerable benefits on their fellow- 
 creatures. 
 
 Nathalie Doignies, known as Sceur, or Sister Nathalie, 
 was a peasant girl, born in the year 1778, at a village near 
 Lille, in the north-east of France. She was the eldest of 
 | seven children, and losing her parents when she was but 
 a young girl, was, in consequence, obliged to go to service, 
 in order to provide not only for herself, but also for 
 her little brothers and sisters, who, it appears, depended 
 chiefly on her exertions. She lived as cook for many 
 years in a respectable family in Lille, and there won the 
 love and esteem of her employers, by her sympathy with 
 
110 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 the sufferings of the poor, and by her active benevolence 
 in relieving them as far as lay in her power. 
 
 When her brothers and sisters had all grown up, and 
 no longer needed her assistance, she turned her attention 
 more particularly to the forlorn condition of the very in- 
 digent ; and this led her to think of trying to found an 
 institution in which she might be able to relieve their 
 necessities, both spiritual and temporal. Yet for a poor 
 servant to effect such an object seemed almost impossible, 
 so many and so great were the difficulties in her path. 
 But none, however formidable, daunted her ; and we are 
 told that, after twenty years' patient perseverance, she suc- 
 ceeded in the great wish of her life, and, in the year 1826, 
 established a religious order, of which she was the first 
 superior, called La Societe de V Enfant- Jesus [Society of 
 the Child-Jesus]. A convent was built for the sisters 
 of this order, and in a few years it became a very 
 flourishing establishment. The nuns, in accordance with 
 the wish of their foundress, were employed in works of 
 charity. Some took the management of a school attached 
 to the convent, where one hundred and twenty orphan 
 girls were entirely supported, until they were of an age to 
 earn their own livelihood. Others superintended schools for 
 the poor, established by Sister Nathalie, in which they not 
 only taught reading and writing, but they also instructed 
 their pupils in industrial occupations suitable to their sex. 
 Others again tended the sick and infirm, or took care of 
 the insane, or of the children in hospitals and asylums of 
 different kinds. In Catholic countries it is customary for 
 such institutions to be served by nuns of different religious 
 orders. 
 
 The institution which Sister Nathalie was the means 
 of founding is still, we believe, in a flourishing condition, 
 
ROSA GOVERNO. Ill 
 
 and continues to extend its charitable labours. Its meri- 
 torious foundress died in 1858, having attained her 80th 
 
 Mrs. Jameson, in her " Communion of Labour," re- 
 cords a visit she paid, in Turin, the capital of Piedmont, 
 to an institution established about a hundred years ago 
 by a woman who had been a servant girl. The members 
 are called Bosines, from the name of their foundress, Rosa 
 Governo. 
 
 " Here I found, wonderful to tell, nearly 400 women of all 
 ages, from fifteen and upwards, living together in a very extensive, 
 clean, airy building, or rather assemblage of buildings, for they 
 had added one house to another, maintaining themselves by their 
 united labour, and carrying on a variety of occupations, as tailoring, 
 embroidery (especially the embroidery of military accoutrements 
 for the army), weaving, spinning, shirt-making, lace-making — 
 everything, in short, in which female ingenuity could be employed. 
 They have a large, well-kept garden ; a school for the poor children 
 of the neighbourhood ; an infirmary, including a ward for those 
 whose age had exempted them from work ; a capital dispensary, 
 with a small medical library. Here I found one of the women 
 preparing some medicines, and another studying intently a French 
 medical work. 
 
 u This female community is much respected in Turin, and has 
 flourished for more than a century. It is entirely self-supported, 
 and the yearly revenue averages between 70,000 and 80,000 francs 
 [between £2,800 and £3,200 sterling]. The women are ruled by a 
 superior, elected from among themselves, and in their work-rooms 
 were divided into classes or groups, each under the direction of a 
 monitress to keep order. The rules of admission and entrance and 
 the interior regulations are strict. Any inmate may leave at once, 
 whenever she pleases, but, as I understood, cannot be re-admitted. 
 The costume, which is that worn by the lower classes in 1740, 
 
 * ' Annaies de la Charite ' for January, 1859, a French periodical, 
 which gives an account of charitable societies, &c., in France. 
 

 112 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 when the community was founded, is unbecoming, but not very 
 peculiar. All looked clean and cheerful." — " The Communion of 
 Labour;' pp. 104—106. 
 
 The Baron de Monthyon, a French nobleman, born in 
 1733, the heir to a large property which he employed in 
 benevolent purposes, especially in the encouragement of 
 literature, founded, in 1780, a reward of merit — a certain 
 sum of money to be given to men or women who shall, 
 for a long period, have persevered in a course of virtuous 
 action. During the old French revolution, these rewards 
 were abolished ; but were re-founded by Monsieur Mon- 
 thyon in 1816, when he returned to France after the 
 restoration of Louis XVIIL, he having followed the 
 Bourbons into exile. He desired that his prizes should 
 be distributed yearly by the Academy of France and the 
 Academy of Sciences — the first a society established, 
 more than 200 years ago, for the encouragement of 
 French literature ; the second for that of science. They 
 are both parts of the Institute of France — a great 
 association, or assemblage of different societies, for the 
 encouragement of arts, science, and literature. The prizes 
 are of different values. We believe £800 a-year is thus 
 distributed, and they are called after the name of their 
 founder. In 1859 one of these premiums was awarded 
 to a poor woman, named Francoise Caysac, born at 
 Lagniole, in the South of France. Her first occupation 
 was that of tending sheep ; she afterwards went into do- 
 mestic service. While thus employed, she became deeply 
 impressed with a desire to confer the benefits of education 
 on poor girls like herself ; and, by dint of patient indus- 
 try, with scarcely any assistance, qualified herself for 
 opening a school for little girls, where, during forty 
 
 Tty 
 
 I 
 
LOUISA SCHEPLER. 113 
 
 years, she lias instructed them, for the most part gra- 
 tuitously, in the knowledge which she has herself so 
 laboriously acquired.* 
 
 We close our list with a brief notice of Louisa 
 Schepler, the faithful servant and friend of Oberlin, the 
 good and famous pastor of the Ban de la Roche, a 
 parish among the Yosges mountains, not far from Stras- 
 bourg and the Rhine. Roche means stony, and the 
 place when Oberlin first arrived, about a hundred years 
 ago, was a barren and stony district ; its inhabitants were 
 in a wretched condition. There was not even a road to 
 Strasbourg. The good pastor lost no time in improving 
 the state of his village. But at first he had much difficulty 
 in persuading the inhabitants to do anything towards 
 ameliorating their condition ; and it was only by taking 
 shovel in hand, and setting to work himself, that he could 
 induce his parishioners to begin a road to the city, which 
 Oberlin justly considered was the first step towards the 
 improvement of the village. His efforts succeeded so 
 well, that the stony district became in time a scene of 
 beauty and prosperity. The inhabitants of the Ban de 
 la Roche, who at first treated their pastor with indif- 
 ference, came to regard him and all belonging to him 
 with such reverence and affection, that, when his son 
 returned home in a state of great suffering from severe 
 illness, a band of his father's parishioners walked before 
 the cart which conveyed the sick man along the uneven 
 road leading to the village, in order to pick up every 
 stone which could have given the least jolt to the invalid. 
 Oberlin' s wife, who had been his helpmate in all his 
 hemes for benefiting his people, died rather suddenly, 
 * ' Annales de la Charite',' November, 1859. 
 
114 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 leaving him with seven young children. Mrs. Oberlin 
 had, some years before, taken Louisa Schepler into her 
 house as a servant, and, on her mistress's death, she being 
 about twenty-three years of age, became & second mother 
 to the bereaved little ones. 
 
 In a letter written by Oberlin to his children, in the 
 year 1811, he, thinking, though erroneously, that his death 
 was at hand, thus speaks of Louisa : — 
 
 " My very dear Children, — In leaving you, I commend to 
 your care the faithful nurse who has brought you up — the in- 
 defatigable Louisa. The services which she has performed for 
 our family are innumerable. Your dear mamma took her under 
 her care before she was fifteen, but even at that early age she made 
 herself useful by her talents, her activity, and her industry. On 
 the death of your beloved mother she became at once your faithful 
 nurse and careful instructress. Her zeal for doing good extended 
 beyond our own family. Like a devoted servant of the Lord, she 
 visited all the surrounding villages, where I sent her to assemble 
 the children together, instruct them in God's holy will, teach them 
 to sing hymns, direct their attention to the wonderful works of 
 nature, pray with them, and communicate to them all the know- 
 ledge she had derived from me and from your mamma. Bad 
 roads and inclement weather were no obstacles to her ; neither sleet, 
 rain, wind, hail, or snow, detained her from her purpose ; and when 
 she returned in the evening, though exhausted, wet, and weary, she 
 would set herself to attend to my children, and to our household 
 affairs. In this manner she devoted not only her time, but her 
 health and strength to my service, and to the service of God. 
 For many years, indeed, her lungs have been injured, and her con- 
 stitution seriously affected by over-fatigue, and by sudden transi- 
 tions from heat to cold ; having often, when warm with walking 
 sunk into the snow to such a depth, as to be scarcely able to get 
 out. Perhaps you will think she had a sufficient recompence in 
 the handsome salary I paid her. No, my dear children, no ! 
 Since the death of your dear mother I have never been able to 
 prevail upon her to accept the least reward for her services ; she 
 employed her own little property in doing good, and in the purchase 
 
LOUISA SCHEPLER. 115 
 
 of her scanty wardrobe ; and it was always as a favour from me 
 that she received some slight articles of dress, &c. Judge, dear 
 children, of the debt you have contracted from her services to me, 
 and how far you will ever be from repaying it. 
 
 " In times of sickness and affliction how kindly she watched 
 over you and me ! Once more, I commend her to you. Be to 
 her in your turn what she has been to you, as far as your means 
 permit. 
 
 " Adieu, my very dear children, your Papa, 
 
 « "J. P. Oberlin." 
 
 "So desirous were Oberlin's children to fulfil his 
 wishes, that they offered to share with Louisa the little 
 property he had left. This, however, she refused, request- 
 ing only to continue to remain an inmate in the family, 
 and to be allowed to assume the name of Oberlin." 
 
 In 1829, Louisa, quite unexpectedly, received a 
 Monthyon prize of 5000 francs [£200]. She was much 
 gratified by the honour, and delighted with the power 
 it gave her of assisting the necessitous in her neigh- 
 bourhood. She helped one poor widow, who had lost 
 '< her crop of potatoes, and consequently could neither 
 I pay her rent, or put up a new chimney, which the 
 authorities required her to have built. Another aged 
 i widow, who was ill, with only a wretched bed, and no 
 I fire, received a share of Louisa's well-merited reward. 
 She persevered in active benevolence as long as her 
 I strength permitted; the schools, which for fifty-eight 
 years she had superintended, occupied her time and 
 thoughts almost to the last. She died in July, 1837, 
 respected and beloved by all who knew her, and tenderly 
 cherished by the children of her revered master.* 
 
 * 4 Lives of Good Secants,' by the Author of ' Mary Powell.' 
 
 i2 
 
116 
 
 CHRISTOPHER THOMSON. 
 
 Christopher Thomson was born at Hull, on Christmas- 
 day, 1799. His father was a sailor. He received his 
 education at the Free School of Sculcoates, a village near 
 Hull, in which the clergyman of the parish took great 
 interest, and often tested fhe progress of the boys by 
 examining them himself. He particularly turned his 
 attention to their knowledge of spelling ; and Thomson, 
 in his very interesting book,* draws a lively picture of 
 one of these examinations. 
 
 "The first class were all ordered to stand up, 'and 
 the clergyman put the question : ' Can any boy in 
 the class spell transubstantiatibn ? ' An awful pause 
 followed the question, each boy looking askant [askance] 
 at his fellow, then on the ground, anon casting a shy look 
 at the clergyman ; the silence continued, and returned 
 the significant answer, 'No !' The second class was next 
 called up — the same question put — and there, too, all 
 were silent. The master rose up, his face crimson with 
 rage ; pointing directly to me, he exclaimed, ' Cannot you, 
 sir, spell that word V And the answer was ' Yes, sir.' The 
 reverend gentleman then said, ' If you can spell the word 
 the first time, without blundering or turning back, I will 
 reward you with this golden watch-key/ holding up the 
 key that was suspended to his watch. I began, i Tran- 
 sub-stan-ti-a-tion,' and, with a ' Good boy,' I received the 
 promised reward, and was sent up to the first class. The 
 watch-key was always looked upon by me with pride, and 
 
 * * Autobiography of an Artisan,' by Christopher Thomson, 
 lished by Chapman, 121, Newgate-street, London, 1847. 
 
 Pub- 
 
CHRISTOPHER THOMSON. 117 
 
 during thirteen years frequently exhibited as a trophy ; 
 it was lost during a voyage to Greenland." 
 
 In 1810 Thomson's father resolved to give up his sear- 
 faring life and open a public-house. During his year of 
 residence at the "Ship," Christopher was witness to many 
 scenes of drunkenness and uproar among the sailors who 
 resorted to it ; but fortunately, perhaps, for the moral 
 character of his son, the elder Thomson was obliged to 
 give up the business after a series of losses, and seek other 
 occupation for himself, while Christopher was taken as 
 errand-boy by a friendly linendraper. This situation, how- 
 ever, he retained only for a short time, as his manners were 
 considered to be too uncouth to give him any prospect of 
 success in the shop, and he therefore was discharged. 
 Thomson was now without employment. One day he 
 amused himself by observing some men at work in a 
 brick-yard. " As I watched the process, I thought the 
 art of brickmaking so simple, that I was already master 
 of it. Venturing this opinion to the brickmaker, adding 
 that I wanted a place, and was sure I could soon do it, 
 he jocosely said, 1 1 was a sharp lad, and should have a 
 try.' The trial, however, proved me a 'poor tassel' ; and 
 amidst the jeers and laughter of the men and boys 
 gathered round, I had to desist, and brook the mortifica- 
 tion of being told I was good for nothing. I still lin- 
 gered about the ground, until about eight o'clock in4;he 
 evening, when the men were preparing for home ; then 
 the person before accosted told me to go home. I again 
 asked him if he could not give me a place, to help the 
 tier boys to carry away the bricks ? He answered, he 
 > pleased with my perseverance, and I must come on 
 the morrow to try my hand, and if I promised well, he 
 would employ me." 
 

 ! n 
 
 118 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 Thomson was much pleased at this proposal, and was 
 hastening home with the good news, when he met his 
 father, who, irritated by his son's dismissal from the 
 linendraper's, and angry at finding him away from home 
 so late in the evening, lost all command of his temper, 
 and cruelly beat him with a clothes' line ; however, when 
 he heard that Thomson had obtained an offer of work, 
 his anger was appeased. The boy went to bed full of 
 hope ; and " scarcely had the grey of the morning wel- 
 comed the June day, before I was up and anxious to be 
 off. Whether my first essay was anything better than 
 that of other boys, I do not remember ; it was sufficient 
 for me to be accepted. After my first whole week's 
 work I marched into the house, and tendered to my 
 mother half-a-crown, the amount of my wages, adding, 
 ' There, mother, we shall soon have another public-house 
 if I keep at work in the brick-yard.' " 
 
 From the brick-yard he went to higher employment 
 at a pottery. But a further advancement was in store 
 for him. In 1813 he was bound to Messrs. Barnes, 
 Dykes, and King, ship builders, under the Cogan's 
 Charity of Hull, which furnishes money for placing out 
 poor boys as apprentices to various trades. The firm, 
 in this instance, would not receive the premium for them- 
 selves, but generously presented the money to the appren- 
 tice. By this Charity an evening school was provided for 
 the boys, which Christopher gladly attended. The school- 
 master — who had embraced the opinions of the Metho- 
 dists — gained so great an influence over the mind of 
 Christopher as to induce him to join the same congrega- 
 tion. He evinced so much fervour in his religious ob- 
 servances, that an offer was made to him of accompanying 
 some missionaries to the East. He would gladly have 
 
CHRISTOPHER THOMSON. 119 
 
 accepted it, but he was not yet out of his time, and, 
 consequently, was obliged to relinquish the plan. 
 
 A circumstance occurred shortly afterwards which 
 effectually broke off all intercourse with the Methodists. 
 The elder Thomson subscribed to a circulating library 
 for his son. The latter took out, one Saturday evening. 
 a novel, whose title promised him great interest, 
 It happened to be " Splendid Misery." He was so 
 entranced with the book, that he remained at home to 
 read it instead of going to chapel, at which the class- 
 leaders were greatly displeased, and told him that, if he 
 did not renounce those books at once and for ever, he 
 must quit the Connexion. He chose the latter alterna- 
 tive, and continued his visits to the library • thus making 
 acquaintance with the works of Milton, Shakespeare, 
 Sterne, Johnson, and several other authors, besides read- 
 ing many volumes of prose fiction. 
 
 When about seventeen, Thomson paid his first visit 
 to the theatre, and saw "King John" performed. He 
 was so deeply interested, that he took no note of time ; 
 he forgot the actors in their characters, and awoke, at 
 the end, as from a dream. To act himself was now his 
 sole desire; and, collecting a few companions, he per- 
 formed, with their assistance, the firsi act of the tragedy 
 of " Mahomet," in robes borrowed by a secondary player 
 from the theatrical wardrobe. They were just in the full 
 fire of their performance, when the manager entered to 
 claim his property, threatening, moreover, to carry off 
 all the actors to prison for their presumption in pos- 
 ting themselves of his dresses without his knowledge. 
 At their earnest entreaty, he relented so far as to re- 
 linquish his threat of imprisonment ; but he despoiled 
 them of their robes, and they were obliged to finish the 
 
120 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 I: 
 
 tragedy in white trousers and whitey-brown shirt-sleeves, 
 as the best substitute for a Turkish costume that could 
 be found at hand. 
 
 Thomson had never liked the trade to which his father 
 bad bound him, and therefore, when his term of appren- 
 ticeship had expired, he quitted the yard with little or no 
 regret, except at parting with his kind masters. Being 
 thus " out of his time," he was engaged as carpenter's 
 mate in a whaling vessel, and made a voyage to the 
 Greenland seas. This was the only voyage Thomson ever 
 took ; for though he had intended to engage himself 
 again in a ship's company, circumstances occurred which 
 prevented him from doing so. 
 
 In the beginning of 1821 Thomson was married to 
 Miss Leaf, the daughter of a veneer sawyer, under whom 
 he took employment. Unfortunately for his prospects, 
 machinery was just then beginning to supplant manual 
 labour, and, consequently, the distress of the veneer saw- 
 yers was very great ; and their indignation was raised 
 against those who, they blindly thought, were reducing 
 hundreds of men, with their families, to starvation, in 
 order to forward their own selfish ends. This feeling was 
 not shared by Thomson, whose mind was discerning 
 enough to foresee the benefits arising to mankind by the 
 adoption of machinery, and whose generous heart could 
 cheerfully bear his own private distress, necessary, as he 
 felt it, for the public good. " Is the fact," he asks, " of 
 hundreds being thrown out of employment by the intro- 
 duction of machinery a sufficient argument against its 
 use ? I would answer, No ! I believe that great, im- 
 portant, as are its results already, that it is yet in its 
 infancy, and that the most comprehensive mind can but 
 dimly shadow forth its benevolent mission. ... Is ma- 
 
CHRISTOPHER THOMSON. 121 
 
 chiner j, then, to go on reducing labour, and our population 
 to starve '? No ! Then how long is the present system of 
 tlie labourers working, and the machinery reducing their 
 rewards, to continue 1 Just so long as the artisans will 
 allow it, but no longer ! They are the machine makers — 
 they are its workers ; they may be its owners, and be 
 themselves benefited by its vast productive powers ; and 
 this they will be, as soon as they are determined to be 
 mex. Sheridan has said, that 'All are not men who 
 bear the human form ; ' and, until those l who bear the 
 human form ' will make themselves men by education and 
 thought, they will remain poverty-stricken serfs, instead 
 of comfortable mechanics and independent citizens. The 
 thinking man knows that, although he may lack a bread 
 loaf, he shall not procure one by burning a farmer's corn- 
 stack Until education shall teach a majo- 
 rity of the toiling artisans of England to become calm, 
 sober, thinking, and self-dependent men, uniting them- 
 selves into a deliberative league for the emancipation of 
 labour, they will continue to be at the mercy of the 
 mammon lovers, who thrive by their ignorance and divi- 
 
 i. All the clap-trap cries of 'charters,' votes, or sects 
 yet raised, will be useless — will be rent in twain by the 
 machinations of political partisans and well-paid dema- 
 gogues, unless the workmen themselves concrete their 
 dependence with universal brotherhood — make their ele- 
 vation a deep spirituality, instead of merely canting 
 about wrongs which they never raise a serious voice 
 to remove. When the religion of doing ' unto other 
 men as we would that other men should do unto us,' 
 is understood — is felt, instead of being merely talked 
 
 ut on Sundays — then will the capital, which has been 
 long a task-master, become an universal help-mate. 
 

 122 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 : 
 
 ' Then will capital take its share in the 
 
 school-room, throwing the soul-creating wings of educa- 
 cation over the artisan's children, nurturing and pr< 
 paring them for the discharge of the important dutiei 
 of a Christian, world -adorner, and a citizen. Then, in- 
 stead of hastening the squalid, half- reared child to the 
 black night-day of a coal-pit, or the body- warping toil of 
 the factory, or to the mind-stultifying of the farmstead, 
 because the degraded parents cannot spare out of their ill- 
 requited labour a sum sufficient for its food and schooling, 
 until it shall be matured in mind and muscle — then, 
 instead of these blighting miseries, the mission of machi- 
 nery will be understood ; they will, in their declining 
 years, joy over the manliness of their offspring, instead 
 of looking down as thousands now look down upon their 
 half-humanised children seeking bread by crime, or, by 
 what is equally dreaded, the insulting mockery of a work- 
 house." 
 
 From a manuscript continuation of his memoirs, with 
 which Mr. Thomson has favoured us for this work, we 
 learn that he has abandoned, or greatly modified, his 
 jealousy of capital ; and we have obtained his concur- 
 rence in the following remarks on that part of the fore- 
 going passage which has a tendency towards Socialistic 
 opinions. Capital, although its application to any par- 
 ticular purpose may produce partial suffering, is, in the 
 end, favourable to all parties — to the capitalist, to the 
 working man, and to the customer. Take the example 
 of railways : coach proprietors, inn-keepers, and the many 
 persons dependent on them for wages, were sufferers 
 by the overwhelming competition of railways, and many 
 who had lived in comfort were brought to ruin. But, 
 on the other hand, the number of industrious operatives 
 
CHRISTOPHER THOMSON. 123 
 
 to whom railways give remunerative employment, is 
 far greater than those whose bread was interfered with. 
 Moreover, the working men thus benefited are not 
 confined to such as are directly engaged by railway 
 companies, but comprise all artisans throughout the 
 country. The augmentation in the quantity of goods 
 carried by railways, as compared with those formerly 
 transported by canals, wagons, and coaches, is so enor- 
 mous, as to show that production throughout the country 
 has greatly increased, from dearness of carriage having 
 given way to that extraordinary cheapness which belongs 
 to railway conveyance. And what is true of artisans is 
 also, though, perhaps, in a less degree, true of agricultural 
 labourers. In the reign of Edward I. — nearly six hun- 
 dred years ago — the price of wheat was four times greater 
 in Herefordshire than, in London ; now, the difference 
 between the price in one part of the island and another 
 is practically none at all. In those days there was no 
 motive to employ labourers to cultivate the land beyond 
 the wanta of the immediate neighbourhood, since it would 
 not pay to carry produce to a distant market. Thus the 
 poor labourer in Herefordshire would have scanty em- 
 ployment, while his fellow-toiler in London paid a high 
 price for his food. Every improvement in the making of 
 roads by an outlay of capital, and every canal that was 
 cut in later times, diminished the cost of production, and 
 enlarged the circle of profitable transport. But, until 
 the age of steam-boats and railways, much, very much, 
 
 gained to be done. Perhaps the best illustration of 
 their power may be found in considering the article fish. 
 When salmon were brought from Scotland by sailing- 
 
 isels, one cargo in three was totally spoiled from the 
 being protracted by adverse winds. This circum- 
 
124 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 \ 
 
 stance compelled the fishmonger to charge as much for 
 two fish as he now does for three ; and, consumption 
 being checked by high prices, in many of the salmon 
 rivers in Scotland no fisheries were established, so that 
 vast quantities of delicious food were lost. But the illus- 
 tration gains in force, if we add another improvement to 
 those produced by the application of steam to transport, 
 We speak of the telegraph. Many parts of the coast o 
 our island are now and then visited by immense shoa] 
 of fish of various kinds. At Bye, for instance, on the 
 southern coast, not more than fifty-five miles from London, 
 the mackerel is caught on occasion in such multitudes 
 that no means of transport existing before the opening 
 of the railway were sufficient to carry them off, but they 
 remained on the shore poisoning the air with their 
 stench until carted away for manure ; and even now, 
 without the aid of the telegraph to give notice to the great 
 fishmongers in London to prepare for the distribution of 
 large cargoes throughout the metropolis, and by commu- 
 nication with their correspondents in the country to 
 divide the surplus among the great provincial towns, the 
 difficulty could not be overcome ; for, without the double 
 assistance of rail and telegraph, it would be impossible to 
 dispose of the glut before the mackerel could be delivered 
 at the door of the consumer in a state of freshness. 
 
 The boon to our inland population of a supply of fish 
 from the sea — a wholesome luxury almost unknown to 
 their ancestors — need not be dwelt upon. 
 
 The experiment of the " Bochdale Bioneers," which 
 has been in operation from the year 184,4, fosters the 
 hope that the time may not be far distant when the 
 elite of our operatives, male and female, may establish 
 and conduct factories and manufactories for themselves, 
 
CHRISTOPHER THOMSON. 125 
 
 furnishing the capital from their savings, and thus divid- 
 ing among them the profits of capital and of management, 
 in addition to the wages of labour. But this will ever be 
 an arduous undertaking, and ages may elapse before it 
 can become general. The working classes, estimable as 
 they are, are deficient in the attainments which are 
 essential to harmonious co-operation. They are suspicious 
 of each other, jealous of priority, however well deserved, 
 impatient of losses, and too often unobservant of the rules 
 of forbearance and courtesy. Yet, as the number of 
 partners must necessarily be large, the difficulties of har- 
 monious action in a co-operative establishment will be 
 far greater than in one conducted on ordinary principles, 
 where the number of partners is very limited. All 
 honour, then, to those working men and women who 
 have overcome these various difficulties, and who offer so 
 bright an example to the classes from which they spring ! 
 But, even as matters now are, it is by no means true 
 that the introduction of machinery has any tendency 
 towards a permanent diminution of wages. This great 
 fact has at length become too manifest to be denied even 
 by the leaders of strikes, who now say — not that they are 
 not benefited by machinery — but that they have not a 
 fair share of that benefit. This view, though nearer to 
 the truth, will, in its turn, become a dissolving view, and 
 it will be found that the only feasible plan for procuring 
 a larger share is to follow the example set at Rochdale ; 
 but then the aspirants to Rochdale earnings must clothe 
 themselves with Rochdale qualifications. We would 
 refer our readers to an article by Mr. Percy Greg, in 
 Fraser 9 8 Magazine for June, 1860, entitled " The Roch- 
 dale Pioneers." Its truth and accuracy we have verified 
 by our own investigations made on the spot. 
 
126 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 Leaving his employment as a veneer- sawyer, Thomson 
 again became an actor ; yet being wounded in the thigh 
 while rehearsing a duel, he would have gone back to his 
 trade, but that he found his injury had incapacitated him 
 for that occupation. He therefore joined a company of 
 strolling players. 
 
 Their first representation was to have been in a large 
 room in York, but they were prevented through the 
 jealousy of the managers of the Theatre Royal in that 
 city, who informed the strollers that they must not act 
 "legitimate" drama anywhere off their boards, and would 
 not allow them to perform in the theatre itself. 
 
 Many were the hardships and trials which Thomson 
 and his wife underwent during their ten years of strolling 
 life. He was sometimes the manager of the company, 
 and sometimes one of the actors. Often they had to 
 trudge wearily from one town to another, carrying their 
 children on their backs, and arriving at the resting place 
 only just in time to perform their parts in that evening's 
 play before a small audience, and, consequently, earning 
 but a miserable pittance. Sometimes there would be an 
 absolute standstill when they could not get a " house," 
 i. e., an audience; and then Thomson was obliged to turn 
 his hand to " painting transparent window-blinds, making 
 painted glass boxes, chimney ornaments, and such like 
 nick-nackeries," to keep starvation from his door. There 
 was no great sale for these articles in the small villages 
 through which they travelled. 
 
 At one time Thomson tried a school in the village of 
 Tickhills, Yorkshire. His numbers dwindled to nothing 
 on account of the prejudice his profession excited, and the 
 various absurd charges -which were brought against him, 
 and which we shall give in his own words. These were : 
 
CHRISTOPHER THOMSON. 127 
 
 u That I refused to beat the boys because they could not 
 ' say their spelling,' and that, with such mildness, the boys 
 would be saucy, and overbearing ; that those who did 
 read under me, read their books more like reading a play, 
 than the Bible ; that by teaching them to read ' poetry 
 and stuff,' the boys would, at some future time, all run 
 away from their masters or parents, and turn players.' 
 His school having failed, he resumed his strolling life, and 
 gained a little more money than usual at Shardlow. 
 
 This prosperity did not, however, last ; and while at 
 Kimberley the actors mostly fed on bread, and some butter- 
 milk kindly given to them by their landlady. Once, 
 during their stay, they were able to purchase meat, and 
 Thomson, accompanied by Mr. Younge, one of the players, 
 went to the butcher's to buy a quarter of a pound of 
 mutton. The butcher cut off the required quantity, 
 with taunts on its smallness ; and when they were gone 
 a few yards from the shop called them back to have 
 a laugh at their expense with some stocking-weavers, 
 who were standing about. " I say," said he, " are both 
 you lean fellows going to dine off that lot ?" " Yes, 
 Mr. Butcher," Thomson coolly replied, " two lean fellows 
 are going to dine off that lot, and four other persons be- 
 sides ;" and walked away, hearing the jeers of his auditors 
 behind him. 
 
 The sneers of the stockingers — an ill-requited body of 
 working men — show that even the poor are not always 
 kind to their fellow-sufferers from poverty, although their 
 general charity and friendliness towards their equals can- 
 not be doubted by those who are conversant with their 
 habits and manners. Harsh reflections on the poor by 
 the rich, or on the rich by the poor, are as deficient in 
 justice as in a spirit of candour and toleration. 
 
128 , . OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 By the kind present of a person named Oscroft of 
 some stencilling patterns, Thomson was enabled to gain a 
 little money, which was spent in providing a plentiful 
 meal. The following extract is a most valuable testimony 
 both to his cheerful and hopeful disposition, and his in- 
 domitable honesty. Few would have passed through 
 extremities of hunger such as he describes, and exposed 
 to such powerful temptations, without yielding : — 
 
 " To estimate the amount of joy that results from being able 
 to pay your liabilities, and partake of one meal — potatoes and salt, 
 if you like — you must first be without a meal for several days 
 together, and have to exist in a room where the incense from roasted 
 beef and savory viands [Thomson speaks here from actual experi- 
 ence] steam up to your nostrils two or three times a-day ; to have 
 your sitting room hung over with pictures [fine specimens of the 
 thing itself] of salted bacon, with conscience whispering to you, if 
 you cut a single rasher off those flitches you will be guilty of felony, 
 and if you wish they were yours, you covet your landlord's goods. 
 "When you have experienced so exciting a situation, and are sud- 
 denly ordered to eat of the good things before you, and to pay your 
 debts out of the cash in your pocket, then you will taste of real 
 bliss. 
 
 " It has been my lot, through life, to always observe the sun, 
 even through the storm-clouds I may have been too san- 
 guine ; but if I have occasionally lost the substance while grasping 
 at the shadow, it has taught me a not less useful lesson. Let the 
 morbid ones tell us this is a life of misery, they will find it tough 
 work to induce me to preach, much less to practice their creed. 
 God's world is fair and pleasant. Mammon may warp it, and 
 hypocrisy try to veil its beauties ; let them — undaunted, I shall 
 still hold on my way, despising alike their evil teaching ; and as 
 I struggle onward through life, my battle cry shall be — 'Tey 
 again ! ■ " 
 
 At Arnold, one night, Thomson and his companions 
 had great difficulty in procuring a lodging. At last a 
 place was found, but it was beyond their means to pay 
 
CHRISTOPHER THOMSON. 129 
 
 for the whole troupe. Two brother actors, Younge and 
 Manuel, gave up all the money they had, three half- 
 pence each, to Thomson, because he had a family, and 
 they were single men. Having reason to hope for a 
 gratuitous bed at Blidworth, they walked back to that 
 village, a distance of eight miles, over dreary heaths. 
 " How would the nightly revellers in down — the despisers 
 of the ' vagabond players ' — act under similar circum- 
 stances ? Would they go and do likewise ? Who but 
 the poor would make such a self-sacrifice — to turn out, 
 under the dark-hooded night, with bleeding feet, penni- 
 less and supperless 1 Who but the poor, to serve the 
 poor?" We think that the late revolt in India has 
 proved that the rich are likewise ready to perform such 
 sacrifices for their fellow-creatures. 
 
 About the year 1828, Thomson found himself able to 
 ,in business at Edwinstowe, in Nottinghamshire, as 
 house-painter. This fact will operate as an encouragement 
 uch of our readers as may have been so unfortunate as 
 not to have acquired a sufficient skill in early life to follow 
 ie permanently gainful occupation. But it must not be 
 forgotten that Mr. Thomson had cultivated both his mental 
 and manual powers by a great variety of applications of 
 them, and that he was far from being in the sad plight of 
 one who has permitted his faculties to lie dormant. 
 During his wanderings he had stencilled a good deal with 
 the patterns which were so kindly given him. Early in life 
 he had received some lessons in painting from a friendly 
 ad latterly he had sometimes employed the hours 
 of hia enforced idleness by watching painters at their 
 rk, particularly when graining or performing any diffi- 
 cult part of their art. Thus he had already gained some 
 in this trade. Though adopting his new occu- 
 
 J 
 
130 
 
 OUK EXEMPLARS. 
 
 pation, he did not finally relinquish his theatrical pursuits 
 until four years afterwards, when he felt that he had 
 acquired such an amount of skill as to entitle him to 
 become a master painter. The course of study which he 
 pursued was, as he says, " to diligently improve, by close 
 application, the little knowledge I had already acquired ; 
 secondly, to study the best books on the subject which I 
 could procure ; and, lastly, in my imitations of woods, 
 or marbles, to go directly home to Nature, whenever that 
 was practicable. With such means I set to work, deter- 
 mined to make the best use of them. 
 
 "It was my privilege, soon after settling in this 
 village, to make the acquaintance of two or three right- 
 thinking men — the men who were anxiously looking for 
 better days — my companions ; and thus early we pledged 
 ourselves mutually to endeavour to banish crime from the 
 village, and if possible, restore it to virtue and freedom.* 
 From that time we have worked diligently together, full 
 of hope that somebody would be benefited by our labour 
 of love. Squatting down here, penniless, without a table 
 or three-legged stool to furnish a cottage with, it may 
 easily be imagined that I had tough work of it. My 
 great want was books ; I was too poor to purchase 
 expensive ones, and the ' cheap literature ' was not then, 
 as now, to be found in every out-o'-the-way nooking. 
 However, Knight had unfurled his paper banners of free 
 trade in letters. The Penny Magazine was published. I 
 borrowed the first volume, and determined to make an 
 effort to possess myself of the second. Accordingly, 
 with January, 1833, I determined to discontinue the use 
 of sugar in my tea, hoping that my family would not then 
 feel the sacrifice necessary to buy the book." 
 
 * From its proximity to the old Sherwood Forest, poaching and | 
 petty theft were carried on to a considerable extent. 
 

 CHRISTOPHER THOMSON. 131 
 
 A branch of the Nottingham Society of Odd-Fellows 
 had been established in Edwinstowe some time, when in 
 1833 Thomson was solicited to join it. On first learning 
 of its existence he had felt great suspicion of what would 
 be the effect of the society on the villagers, but as he 
 heard more of its proceedings, the conviction was forced 
 upon his mind that* its members were seriously endea- 
 vouring to better their social condition. He joined the 
 society, which has been of great use in gradually educating 
 the minds of its associates to think on higher subjects, 
 and take more extended views of men and things than 
 they had hitherto done ; and sin and crime, which were 
 to the full as rife in Edwinstowe as any other village, have 
 been greatly lessened by its good influences. 
 
 In 1838, with the assistance of several friends, he 
 established the Edwinstowe Artisans' Library, to which 
 the subscription was one penny per week, with an entrance 
 fee of one shilling. It was open to both sexes. The 
 library was commenced with several periodicals and a 
 few novels of Scott and Cooper. 
 
 At first affairs seemed to prosper. But the number 
 of subscribers, which had been considerable, fell off. In 
 order to remedy this defection, Thomson proposed that 
 the villagers generally should be invited to a ball, which 
 was to take place on the anniversary of the opening. 
 Many persons were doubtful of the expediency of dancing, 
 but nothing daunted by the objections raised, Thomson 
 kept to his determination. On the appointed evening, 
 after tea, the report of the society was read, and addresses 
 delivered upon the importance of education and the neces- 
 sity of keeping up the library. Then came the dancing, 
 which the guests very much enjoyed, and all went off 
 exceedingly well ; the financial appeal was responded to 
 
 j2 
 
132 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 with liberality, and after all expenses were paid there 
 was a considerable surplus in aid of the library. Even 
 the happy results of this evening did not entirely dispel 
 the doubts which had been entertained concerning the 
 dancing, nor until it had been repeated again and again, 
 with entire absence of evil consequences, did they quite 
 disappear. But by the majority of the villagers the 
 annual ball was looked forward to with delight. 
 
 To the library were added several classes for instruc- 
 tion, which were well attended by both male and female 
 pupils; and lectures were also given, attracting some- 
 times as many as two hundred auditors. 
 
 In November, 1841, was held the first gathering 
 in honour of the "Sherwood Forest "Worthies" — those 
 worthies who, by the pen, pencil, or otherwise, had 
 celebrated that beloved locality, in the heart of which 
 Edwinstowe is situated. A dinner was given, at which 
 Thomson took the chair, and many speeches were made 
 advocating education; and instances adduced of persons 
 who had raised themselves by their own exertions to a 
 position commanding the respect and admiration of their 
 fellow-men. This meeting excited much attention among 
 the neighbouring counties, and was followed by a second 
 in Sherwood Forest itself, which was also very sue- j 
 cessful. 
 
 It had been intended that these two festivals should I 
 only be the commencement of a long series of entertain- 
 ments; but the directors — all of them working men- 
 were unable to spare sufficient time for necessary ar-l 
 rangements, and they were discontinued. The Library I 
 and the Society of Odd-Fellows, however, still flourished. 
 
 Chiefly by Thomson's benevolent exertions, an "Assch 
 ciation of Self-Help " was formed among the artisans ir 
 
CHRISTOPHER THOMSON. 133 
 
 1847. Its object is "to accomplish, by all legitimate and 
 moral means, support in sickness, decent interment, com- 
 petence in old age, support of the widows and orphans, and 
 the comfort of its members by association, labour, leisure, 
 and education." It was intended to benefit such as 
 were unable conscientiously to subscribe to the cere- 
 monies and observances of the Odd-Fellows. 
 
 Here we close Mr. Thomson's published Autobio- 
 graphy, and resort to the manuscript continuation to 
 which reference has already been made. 
 
 " Sheffield, 1860. 
 " Although in the years 1847-8 I was in the possession 
 of almost every comfort an artisan could reasonably hope 
 to enjoy, I was not without occasional misgivings that it 
 roo good to last. My family had now increased to 
 i — three boys and four girls, alive. They were all 
 children of promise, possessing talents above the common 
 average of children around them. This was great com- 
 fort to myself and wife ; still, the future was not un- 
 clouded. My trade depended mainly upon the improve- 
 ments then making in Rufford Abbey, Notts, by the Earl 
 of Scarborough. Although I had other customers, they 
 insufficient in number, wealth, and taste, to find me 
 remunerative employment as a decorative painter. The 
 -tax had been imposed, and rumour stated that 
 the Earl had resolved to reduce his expenses, particularly 
 ut upon improving his abbey, in proportion to 
 the demands made upon him for income-tax. Then, 
 jh the present job was likely to last some 
 I come to an end, — nay, it might be stopped 
 suddenly, and so reduce, if not entirely cut off, that prop 
 of my livelihood. These rather gloomy prospects were 
 t of frequent conversations betwixt me and my 
 
*$: 
 
 134 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 eldest son, Thomas, who was of weak constitution, fre- 
 quently suffering from aggravated attacks of the painter's 
 cholic. His suffering, and the growing conviction that 
 our trade at Edwinstowe would not keep a large family, 
 induced us to consider how, and in what way, our re- 
 sources might be increased. My frequent intercourse 
 with the people of Nottingham and Sheffield had created 
 in me a desire to enjoy more fully the many advantages 
 of social and educational pleasure which, it appeared to 
 me, the dwellers in those large towns possessed over the 
 villagers. Besides, there was room enough for embarking 
 in some other business, or profession, which might eke out 
 the now failing one at Edwinstowe. 
 
 " Having a taste for literary pursuits, I concluded upon 
 trying a small stationery and newspaper business, as one 
 which I, my sons, or daughters, might each attend to in 
 turn — relieving each other between town and country 
 life — as circumstances might render desirable. In my 
 enthusiasm for books and book-readers, I had entirely 
 lost sight of the difference which arose from the enjoy- 
 ment of perusing the inside of books and the drudgery of 
 merely retailing them over a counter ; or of running to 
 deliver newspapers in all weathers, as compared with 
 comfortably reading the leader over your coffee ; or of all 
 the angry contentions of rival traders and angry cus- 
 tomers, who were each impatient for the last number to 
 come to them by the first train, I only saw at that time 
 the sunny side of the business, and at once resolved to 
 bask in it. 
 
 " The choice of situation lay between Nottingham and 
 Sheffield. The former place seemed at first to offer the 
 greatest chance of success. My old friends, the Odd- 
 Fellows, had their head-quarters there. I had often been 
 
CHRISTOPHER THOMSON. 135 
 
 employed as their representative in the large towns of the 
 kingdom, and I thought I might reasonably hope to have 
 their k sweet voices,' and continue their delegate. Yain 
 hope ! If ever the necessity arises for you to have to tell 
 large bodies of ignorant men that they are working upon 
 false principles, you must expect to make more enemies 
 than friends. Their ignorance natters them ; they believe 
 themselves to be the only Solons living, and they need 
 not officious advice. I had just learned through the 
 newspapers and other public sources — particularly the 
 publication of a pamphlet on Friendly Societies by Mr. 
 Neison, the actuary — the unstable position of most of the 
 Odd-Fellows' societies, which I had been labouring for 
 lts to create and build up, and I became painfully 
 alive to the responsibility I had drawn upon myself. I 
 found the members of these societies were financially 
 krupt ; that being without the pate of the law, we 
 were a prey to designing, selfish men ; that the high- 
 sounding promises of weekly support to the widows and 
 orphans, which I was daily pouring out on behalf of the 
 Nottingham Odd-Fellows, were the immature imagin- 
 es of sanguine day-dreamers, that, in reality, were as 
 he dreams of Queen Mab. No sooner was I 
 ire of our unsound and defenceless position, than I set 
 it a remedy. I named those things to my fellows, 
 but they pooh-poohed it off. I was told to wait, and all 
 ild come right in time. But my patience was soon 
 ted; and as the high officers and grand dignitaries 
 ild not stir, I determined to break the ice, by putting a 
 B iph in the columns of the Nottingham Review, I was 
 ( and Masters to be the officious fellow, 
 I of calmly discussing the views contained in the 
 ph, they rewarded its author with long tirades of 
 
J' 
 
 13(5 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 
 personal abuse in letters to the press, and in correspond- 
 ence with the various lodges. I was accused of arrogance, 
 of selfishness, of everything save a desire to better the 
 condition of our societies and our fellow-men. So, in- 
 stead of finding a haven at Nottingham, I had started a 
 hornet's nest. For awhile the buzz was terrific; the 
 stinging was never very severe, for it only made the ink 
 flow more freely, and, by the aid of the Nottingham and 
 Sheffield press, the insects were soon bereft of their stings, 
 and, in a brief space, reform, both legal and financial, was 
 the result. 
 
 "In February, 1849, I took a house in Orchard-street, 
 Sheffield, and put out a sign-board, ' C. Thomson, Sta- 
 tioner and News Agent. A Circulating Library and 
 Refreshment and Reading Rooms.' I was not troubled 
 with much business in the book way ; and the visitors to 
 
 \ the news-room we're few and far between, — in fact, I had 
 made a bad choice of situation. The street was merely a 
 thoroughfare ; it was narrow, dark, and unhealthy,, and 
 was about as inviting a place to live in as a railway 
 tunnel. I did not, however, despair ; I was a good 
 hoper. I had been but little used to town life since I 
 was a boy. I had heard that Time was a great rectifier 
 of new businesses, so I hoped that at some not far distant 
 day he would call upon me and interpose in my behalf. 
 Alas ! he had too many new businesses to direct, I 
 suppose, for he never called at 36, Orchard-street ; 
 although a long-liver, he had too much value for his 
 health to trust himself in that gloomy lane. 
 
 " Soon after my establishment in Sheffield I became a 
 member of the Mechanics' Institute there ; and shortly 
 after my association with them I was appointed manager 
 
 > of the Mechanics' Institution, with a salary of 15s. per 
 
 I 
 
CHRISTOPHER THOMSON. 137 
 
 , far it was necessary to liave one of my daughters 
 in attendance in the library very frequently, say an 
 average of three nights per week. This was my own 
 choice, to allow me time to be present in the class-room 
 skmally, and in the lecture-room. This situation I 
 held until May, 1853. In 1853 I was induced to leave 
 the Sheffield Mechanics', and undertake the management 
 of a similar institution, called the Hallamshire Mechanics' 
 Institution, where, during the first twelve months, I re- 
 ceived one pound per week. Afterwards my connection 
 with it was entirely gratuitous. This situation I held 
 until the summer of 1855. At that time I met with a 
 serious accident while painting the proscenium of a 
 theatre ; I fell from the ceiling, and seriously injured my 
 left eye, so badly, indeed, that it was for some time 
 doubtful whether I should recover its use. I was then, 
 by my medical adviser, desired not to resume my edu- 
 aal labours, but to have as much mental rest as 
 ble. I was likewise cautioned against painting or 
 following any employment which required the aid of 
 ra or scaffolds, for, being subject to the overflow 
 of blood to the head, such situations were fraught with 
 r to me. 
 
 Fv acquaintance with the working men of Sheffield 
 
 ngthen my political bias. On principle, I 
 
 had long been a radical reformer, holding the political 
 
 he Chartists without joining in membership 
 
 with ieties; indeed, the physical force creed, held 
 
 minently in 1848-9 by these politicians, was alone 
 
 me from any official companionship 
 
 with them. I le extreme political views, and 
 
 -ly well known to the Odd- Fellows — a numer- 
 
 —and mingling largely with the youth of 
 

 138 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 the town in their educational institutes, I was not 
 a solitary. Acting in all political gatherings with 
 the extreme radical section here, who at this period 
 (1850-1) rejoiced in the distinguishing cognomen of 
 ' dems ' (i. e. y democrats), I was soon recognised as one 
 to be put forward. Nature had done her share : she, 
 kind mother, had furnished me, if not with eloquence, at 
 least with sufficient declamatory power to play the stump 
 orator ; and for the ' dems ' to have a leader who could 
 talk a bit was no mean attainment. With a little ambi- 
 tion, and thorough earnestness and honesty of purpose, I 
 was weak enough to allow the municipal voters of Ec- 
 clesall Ward — commonly called the Waterloo Ward, 
 being the largest and most radical in Sheffield — in 
 November, 1851, to send me as one of their representa- 
 tives to the Town Council. 
 
 "Well, instead of being a frequent spouter in the 
 Town Council, I became, comparatively, a silent member. 
 I found there was a surplus of talkers in that august 
 body already, indeed, I thought, more than enow ; so I 
 declined to swell their numbers, but contented myself with 
 being constantly in my place, and voting as I thought the 
 justice of the case required. To the ' dems ' such con- 
 duct seemed very strange, and all sorts of surmises were 
 used to arrive at the cause. By some I was getting too 
 proud, others averred I had been bought up by the 
 Mayor's dinner parties; but the more general opinion 
 was that I was only a ' dem ' in disguise. At the end of 
 three years I made my bow, and retired ; for, as I had 
 assured myself that the gentleman whom I was especially 
 to watch was as radical as myself, and as politically honest 
 as man could be, I did not trouble the patriots of Water- 
 loo, or any other ward, with a petition for re-election. If, 
 
CHRISTOPHER THOMSON. 139 
 
 however, the town at large did not profit by * my disin- 
 jted services/ the labour was not all lost upon myself. 
 I held: 4earned some painful lessons in the secret conclaves 
 of the ' dems.' I found a fraction of them intelligent, 
 and I believe honest. The great bulk were extremely 
 nit, and guided, it may be, by an innate desire for 
 freedom, but altogether too vain and too indolent to inform 
 themselves of the several sides of a question ; hence all 
 I their decisions were guided by passion and faction. A few, 
 • I found, and these always taking a very prominent part in 
 -their public movements, to be the most debased of men. 
 These were the tricksey-men ; their patriotism consisted in 
 'getting into the houses of voters, and filling up the voters' 
 H papers with the names of their pet candidate ; of sitting 
 I up during the night to pull down or deface the placards 
 (of the opposing candidate ; of causing to be written and 
 •printed scurrilous attacks upon the private character of the 
 \ opposition candidate, or of his friends ; indeed, of doing 
 tanything that would serve their purpose, no matter how 
 vile the means. I could, I did respect the honest inten- 
 tions of even the ignorant, but naturally independent class, 
 i albeit they often carried their independence to a tyrannical 
 extrema But with the more objectionable class it was 
 
 Kssible for me to hold communion. I was not Jesuit 
 ugh to understand how the end would justify the 
 * ich men have made me thoroughly indifferent 
 about universal suffrage. My political principles have 
 _ »ne no change, at least no retrograde change, but I 
 km alarmed at placing great power in the hands of troops 
 ignorant men. It is the knowledge of the existence of 
 ad ignorance that makes me labour so hard 
 the work of adult education, at an advanced period of 
 . when I might enjoy rest; and more particularly 
 
140 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 now that I have adopted a profession that demands con- 
 stant study and close application. 
 
 " I still hold the abstract right of all good citizens to 
 political power. I know great and good men dispute 
 that ' right.' Still, for all practical purposes I cannot 
 believe that in the present uneducated state of the masses, 
 society would be benefited by universal suffrage. Nor do 
 I sneer, as many do, at that which has lately been called a 
 ' fancy suffrage.' I think intellectual fitness a more 
 justifiable standard than real property or cottage rental ; 
 and I have a vague notion that some such standard will 
 force itself upon the attention of the Government, be it 
 Liberal or Tory. 
 
 " I was never a successful tradesman in the stationery 
 department. I was far too liberal in giving credit, and my 
 losses were frequent and often serious. Then I devoted a 
 larger portion of my time to the public than, as it eventu- 
 ally seemed to me, I could financially afford to do. And 
 every year I found that I was poorer than I was when I 
 came to Sheffield. It may easily be imagined that these 
 frequent losses and occasional inconveniences were sources 
 of great trouble to me. Fortunately for my peace of mind 
 and personal comfort, I have a most kind, indulgent, and 
 industrious wife, and to her I owe my happiness. 
 
 "In 1854 I began gradually to take less interest in 
 my trading concerns, and to turn my attention to landscape 
 art. From youth upwards, I had always been fond of 
 drawing, had been a scene-painter in middle life, had ever 
 been an intense admirer of the beautiful in nature, had 
 often dabbled with the pigments, but never made art a 
 profession. My longings had been in that direction for 
 several years, but other pursuits prevented me from de- 
 voting the time and study required for the profession of a 
 
CHRISTOPHER THOMSON. 141 
 
 painter. I foresaw formidable difficulties strewed across 
 my path. The meridian of my life was passed; good 
 . already established, were struggling for fame, and 
 were bowed down with disappointment. Public taste was 
 at a low ebb, for except the few who enjoyed the privileges 
 
 ^ of education, competence, and leisure for the study of 
 r esthetically, all were guided by the capricious law of 
 mere like and dislike, without the training necessary to 
 enable them to judge by a pictorial standard. In Sheffield, 
 very few possessed a refined artistic taste ; for the student 
 there were neither public galleries nor ready access to 
 good pictures in private collections. The working classes 
 here were generally in the receipt of good wages, but few, 
 
 5 very few, aspired to the enjoyment of anything beyond 
 nng and drinking, ■ dressing like gentlemen,' or taking 
 railway excursion; — all very good things as far as 
 
 \ they go, but not of much benefit to a local artist. So, 
 all things considered, the temptation to follow art had to 
 
 j be sought in other fields than those of selfish gratification. 
 I paused at the blank prospect, — 
 
 f Letting I dare not wait upon I would. 5 
 
 I halted, but could not long stand still. I thought I 
 ought to seek a more lucrative profession. Yet art 
 haunted me day and night — sleeping or waking the ever 
 present question was, Can I become a painter ? So day by 
 day I drifted into painting. My ' appetite grew by what 
 it fed upon,' until at last, I believe, I could have preferred 
 suicide to the assurance that I could not succeed as an 
 My philosophy admits, I fear, of no defence ; I 
 ipt none; for weal or for woe, I resigned myself to 
 growing desire ; and now, artist or no artist, my whole 
 thoughts are centred in painting. So in 1855 I assumed 
 
■ 
 
 \ 
 
 142 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 the profession of landscape-painter. At that time, as it 
 now appears to me, I had little to recommend me, but 
 good relative size [an eye for proportion], and light and 
 dark [the management of light and shade — chiar-oscuro, 
 as painters call it] ; colour I had none ; I was generally 
 cold, and seldom transparent. However, I did not 
 despair. I had read that our great poets, painters, 
 and musicians might be divided into two classes. 
 One class that had died early, and produced their 
 best works at an early period of life, as Raphael, 
 Byron, &c. Others who began their profession late in 
 life, who lived to an advanced age, and whose best 
 works were produced at very advanced periods of life, 
 as Titian, Michael Angelo, &c. Titian's great work of 
 1 Peter the Martyr,' is said to have been completed when 
 the painter was over eighty years of age. I argued with 
 myself, ' I am but fifty-five, of robust constitution, of sober 
 and temperate habits, and I may live to be eighty, and 
 still possess a moderate mental and physical vigour ; and 
 so I must begin, and, if possible, make up by untiring 
 assiduity and diligent study the leeway of past life.' ' I, 
 too,' would c be a painter,' and I could conjure up argu- 
 ments sufficiently flattering to counterbalance my occa- 
 sional misgivings. My industry will be best understood 
 by quoting from a register I keep of my pictures, entering 
 them in my book on the day they are considered finished. 
 By finished, I here mean, when I think I can carry on the 
 work no further. Nevertheless, I have often found my- 
 self at work upon them after their entry in my table. My 
 register commences on the 4th day of November, 1856, 
 with a picture, Win Hill, Derbyshire; size, 11^ inches 
 by 8 J inches; the progressive number is 45. It ends 
 with the 21st day of March, I860, with a picture called the 
 
CHRISTOPHER THOMSON. 143 
 
 Bracken Gatherer of Sherwood Forest (a forest view in 
 Edwinstowe). The progressive number is 375 ; size 30 
 inches by 25 inches. So between these dates, a period of 
 three years and four months, I have painted 330 pictures 
 in oil, measuring in size from 6 inches to 5 feet in length, 
 with the usual corresponding depth or breadth; nine- 
 tenths of these pictures being actual studies from nature. 
 
 " The largest sum I ever received for one picture was 
 fifteen guineas. Thrice I have received that amount, for 
 special views and large pictures. But my average price 
 has fluctuated between one and five guineas, for landscapes 
 s varying in size from 12 inches by 8 inches, to 36 inches 
 ! by 24 inches; and my average sale has been of small 
 cabinet pictures, about 16 inches by 12 inches, at two 
 guineas. And often in my poverty I have been forced to 
 accept any abatement my hard-handed customers have 
 
 Sbeen pleased to offer. But were I to tell of all the humi- 
 liations, bitterness, feverish excitement, tears, laughter, hap- 
 piness, and heartache of my brief artistic career in detail, 
 it would require a diary as specific as that of circumstan- 
 tial Pepys. I have hard enough work of it ; but with me 
 the terrible alternative is to paint, or to jump to troubles 
 that I know not of. 
 
 " In addition to these pictures named, I have taken, at 
 least, one hundred sketches from nature within the same 
 dates, viz., three years. Those sketches are in lead pencil, 
 chalk, crayons, water colours, and a few in oil, carefully 
 studied on the spot, and often the hard work of a day. 
 For instance, I have walked from Sheffield to the neigh- 
 bourhood of Ashopton, in Derbyshire, a distance of twelve 
 or fourteen miles, where I have arrived about noon ; I 
 have remained until sunset, and afterwards walked back 
 to Sheffield, often with only a crust of bread in my 
 
\ 
 
 144 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 knapsack, and my beverage taken from the delicious 
 mountain spring. But, although I have often felt, on 
 nearing home, a little fatigue, sometimes foot-sore, I have 
 never tired in the literal sense. And often I have had 
 the company of my ever kind and watchful wife. For 
 the last two years my pocket, thanks to my friends, has 
 enabled me to take longer journeys, by taking advantage 
 of the frequent railway excursions to the Lakes and places 
 of picturesque beauty. If I am to trust the opinion of 
 persons competent to judge of art, although I have yet 
 much to do to command rank amongst the men who have 
 won a reputation as great painters in their several walks, I 
 have, notwithstanding, made much progress. From my first 
 dark, cold, hard, matter-of-fact productions, I have travelled 
 on towards colour, breadth, and better poetic treatment. 
 At present I am painting upon a very high key, perhaps 
 erring on the side of light. My intense love of light may 
 perhaps require to be reined in. I am told by those who 
 profess to be truthful with me, that in almost every work 
 I make a marked advance toward pictorial requirements. 
 I am earnestly wishful to do well, and have no vain desire 
 to deceive myself. 
 
 " I cannot conclude these rambling incidents in my 
 battle of life without informing you that, with all the 
 pinchings that a painter's life has now and then subjected 
 me to, I have also made friends worth knowing, and to 
 whom I shall ever feel deeply grateful. Amongst a few 
 I have found a fast friend in Mr. John Guest, of Rother- 
 ham — a principal in the manufacturing firm of Guest 
 and Chrimes, of Rotherham. John Guest, Esq., may be 
 properly called a self-made man, and, in his locality, a 
 public benefactor — being foremost in every social and 
 benevolent movement that takes place in that neighbour- 
 
CHRISTOPHER THOMSON. 145 
 
 hood. He is an energetic member of the Rotherham 
 Mechanics' Institution. He was the first to introduce 
 building societies into that town. He is a leading mem- 
 ber of the Total Abstinence Society, a man of refined 
 manners, of good literary taste, and, in his earlier years, 
 was a frequent contributor, both in poetry and prose, to 
 the local literature of this part of the country. He is an 
 energetic sanitary reformer. Mr. G. possesses an exten- 
 sive library, and a large gallery of good modern pictures 
 by many of the best modern masters, including Reynolds, 
 Gainsborough, Collins, Uwins, and the best men of the 
 transition period. Through the kindness of this gentle- 
 man I have had, and continue to have, ready access to 
 study his pictures and books. For three years past, by 
 his generosity, I have visited the Royal Academies and 
 other metropolitan exhibitions. Mr. G. has assisted me 
 in every beneficial way to make known and dispose of my 
 pictures ; and I believe that, without his aid and gene- 
 rous friendship, I must have failed in my object, and 
 sunk, broken-hearted, into the grave. Mr. G.'s wife 
 is happily a fit companion for a man of his taste 
 and accomplishments ; and many a cottage inmate 
 in Rotherham and its vicinity may be heard to bless her 
 name. She is a true sister of charity, benevolent and 
 
 ! unostentatious. Without this couple Rotherham would 
 
 i be a wilderness. 
 
 "To Mr. J. C. Crawshaw, of Sheffield, I owe deep 
 obligation. He is a first-class connoisseur, the best 
 judge of a picture it has been my happiness to know. 
 This gentleman was, in early life, an animal painter ; 
 he relinquished his profession for a public one, less 
 precarious than the profession of art, and I believe, to 
 him, more lucrative. He has always aided me with 
 
 K 
 

 146 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 kind advice and instruction, and remains my firm friend. 
 To Mr. M. Beal — a prosperous tradesman and an un- 
 tiring promoter of all social and political progress in 
 Sheffield — I owe much for his benevolent aid and sym- 
 pathy with my struggle. I have many other friends and 
 well-wishers, I doubt not ; but those gentlemen whom I 
 personally name have been ever steady and valuable 
 patrons." 
 
 
147 
 
 WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS. 
 
 William and Robert Chambers, whose names, as the 
 successful publishers of cheap and good books for the 
 people, are known wherever the English language is read, 
 were born at Peebles, in the south of Scotland, William 
 in 1800, and Robert in 1802. 
 
 Their parents were in respectable circumstances and 
 in the middle class — their father a man of much cultiva- 
 tion of mind, and their mother a lady-like and remarkably 
 handsome person. The youths received a* good education, 
 Robert making considerable proficiency in the classics, 
 and being intended for the Church. Their home, though 
 otherwise of the simplest character, was one in which 
 books of thought and of taste, philosophical instruments 
 and discussions, occupied a prominent place. It was the 
 only one in the town in which a copy of the " Encyclo- 
 paedia Britannica" existed. The principal poets and 
 novelists of the last century were familiar as household 
 words. Through these means the boys acquired an 
 amount of mental culture such as is even yet uncommon 
 in their rank of life. Rut unmerited misfortunes came to 
 blight this fair scene, and the two youths were thrown 
 upon their own energies. 
 
 William was apprenticed to a bookseller in Edin- 
 burgh, whither the family had removed ; and Robert, 
 necessarily relinquishing all higher aspirations, entered, 
 nail scale, into the same business on his own 
 
 oant, being then scarcely sixteen. His ruling idea at 
 ire the family to the respectable 
 ;<>n it had originally occupied. 
 
 William, alter serving his time, entered into business ; 
 
 k2 
 

 148 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 and both he and his brother had to struggle through 
 many difficulties in the early years of their progress. 
 They have been eminently the architects of their own 
 fortunes. They started with the intention of relying 
 solely on themselves, and this intention they have made 
 the principle of their lives. One of them has been heard 
 to confess that he afterwards felt as if he had carried self- 
 reliance in those days to an unamiable extreme, and yet 
 he could say that at no time, not in the saddest or the 
 gloomiest, was he ever without a sense of duty towards 
 the many who were worse off than himself, with perhaps 
 less power of overcoming their misfortunes. The inde- 
 pendent spirit of the young men was the more creditable, 
 because they had relations in affluent circumstances, who 
 might have been expected to assist them, if asked to do 
 so. It is believed that, in point of fact, they were never 
 indebted to any one, related or otherwise, for the slightest 
 aid. It may also be remarked, that, in their career, as 
 publishers, they have never courted any coterie, party, 
 sect, or individual — never sought to cultivate any interest 
 but that of the public, to which, in the broadest sense, 
 they always addressed themselves. 
 
 They conducted separate concerns until 1832, when, 
 together, they established their celebrated "Journal." 
 Prior to this date, however, they had both appeared before 
 the world as authors, and the younger brother, for some 
 years, had conducted a newspaper. Eobert's "attention 
 to the antiquities of Edinburgh had early gained him the 
 notice of Sir Walter Scott (who, in his diary, terms 
 him 'a clever young fellow, but who hurts himself by too 
 much haste'), Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe, and other 
 eminent natives."* 
 
 * * English Cyclopaedia, Biography.' 
 
WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS. 149 
 
 The Journal soon became very successful, and, in 
 1834, had reached a sale of 50,000 copies. The brothers 
 now gave up their separate concerns, and established 
 their present publishing and printing house, which has 
 become one of the most celebrated in the world. The 
 success of the Journal induced them to put forth other 
 cheap and popular works. " Information for the People," 
 kt Popular Library," " Miscellany of Useful and Entertain- 
 ing Tracts," were among the number. Some of these had 
 an extraordinary sale, that of " Information for the 
 People" and the "Miscellany" averaging, the first 
 130,000, and the second from 150,000 to 200,000 
 copies. The popularity of these books shows that their 
 publishers understood the wants they were endeavouring 
 to supply. 
 
 During their earlier years as publishers, Messrs. 
 Chambers were, to a great extent, their own authors and 
 editors. In about twelve years Mr. Robert had written 
 for the Journal alone nearly four hundred articles, or 
 essays, humorous and conversational, pathetic, philoso- 
 phical, &c., involving an immense amount of reading, and 
 of observation of life and manners. He had also prepared 
 many volumes for a valuable series of books which he and 
 his brother have published under the name of an " Educa- 
 tional Course." Mr. William, besides producing many 
 
 i itorious writings, had organised a printing and pub- 
 lishing establishment, in which nearly two hundred per- 
 <ud ten printing machines were employed in 
 
 paring and issuing the brothers' productions alone. In 
 
 the later part of their career they have been enabled to 
 
 much valuable assistance, but still have never 
 
 eir own marvellous activity. 
 
 During these years, also, Messrs. Chambers have pub- 
 

 150 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 lished several books not connected with their Journal. 
 Among those written by Mr. William Chambers is a 
 volume of Travels in America, to which was added 
 another on the Slavery Question. He has also written 
 one on the "Improvement of the Dwellings of the 
 Humbler and other Classes in Cities," " suggested, it is 
 said, by his experiments during the last few years in 
 improving the dwellings of his tenantry on an estate he 
 purchased near Peebles, the cultivation and improvement 
 of which has formed a pleasant occupation of his well- 
 earned leisure."* Besides interesting himself in endea- 
 vours to improve the dwellings of the poor, Mr. William 
 Chambers has presented a literary institution and a library 
 to his native town. 
 
 Science has attracted the attention of Mr. Robert 
 Chambers, and he has given to the world a work on 
 geology, called "Ancient Sea Margins, as Illustrative 
 of Changes of the Relative Level of Sea and Land." His 
 taste, however, leads him chiefly to historical research, 
 particularly with regard to the romantic portions of Scottish 
 story. Several volumes of this kind from his pen, in par- 
 ticular one detailing the Rebellion of 1745, appeared in 
 "Constable's Miscellany" upwards of thirty years ago; 
 and he has lately published a very laborious work in two 
 volumes, entitled " Domestic Annals of Scotland," which 
 has met with great success. 
 
 The most remarkable circumstance in the career of 
 the Messrs. Chambers as publishers is this, that they 
 carried on their large business in entire independence 
 of the common system of credit. They paid ready money 
 for their materials, and never put their names as acceptors 
 to a bill of exchange in their whole united career ! — a fact, 
 * 'English Cyclopaedia.' 
 
WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS. 151 
 
 perhaps, unique. No doubt, in order to lessen difficulties, 
 they were obliged to practise the strictest economy, and 
 only to increase their business by very gradual steps ; but 
 being gradual, these steps were safe. There was no slip- 
 ping back ; every point gained was a sure advance 
 
 \ards that commercial eminence which they have so 
 justly earned. 
 
 By this course the Messrs. Chambers have set their 
 fellows an example which they will do well to follow. If 
 persons beginning business would determine to rely on 
 themselves and keep out of debt, which, the proverb tells 
 us. is keeping out of danger, we should not so frequently 
 hear of failures, which cause not only the loss of comfort 
 to the bankrupt and his family, but too often tempt him, 
 when inconvenienced for money, to commit acts that his 
 
 d science tells him are, if not dishonest, at least dis- 
 honourable. 
 
152 
 
 JOSEPH TUCKERMAN, D.D. 
 
 Joseph Tuckerman was born at Boston, U.S., January 
 18th, 1778. His father, a baker, must have had a 
 large business, being able to employ 300 men. His 
 mother early instilled into his mind the precepts of 
 religion, and he often spoke of his enjoyment in standing, 
 when a child, at her knee reading the New Testament 
 to her while she sewed. He devoted himself to the 
 Unitarian ministry from his youth, and, having duly t 
 prepared for his profession, received an invitation to 
 succeed Dr. Payson as pastor of a congregation at 
 Chelsea, then an obscure village in the vicinity of 
 Boston. 
 
 His life at Chelsea was passed in the earnest and 
 loving performance of every duty. He looked upon his 
 flock as his family, and was to them all, their tender 
 father, their kind benefactor, and their sympathising 
 friend. He considered no toil too laborious, or no service 
 uncalled for, which could in any way promote their moral 
 or physical improvement. 
 
 His sermons were never at any time distinguished 
 for commanding power or eloquence, but they always 
 filled his hearers with the conviction of his sincerity, and 
 of the unison of his precepts with his conduct ; and engen- 
 dered so much respect for the preacher, that words from 
 his lips carried ten-fold more weight than from those of I 
 another, however gifted, who had not the same testimony 
 of his life to bear them out. His addresses were often i 
 extempore, and these were generally preferred to his written 
 compositions. His daughter says that she has frequently 
 
JOSEPH TUCKERMAN, D.D. 153 
 
 given him a text when entering the church, upon which 
 he would preach in his fullest and best manner. 
 
 In his services to the sick, his character appeared to 
 great advantage. Finding that there was no medical 
 man in Chelsea, he procured the most essential drugs, 
 and distributed them free of charge to the poor who 
 were in need of them ; and having obtained a little know- 
 ledge of medicine himself, he was often able to give 
 valuable assistance to his people. " Frequently have I 
 known him, when I have accompanied him on his visits 
 to the sick," says one of the deacons of his church, " slip 
 a piece of paper into the hands of those upon whom he 
 called as he parted, which would afterwards be found 
 to contain a substantial proof of his charity." Thus 
 passed the twenty-five years of Dr. Tuckerman's life in 
 Chelsea. 
 
 He resigned his pastorate there in 1826, and removed 
 to Boston, where he immediately commenced his minis- 
 trations. These were not confined to one particular 
 district, but were extended to any person needing them, 
 wherever he might live. 
 
 Dr. Tuckerman was not absolutely the founder of the 
 "Ministry at Large," or Domestic Mission, as he has 
 sometimes been called ; but as he was the first to recognise 
 its true aim and importance, and to arouse public atten- 
 tion to the necessity of such a mission, he may be re- 
 garded as its greatest benefactor. 
 
 The course which he pursued was, first thoroughly 
 
 study the character, habits, and disposition of the 
 •son whom he wished to reclaim, and his faults of educa- 
 tion ; then, never despairing of his reform, however long 
 the evil might have existed, Dr. Tuckerman sought to 
 influence him in the manner most likely to call forth 
 
154 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 his own powers of self-regeneration ; meeting him, not 
 with a pharisaical superiority, but as man to man, 
 always endeavouring to preserve and increase the self- 
 respect which still clung to him. Wherever there was a 
 child, he found it comparatively easy, he says, to commence 
 his ministry, as parents were always favourably disposed 
 towards those who took kindly notice of their little ones. 
 Dr. Tuckerman did not confine his efforts to the poor 
 alone ; he felt that the call for sympathy and assistance 
 to their indigent neighbours would benefit the rich, and 
 therefore endeavoured to unite all classes in a bond of 
 common friendship. Happily these benevolent efforts 
 met with marked success among the inhabitants of 
 Boston. 
 
 He also entered heartily into the movement just then 
 commenced for affording to children a religious service, 
 that, especially adapted to their capacity, should interest 
 them, and, at the same time, instil into their minds those 
 precepts of Christianity which are essential to their wel- 
 fare. In this work he was ably supported by other 
 ministers, and some young men, his assistants. 
 
 His labours for the suppression of intemperance were 
 incessant, convinced as he was that in that vice lay the 
 chief cause of poverty and crime. He himself re- 
 linquished the use of intoxicating liquors. We cannot 
 refrain from giving one example of his method of per- 
 suasion in his own words : — 
 
 " One morning, I entered a room that I might make some 
 inquiry respecting a family. Everything in this room was in con- 
 fusion. The floor, the furniture, the dress of the woman whom I 
 saw there, were alike filthy ; and a man was lying upon the bed in 
 the deep sleep of thorough intoxication. I had never before been 
 in that room, but it was a matter of course that I should at once 
 
JOSEPH Tl CKF.KMW, D.D. IfiS 
 
 learn what I could of ibis family; and I soon learned from the 
 wife thai her husband was a journeyman mechanic, and abun- 
 dantly able to provide for his family, if he would but give up the 
 strong drink. It was my practice on Sunday to visit certain 
 families, in which the husband and father was seldom to be found 
 at home on other days, except at meal-times. I, therefore, told 
 this woman that I would see her again on Sunday, when I hoped 
 to be able to speak to her husband. She expressed a wish that I 
 would, and I left her. At nine o'clock on the following Sunday 
 morning, I was there again. I knocked at the door, and entered. 
 The man whom I had seen upon the bed on the preceding Friday 
 now stood before me. I said to his wife, f You have mentioned 
 my intention to call here this morning ?' 'No, sir/ she replied. 
 Her husband was obviously much surprised at seeing me enter 
 his room. I, therefore, immediately offered him my hand, 
 which he accepted ; and I said to him, c I was here on Friday 
 morning, and saw you upon the bed, and have taken the liberty to 
 call upon you/ We were all soon seated. I did not say to this 
 man, f I saw you drunk upon your bed. 5 He well knew what was 
 the condition in which I had seen him. At once, however, we 
 entered upon the subject upon which I wished to communicate with 
 him. I addressed him with the respect due to a man, and the in- 
 terest due to a brother. He was touched, affected, and within half 
 an hour threw open his whole heart to me. He assured me that 
 he would not taste any intoxicating drink till he should see me on 
 the next Sunday. At that time, I was with him again, and had 
 the testimony of his wife that he had been faithful to his promise. 
 I passed another half-hour with him. "We were already friends. 
 Again he engaged to go through the week without tasting any- 
 thing which could produce intoxication. Again, and again, and 
 again, he renewed his pledge to me, and was faithful to it. After six 
 or eight weeks, I found him on Sunday morning in a new suit of 
 clothes, the fruits of his own earnings ; soon a new cooking-stove 
 was provided ; the dress of his wife also was clean and comfortable ; 
 and never shall I forget the bright and happy expression with 
 which she one morning said to me, c I have now been married 
 twenty years, and in all those years I have not been so happy as I 
 have been during the last three months/ Had I treated this man 
 otherwise than with respect and sympathy, how would he have 
 
156 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 received me, and how would he have treated my endeavours to 
 reclaim him from intemperance ?"* 
 
 Dr. Tuckerman felt that to improve the homes of the 
 poor was to diminish intemperance ; he knew that work- 
 ing men are often and often induced to seek the dram- 
 shop by the wretched condition of their dwellings, and he 
 earnestly endeavoured to impress this conviction upon 
 their wives. 
 
 In 1833 Dr. Tuckerman was attacked by a severe 
 illness, which prevented him for some time from con- 
 tinuing his ministry. He never again recovered suffi- 
 cient strength to resume any active labour, which he 
 felt to be a great privation ; but he had the consolation 
 to know that his successors in his office were able sup- 
 porters of his views. 
 
 Prior to a visit to England, in the same year, 
 Dr. Tuckerman had not paid much attention to the 
 question of slavery, and he even " acknowledged to his 
 English friends that he had felt an indefinable natural 
 repugnance to associating with them [coloured persons], 
 and that he could not but regard them as an inferior 
 race." This feeling, however, had not at all prevented his 
 performing his pastoral duty to a coloured family at 
 Chelsea, to whom he had been very kind. But while in 
 England, he conversed much on the subject, and was con- 
 vinced, that, whatever inequality may exist between the 
 two races, it would disappear when equal advantages of 
 intellectual culture were offered to the negro with those 
 now enjoyed by the white race. He so far conquered 
 his repugnance, that, on his return to Boston, he opened 
 a sewing school for coloured women, to which he gave 
 much personal superintendence, and speaks of it as "a 
 great pet " with him. 
 
 * 'Ministry at Large/ pp. 107—109. 
 
JOSEPH TUCKERMAN, D.D. 1^7 
 
 He employed his leisure in the compilation of his 
 book, "The Ministry at Large," in which he set down 
 the results of his experience in the mission he instituted. 
 These results are, as he says in a letter to a friend, "the 
 check given to mendicity, and the generally im- 
 proved condition of the poor, which are felt and acknow- 
 1 here by those who take note of moral causes and 
 effects." This work he was able to finish before his death, 
 which occurred April 20th, 1840. He was buried in 
 the beautiful cemetery of Mount Auburn, Boston, where 
 a monument was raised to his memory, to which many 
 of the poor contributed subscriptions. "It is a testimony 
 of grateful remembrance from the churches, of devoted 
 Christian philanthropy and high Christian worth \ but 
 his noblest monument is the Ministry, with which his 
 name must ever be associated." 
 
158 
 
 FATHER MATHEW. 
 
 \ 
 
 In the year 1810 the population of the United States 
 amounted to 7,239,903 persons, while the quantity of 
 spirits annually consumed was 33,365,559 gallons, a pro- 
 portion of more than four and a half gallons to each man, 
 woman, and child ! Drunkenness, long rampant in the 
 land, had reached a climax. A remedy was needed to 
 save the nation from destruction, and Temperance Societies 
 were devised to avert the impending ruin. For a time 
 the evil was stayed ; and the apparent success of the 
 remedy in America led to its adoption, several years later, 
 in this country. First in Ireland, then in Scotland, and 
 eventually in England these societies sprang up. 
 
 But the obligation of " temperance " forbad the use of 
 ardent spirits only, and did not prohibit beer and wine ; 
 and although this partial abstinence was productive of 
 good, especially when the reform was first introduced, it 
 was soon discovered, alike in America and the United 
 Kingdom, to afford a very insufficient protection against 
 drunkenness. The necessity for more stringent rules 
 was acknowledged, and in 1832 an association was formed 
 at Paisley, the members of which pledged themselves " to 
 abstain from all liquors containing any quantity of 
 alcohol," except when taken medicinally. Later in the 
 same year, Mr. Joseph Livesey inaugurated a similar 
 society at Preston. There the new doctrine found earnest 
 supporters, among whom should be mentioned Mr. James 
 Teare. Before the end of the year six hundred members 
 had entered 'the society, and the moral and physical im- 
 provement apparent in the town, and attributable to its 
 
FATHER MATHEW. 159 
 
 influence, called forth special remark in the annual report 
 of the chaplain of Preston gaol — the venerated John Clay. 
 The movement had already obtained its distinctive title 
 from Richard Turner, a reclaimed drunkard, who, intend- 
 ing doubtless to render the word more emphatic, urged 
 tee-total abstinence upon his hearers. Under the .energetic 
 advocacy of Mr. Livesey, these principles were adopted 
 by the friends of temperance in the metropolis, and 
 were gradually recognised in all parts of the country. 
 News of this further step in a reform which had originated 
 in the United States reached America, and there, also, the 
 total abstinence pledge came to be incorporated with the 
 promise previously made by the members of Temperance 
 Societies.* 
 
 In Ireland, meanwhile, the attention of social reformers 
 had been directed to the course by which alone she could 
 be rescued from her national vice — drunkenness. Intem- 
 perance had there reached such a head that Irishman and 
 drunkard were regarded all the world over as synonymous 
 terms, Temperance Societies, in their strength and in 
 their weakness, both by their partial success in diminish- 
 ing drunkenness, and their too frequent failure in re- 
 
 iming drunkards, had demonstrated that the pledge of 
 
 -tinence from alcoholic liquors was indispensable; but 
 that that abstinence must be total. William Martin, a 
 
 i nber of the Society of Friends, at Cork, was one of the 
 
 ;s in Ireland who practically recognised this 
 
 His example was followed by others of his 
 
 c in that city; and gradually he made converts from 
 
 Terent religious parties. These had formed themselves 
 
 into a Total Abstinence Society, and in spite of indiffer- 
 
 derision, they laboured to spread their principles. 
 
 * Temperance Movement, ( Chambers' Miscellany,' vol. iii., 1845. 
 

 ,,:,: 
 
 160 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 Their influence, however, was limited, and they made but 
 little way, until they resolved to enlist under their banner 
 him with whom thenceforth their cause was identified- 
 Theobald Mathew. They already knew him to be 
 friendly to total abstinence principles ; but to account for 
 their confidence in success if he could be induced to raise 
 their standard, we must recur to his previous history. 
 
 The pedigree of Theobald Mathew is traced to a dis- 
 tinguished Welsh family, from a member of which, who 
 settled in Ireland in the reign of James I. of England, 
 was descended Francis Mathew raised to the peerage as 
 Earl of Llandaff. James Mathew, the nephew of the 
 earl, married a Miss Whyte, and both dying early, they 
 left Theobald — born at Thomastown near Cashel, in the 
 county of Tipperary, on the 10th of October, 1790 — and 
 seven other children, all distinguished for personal beauty 
 and energy of character. Theobald was placed by his 
 grand aunt, Lady Elizabeth Mathew, who adopted him, 
 under the tuition of a Roman Catholic clergyman, at 
 Tallagh, County Waterford, and at thirteen years of age 
 was sent to the lay academy of Kilkenny, where he was a 
 special favourite with the able president, the Rev. Patrick 
 Mao-rath. Having remained there for seven years, and 
 desiring to enter the Church, he proceeded to Maynooth 
 to pursue his theological studies. After some time, stimu- 
 lated by the example of two old Capuchin Friars of Kil- 
 kenny to embrace their order, he repaired to that city, 
 where he dwelt until his appointment to a mission in 
 Cork. The Franciscans (founded by St. Francis d'Assisi) 
 are one of four orders of mendicant or begging friars, and 
 are also called Capuchins, from the capuchin, or hood, 
 which originally formed a part of their dress. 
 
 On Easter Sunday, 1814, being then in his twenty- 
 
FATHER MATHEW. 161 
 
 fourth year, Mr. Mathew was ordained at Dublin by Dr. 
 Murray, the late excellent Roman Catholic Primate of 
 Ireland. After ministering at Kilkenny for a brief 
 period, he was transferred to the Franciscan Friary at 
 Cork. He eventually became Provincial Superior of this 
 branch of his order, a rank which conferred upon him 
 the title of Very Reverend. The friary, situated in 
 Blackamoor-lane, a very poor and neglected neighbour- 
 hood, consisted of a few rooms, and a chapel built by 
 the Rev. Arthur O'Leary, a distinguished Franciscan, 
 eminent for the talents and learning with which he advo- 
 cated civil and religious liberty, a blessing of which Irish 
 Roman Catholics were in his day unrighteously deprived. 
 "When the young Capuchin arrived he knew no one at 
 Cork, save his fellow-friar, Father Donovan, an elderly 
 man. They occupied two garrets at the end of the friary. 
 ■ that allotted to Father Mathew serving him for kitchen, 
 refectory, and dormitory. His companion had invitations 
 enough to dine where he pleased in the neighbourhood, 
 but the new comer, being a stranger, had to provide for 
 himself, and for some time upon a very scanty allowance. 
 The zeal and eloquence which his preaching revealed, 
 however, were not long in attracting a large congregation, 
 and the pecuniary resources of the- two friars improved 
 sufficiently to enable them to rent a house and live in 
 comfort. Father Mathew proposed that they should do 
 so, but the old friar preferred to remain in his garret ; 
 and a mutual affection and esteem having grown up 
 between them, Father Mathew yielded to his wishes, and 
 they continued to inhabit their respective attics until 
 the death of Father Donovan five years afterwards. 
 
 The appearance and bearing of Father Mathew when 
 he arrived at Cork has been thus described, and the 
 
 L 
 
162 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 
 charming picture presented to us may be received as a 
 faithful portrait of the philanthropist, making allowance 
 for the alterations in the outward man which years, sick- 
 ness, and overwhelming cares inevitably wrought : — 
 
 " In appearance, as well as reality, he was very youthful, and he 
 was strikingly handsome. About the middle stature, active and 
 well-formed in his body, with a comely and ingratiating presence, 
 his countenance, in which natural courtesy and religious feeling 
 strove for predominance, was the index of his disposition. He had 
 a manly complexion, [blue] eyes, large, bright, and sweet in ex- 
 pression, a slightly-curved nose, and rounded cheeks, with black 
 hair. In the words of Massinger — 
 
 * The fair outside 
 Was but the cover of a fairer mind.' 
 
 To great suavity of manners, which was a prominent characteristic 
 in his deportment, he joined dignity of carriage, and a compose 
 serenity of mind. A steady self-control presided over all his 
 and emotions. A cordial politeness and unvarying affability dis- 
 tinguished him. To the higher classes he was exceedingly respect- 
 ful, and was always considered by them as one of their order ; 
 the poor he was so gentle in his bearing, and so patient of their 
 little requests and petitions, so earnest in pleading their cause, 
 and what was better than kind words or noble speeches, so prac- 
 tically useful and humane, that they also (the more Christian 
 
 compliment) regarded him as one of themselves To 
 
 the ease of his address, his early intimacy with persons distin- 
 guished for manner may have contributed ; but, after all, polite- 
 ness, with Mr. Mathew, was a dictate of his heart, and attention to i 
 his solemn duties was never weakened by the discharge of the trivial 
 homages which the artificiality of society exacts from all its mem- 
 bers. If he never shocked the social prejudices of the higher 
 classes, neither did he ever cringe to them, nor dally with their 
 vices, nor preach in glozing style doctrines palatable to their 
 ears. On the other hand, in his intercourse with the humble poor, 
 he did not inflame their feelings of wrong to exasperation, or, by 
 bitter speeches, add fuel to their animosities. Yet it would be> 
 difficult to say with which extreme of society he was most popular. 
 . . In a few years his friary became the fashionable 
 
 
FATHER MATHEW. 163 
 
 -resort Mr. Mat-hew himself was always at the door to 
 
 receive the visitors to his place of worship. But while his notice was 
 eagerly sought by the rich and gay, no confessional was besieged 
 by the poor with the same ardour as that where c our own Father 
 Mat hew ' sat to rebuke vice, to assuage grief, and console misery."* 
 •• Anecdotes of his early days," writes a near connection of 
 Father Mathew, "describe him as not having the tastes for 
 amusement which characterise that period of life. What he 
 delighted in was inquiring into the condition of the indigent 
 poor in his neighbourhood, and looking forward with glee to the 
 moment when he could gather such contributions as would enable 
 hini to astonish poor suffering humanity with unexpected relief : 
 in this pursuit he spent all his leisure moments. As he grew up, 
 he extended his attention to the assistance of persons under pecu- 
 niary embarrassment, and often succeeded in saving them from 
 ruin. In this most difficult, branch of charity, it is scarcely cre- 
 dible how much he was able to achieve. Cases are numerous in 
 which respectable families were rescued from what seemed inevi- 
 table destruction. As his influence with all classes increased, his 
 intervention and untiring energy were almost invariably successful. 
 Harsh creditors were mollified, severe landlords brought to relent, 
 ind litigations stopped. One instance may be narrated, as the 
 parties are all dead. Three elderly ladies were involved in a law- 
 suit concerning certain property, and against no less formidable a 
 .person than the great O'Connell himself, who claimed to be the 
 rightful owner. They applied to Father Mathew, who waited upon 
 Mr. O'Connell, and, having ascertained that the suit would be a 
 most expensive one, assured him that his opponents would be pro- 
 vided with means to carry it on. Mr. O'Connell asked if he had 
 any proposal to make. ' Yes/ said Father Mathew; ( the old ladies 
 have not long to live ; they will give you the property at once, and 
 as they are your own cousins, you won't object to settling on them 
 lively £100 a-year each for life ?' The three sisters had this 
 £300 a-year, on which they lived happily for many years ; and it 
 Was a standing joke against O'Connell, that he had been outwitted 
 -imple friar." 
 
 He was sought by hundreds, who had no other friend, 
 
 * ' Ireland and its Rulers since 1829,' by Owen Madden. 
 
 T 9 
 
164 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 as trustee and executor of wills. Many a father has com- 
 mitted a bereft family to his care ; many a widowed 
 mother has died tranquil and resigned in the assurance 
 that the good Father Mathew would be the guardian of 
 her orphans. 
 
 With his money he was no less liberal than with his 
 time and labour. It was habitual with him to give sums 
 of fifty pounds, and even a hundred pounds, to struggling 
 respectable traders, or to young folks about to start in 
 business. Many families, now in easy, or, indeed, opulent 
 circumstances, owe their rise to his timely and munificent 
 yet scrupulously-secret generosity. 
 
 A pious and devout Roman Catholic, Father Mathew 
 in the discharge of the duties of his profession was exem- 
 plary. He was in daily attendance at his friary, from six 
 in the morning until noon ; on Saturdays and Sundays nearly 
 the whole day. When that humble building became too 
 \ small for his labours, he converted large storehouses into 
 school-rooms, where religious and secular instruction was 
 imparted to thousands of the rising generation. His 
 chapel affording insufficient accommodation to his increas- 
 ing flock, he commenced the building of a noble church, 
 the funds for which were chiefly supplied from his 
 own resources. Great inconvenience was felt by the 
 poor of the city from high burial fees. To remedy the 
 evil, Father Mathew purchased a beautiful piece ol 
 ground near Cork, which he converted into a cemetery, 
 devoting a large portion to the gratuitous use of the 
 poor. 
 
 He founded the " Josephian Society," enrolling under 
 that title a band of Protestant and Catholic ladies and 
 gentlemen, who were thus associated for the purpose of 
 visiting and relieving the poor in their own homes. This 
 
FATHER MATHEW. 165 
 
 m 
 
 society, which- has latterly been superseded by that of St. 
 Vincent de Paul and others, worked well for many years 
 and obtained the warm approbation of the Poor Law 
 mnissioners, who visited Ireland in 1834. 
 In the year 1832 the visitation of Asiatic cholera, 
 1 which committed such ravages throughout Europe, raged 
 < with fearful violence at Cork. The active benevolence of 
 Father Mathew shone forth conspicuous. Night and 
 morning he was to be seen penetrating the miserable lanes 
 of the most miserable parish in Cork — that in which his 
 friary stood. In the most wretched abodes he sought for 
 sufferers, whom he transferred to the shelter of the hos- 
 pital, or, if that were not possible, administered to them, 
 in their pestilence-stricken homes, plrysical relief and 
 ' spiritual consolation. During this dreadful time his 
 residence was constantly besieged by claimants on his 
 1 bounty. None had ever to complain of leaving it un- 
 \ answered or unaided ; his only happiness was in giving. 
 On one occasion his secretary said to him, " Sir, this is 
 the last shilling we have." The characteristic reply was, 
 " Give it, and let us trust to God." 
 
 Respected by the rich, adored by the poor, loving and 
 
 beloved by every sect, for his universal benevolence had 
 
 won him the esteem of all parties and creeds ; belonging 
 
 birth and education to the upper classes, but, by long 
 
 experience, thoroughly acquainted with the habits and 
 
 needs of his humbler brethren ; eminently gifted, intel- 
 
 ually and personally, with the qualities which win 
 
 >ular favour, but guarded by his singleness of purpose 
 
 1 entire devotion to the welfare of his fellow-beings 
 
 iii the temptation to abuse that popularity — such was 
 
 man to whom the little band of abstainers turned for 
 
 I in the mighty enterprise they contemplated. 
 

 166 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 Already had Father Mathew pondered the prin- 
 ciples they supported, and he had recently arrived at the 
 conviction that total abstinence alone could be relied 
 upon to effect a permanent victory over the drunken 
 habits of his countrymen. His tastes had always been 
 convivial, so far as a strict regard to temperance per- 
 mitted, but, having given the question of total abstinence 
 careful consideration, he determined to take the pledge. 
 It was about this time that the small society founded by 
 William Martin resolved to send two of its members to 
 Mr. Mathew, to solicit his adoption of its views. 
 
 One of the deputation was Mr. Olden, a Pro- 
 testant. "You, Mr. Mathew," he said, "have the 
 mission ; do not reject it." His companion was James 
 M'Kenna, a pensioner who had seen much service in the 
 army, and an enthusiastic teetotaller. The following 
 passage from a voluminous MS. collection of papers left 
 by him describes what took place when Father Mathew 
 joined the cause of teetotalism : — 
 
 "Father Mathew said he would consider the subject, and told 
 the deputation to see him in a few days. The reverend gentleman, 
 on the second visit, cheerfully acceded to the ardent wishes of the 
 society, and requested a meeting of the friends and advocates of 
 temperance, on the following Monday evening, in the small room 
 adjacent to the little chapel in Blackamoor -lane. It was on the 
 10th of April, 1838, this committee meeting was held. The Very 
 Rev. Mr. Mathew, addressing the members, said, c Gentlemen, I 
 hope you will give me such information as may be necessary for 
 the formation of the New Total Abstinence Society/ and in the 
 most emphatic manner said, if only one poor soul was rescued from 
 intemperance and destruction it would be doing a noble act, and 
 adding to the glory of God. On taking the pen into his hand he 
 uttered these remarkable words, f Here goes in the name of the Lord,' 
 and then wrote down his name — the Yery Eev. Theobald Mathew, 
 C.C. [Catholic Clergyman], Cove-street, No. 1." 
 
FATHER MATHEW. 167 
 
 He was then elected president of the society, M'Kenna 
 being appointed secretary. The first public meeting was 
 held at the old school-room in Blackamoor-lane. On the 
 following day large placards posted through the city 
 announced the Very Rev. Mr. Mathew as president of the 
 society. For one person who gave credit to this news 
 respecting Father Mathew, hundreds laughed, sneered, 
 and disbelieved. Interest in the movement, however, 
 increased. " Three hundred and thirty members were 
 enrolled at the second meeting. The old dilapidated 
 school-room was soon found too small, as well as dangerous 
 to the lives of the people, who were flocking in thousands 
 from all parts of the city, some to satisfy and convince 
 themselves, others to laugh and smile at what they called 
 the Utopian scheme of sobriety."* Father Mathew ob- 
 tained the use of a building known as the horse bazaar, 
 capable of holding 4,000 persons, and well-suited, there- 
 fore, to the crowds who now came to receive the pledge. 
 The news had spread through all the towns and villages 
 of Munster, Leinster, and Connaught, and hundreds of per- 
 sons every day — even thousands on Sundays after divine 
 service — were pledged, a dozen writers being occupied in 
 registering their names. From the 10th of April to the 
 14th of June, 1838, 25,000 persons of all denominations 
 took the pledge from the Rev. Mr. Mathew. By Decem- 
 ber of that year 156,000 were registered as having 
 received the pledge from him at Cork. 
 
 The pledge involves no oath or vow. It is simply a 
 promise which is binding upon the promiser only so long 
 as he remains a member of the Total Abstinence Society, 
 membership being, of course, purely voluntary. The 
 words are as follows : — " I promise, with the Divine 
 
 * 'Dublin University Magazine,' 1849. 
 
168 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 assistance, as long as I shall continue a member of the 
 Teetotal Temperance Society, to abstain from all intoxi- 
 cating drinks,* except for medicinal or sacramental pur- 
 poses ; and to prevent, as much as possible, by advice and 
 example, drunkenness in others." Father Mathew's pre- 
 decessors, in the cause of temperance, used to obtain the 
 signature of those who took the pledge, but he soon per- 
 ceived that so slow a process would not siiit the crowds 
 with whom he had to deal. In place of signing, he 
 substituted repeating the pledge, after he had recited it, 
 a method which enabled him to administer it to large 
 numbers simultaneously. In his clear, melodious voice, 
 which could be heard distinctly over a vast multitude, he 
 slowly enunciated it, laying peculiar stress upon the 
 word drunkenness, the syllables of which he pronounced 
 separately, and with a tone of voice and expression of 
 countenance indicative of his execration of the vice. 
 Then, extending his hand, lie added, " May God bless 
 you, and grant you strength and grace to keep your 
 promise," sometimes adding, " and make you good citizens, 
 subjects, sons, and husbands." After a time the people 
 sought a more personal intercourse with the good Father, 
 and he used to shake hands with them and wish them 
 success when the ceremony was over. But as the num- 
 bers increased from hundreds to thousands he was com- 
 pelled to employ a speedier method of complying with 
 their wishes, and adopted that of signing the cross upon 
 their foreheads. The pledge-takers knelt to receive it, 
 an arrangement made by Father Mathew, in the first 
 instance, for convenience' sake, that they might be dis- 
 tinguished from those who were already members of the 
 
 * Subsequently, to prevent evasion or mistake, Father Mathew added 
 the words, " cordials, cider, and fruit liquors." 
 
FATHER MATHEW. 169 
 
 society, and other spectators ; and afterwards preserved as 
 conducing to order and serious attention. But sometimes, 
 when the ground where the postulants had assembled was 
 wet and dirty, he administered the pledge to them stand- 
 ing. Frequently the only building available was a chapel, 
 and he then preferred administering it in the open air, unless 
 the weather made shelter indispensable. " I wish to 
 remark," he said at Kells, "that necessity alone compels 
 me to occupy a building which might give the least tinge 
 of sectarianism to our proceedings. My motives, how- 
 ever, are well known, and the presence of so many persons 
 differing from me in religious opinions is a sufficient 
 approval of them. I have for another reason a strong 
 objection to administer the pledge in a house of religious 
 worship, and it is this, that it always induces, or is the 
 cause of some irreverences, and, to a certain extent, a 
 desecration of the house of God." 
 
 Admission to the "Teetotal Temperance Society," 
 which had been gained by taking the pledge, was ratified 
 by the registration of the recipient's name, and by his 
 reception of a medal. This, should he subsequently desire 
 to leave the society, he could return, when his name would 
 be erased from the lists. If able to do so, the new mem- 
 ber paid a shilling for his medal, but to thousands who 
 had not the means Father Mathew supplied them gra- 
 tuitously, and sometimes also the expenses incurred in 
 travelling to meet him ; so unfounded was the charge 
 brought against the society of imposing a heavy cost upon 
 membership. 
 
 It has been alleged, also, that it was a superstitious 
 feeling towards Father Mathew, encouraged by him, 
 attributing miraculous powers of healing to his touch, 
 which attracted a large proportion of the multitudes who 
 
170 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 flocked to receive the pledge from him rather than from 
 others who were willing to administer it. That such a 
 belief, on the part of his more ignorant admirers, existed, 
 cannot be doubted. It is said to have originated in the 
 fact that a certain printer, who became a total abstainer, 
 recovered not only health and steadiness, but a fine head 
 of hair, after receiving the pledge from Father Mathew • 
 and doubtless it was confirmed by the striking improve- 
 ment in the physical as well as moral health which fre- 
 quently followed the relinquishment of all liquors by 
 those long accustomed to drink them in excess. 
 
 But that Father Mathew not only did not foster 
 credence in his possession of supernatural powers, but 
 steadily discouraged such credulity, we have abundant 
 reason to believe. It would be uncandid not to state 
 that many of Father Mathew' s associates were of opinion 
 that he did take advantage of the superstitious venera- 
 tion with which he was, by some classes, regarded, to 
 promote the reform he had at heart; but there is not 
 only the strong testimony to the contrary of others equally 
 intimate with him, but his own emphatic declaration, 
 addressed to thousands of hearers, that he was gifted with 
 no miraculous power. His reverence for truth, moreover — 
 which . led him upon one occasion somewhat sharply to 
 rebuke a zealous partisan who, in the exuberance of Irish 
 oratory, had over- stated the results obtained by the pro- 
 moters of temperance, and to remind him that no good 
 cause could be served by exaggeration — is in itself a 
 forcible argument against the supposition that Father 
 Mathew encouraged this delusion. It is admitted that 
 he did not refuse to receive applicants for his touch ; he 
 was of too kindly a nature to do so, but he amply ex- 
 plained his inability to be of use to them, and this he did 
 
FATHER MATHEW. 171 
 
 at one of his most remarkable meetings, held at Dublin, 
 in April, 1840, when the attention of the whole country- 
 was fixed upon him. 
 
 The event which gave to the advance of total ab- 
 stinence j>rinciples the character of a national movement 
 was his visit to Limerick in December, 1839. He had 
 journeyed thither, at the invitation of the Roman Catholic 
 Bishop, to preach a charity sermon in that city. He ap- 
 pears to have frequently received such invitations, a fact 
 easily accounted for by the large contributions he obtained. 
 On his arrival he was met by a congratulatory letter from 
 the Mayor, testifying to the great benefits he had already 
 wrought in promoting total abstinence. 
 
 It was not supposed by his friends in Limerick that he 
 could have much to do there in administering the pledge, 
 great numbers from that city having already enrolled them- 
 selves members of his society. To their joy the event 
 proved that they had greatly miscalculated. No sooner 
 was his coming made known in the surrounding counties 
 than thousands rushed to meet him. The extraordinary 
 scenes his visit presented have been thus graphically 
 described : — 
 
 " We are in the city of Limerick. It is the 2nd of December, 
 1839. As we entered the city we were astonished at the dense 
 crowds extending for two miles along the road, and now we find 
 the streets absolutely impassable from the masses which throng 
 them. We are told that accommodation for the night cannot be 
 obtained at any cost, that the public buildings have all been thrown 
 open, and that with every effort more than 5,000 persons must lie 
 in the street. We endeavour to obtain refreshment, and find that 
 a penny loaf has risen in price to threepence, and that we cannot 
 purchase a quart of milk for less than sixpence. At last, weary 
 and footsore, we are compelled to be content to pay two shil- 
 lings each for liberty to stand in a crowded cellar, so as to 
 escape tbe inclemency of the December night. Our amazement 
 
172 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 is redoubled when, in answer to our inquiries, we learn that this 
 ingathering of all the tribes arises simply from the fact that Father 
 Mathew is expected to visit Limerick on the morrow, for the 
 purpose of administering the temperance pledge to the people. 
 We remember the little room in Cork, and we stand abashed at 
 the recognition of the fact, that the despised fanaticism has become 
 a national regeneration. The grain of mustard-seed has grown 
 into a mighty tree. 
 
 " It is the 7th December, and we cannot leave the city. The 
 crowds pouring in prevent egress. We are carried with the 
 pressure along one of the streets ; and over the heads of the people 
 we are able to distinguish on the steps of a house a simple priest, 
 the cause of all this excitement. After four days' incessant exer- 
 tion his voice is gone, but he is administering the pledge to the 
 enthusiastic multitude. What a sight ! Twenty thousand persons 
 simultaneously kneel, and with tears and sobs declare themselves 
 resolved to abandon the tempting drink, and lead amended lives. 
 We are lifted from our feet, and as we are helplessly borne along 
 we see mounted soldiers, in attendance to preserve order, in like 
 manner carried away. At last, having succeeded in extricating 
 ourselves, we hear that the pressure has been so great as to break 
 down the iron railings and precipitate the crowd into the Shannon, 
 happily without serious results ; and we further ascertain that, 
 while we have been in Limerick, at least 150,000 persons have 
 taken the pledge." * 
 
 It was these days of toil and exposure for hour after 
 hour to every variety of weather — (it was his custom not 
 to wear his hat when administering the pledge, that he 
 might encourage the poor people by being bareheaded like 
 themselves) — that first injured the robust health of Father 
 Mathew. Thackeray, who visited Ireland about this 
 time, took him for much younger than his real age. He 
 says : — 
 
 "On the day we arrived in Cork, and as the passengers 
 descended from the drag, a stout, handsome, honest-looking man, 
 
 * 'Meliora,' April, 1860. 
 
FATHER MATHEW. 173 
 
 of some two-and-forty years, was passing by, and received a number 
 of bows from the crowd around. It was Theobald Mathew, with 
 whose face a thousand little print-shop windows had already 
 rendered me familiar. He shook hands with the master of the 
 carriage very cordially, and just as cordially with the master's 
 coachman, a disciple of temperance, as at least half Ireland is at 
 present. . . . His knowledge of the people is prodigious, and their 
 confidence in him as great ; and what a touching attachment those 
 poor fellows show to any one who has their cause at heart !" # 
 
 After Limerick, one of the most striking manifesta- 
 tions of the popular veneration for Father Mathew, and 
 the enthusiasm of the new converts to temperance, was 
 exhibited on his visit to Parsonstown, which has been 
 described by his friend and biographer, the Hev. James 
 Birmingham. The multitude assembled in a large, open 
 space, upon which stands the beautiful Roman Catholic 
 chapel. " In front of the chapel was stationed a large 
 body of police, presenting a very fine and well- disciplined 
 force. Outside these were the rifles, on bended knee, 
 with bayonets fixed and pointed, forming a barrier to 
 oppose the rushing multitudes ; whilst within and without 
 this barrier, to keep the passages clear, the cavalry, 'in 
 all the ponrp and circumstance of glorious war,' with flags 
 waving to the winds, moved up and down in slow and 
 measured pace. Beyond, and as far along the streets as 
 the eye could reach, were the congregated masses swaying 
 to and fro with every new impulse, and, by their united 
 voices, producing a deep, indistinct sound, like the mur- 
 mur of the ruffled waters of the sea. Within the vicarial 
 -idence, and in strong contrast to the stirring scene 
 without, sat the mild, unassuming, but extraordinary man, 
 round whom had collected this display of martial pomp and 
 numerical force. He seemed perfectly unconscious of the 
 
 * ' Irish Sketch-Book.' 
 
174 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 excitement lie had produced, and spoke and acted as if he 
 regarded himself as the least remarkable man of the age. 
 .... He has a fund of good humour and patience, 
 that seems to increase in proportion as he draws upon it. 
 Frequently is he addressed by a score of persons at a 
 time, he is teased and hauled, yet his temper is never 
 ruffled, his suavity and self-possession never leave him. 
 . . . After spending many hours in receiving almost 
 countless groups of postulants, he will stop on his way, to 
 induct three, two, or even one, into the Temperance 
 Society ; or he will rise from the table where he is 
 swallowing a mouthful of refreshment to administer the 
 pledge, should he discover that there is another stray 
 sheep to be brought back to the fold." * 
 
 The same biographer records an incident which oc- 
 curred during the good Father's visit to Borrisokane, 
 where crowds of both sexes and all ages and parties 
 rushed to receive the pledge at his hands. "Paddy 
 Hayes had been almost proverbially intemperate ; his 
 sober moments were far more few than his moments of 
 drunkenness. Still, on that memorable day, Shrove- 
 Tuesday, 1840, he presented himself as a postulant, 
 though reeling on the very confines of intoxication. I 
 intimated this man's approach to Mr. Mathew. In a 
 moment the advocate of temperance ordered a passage to 
 be cleared, and Paddy Hayes to be admitted. With a 
 smile, in which benignity and confidence were mingled, 
 he extended his hand to the penitent drunkard, saying, 
 ' Come forward, my poor fellow ; you were worth waiting 
 for.' The postulant cast himself upon his knees, with a 
 ' Heaven bless you, Father Mathew,' took the pledge, and 
 
 * * Memoir of the Very Rev. Theobald Mathew,' by the Rev. James 
 Birmingham, Dublin, 1840. 
 
FATHER MATHEW. 175 
 
 received the blessing. This man is now an industrious 
 and exemplary character ; and he often speaks with pride 
 of the honour done him by the Apostle of Temperance,"* 
 Father Mathew was now incessantly occupied in at- 
 tending vast meetings in all parts of the country. Some 
 special cause for a visit would arise — generally it was an 
 invitation to deliver a charity sermon — and, his coming 
 being publicly announced, every town, village, and 
 hamlet, for miles around, poured forth its crowds of 
 aspirants to the pledge. At Maynooth, after preaching 
 in aid of a newly consecrated church, a sermon, in which, 
 while intelligently explaining the symbolic forms of Ro- 
 man Catholic worship, he spoke in a spirit of perfect 
 tolerance of other creeds, and acknowledged, in warm 
 and graceful terms, the contributions received from 
 Protestants towards defraying the cost of the build- 
 ing, he found a vast crowd assembled to receive 
 the pledge. In his address to them he expressed 
 the gratification a letter from a Protestant Dissenting 
 lady had given him, who had told him of her sym- 
 pathy in his labours, and her prayers to God that the 
 grace of humility might not be taken from him in his 
 great success. He exhorted his hearers to abstain, not 
 only from ordinary intoxicating drinks, but from liquors 
 also, which, he explains elsewhere, cannot be manu- 
 factured, if intended for future use, without the admix- 
 ture of a certain quantity of alcohol ; and told them that 
 the most pleasing feature of the day to him was to see 
 such overwhelming numbers congregated together, and 
 not one affected with any intoxicating liquor, t 
 
 Before Father Mathew left Maynooth he had pledged 
 20,000 to observe total abstinence, among whom were 
 * Birmingham's ' Memoir.' f ' Catholic Luminary.' 
 
176 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 five professors and 150 students of the college. At other 
 important towns, equal or greater triumphs awaited him, 
 while the congratulatory addresses, illuminations, pealing of 
 bells, and every form of enthusiastic welcome which greeted 
 him wherever he went, rendered his progress through the 
 country one continued ovation. At Athlone, he ad- 
 ministered the pledge to the enormous number of 100,000, 
 and at Dublin the recipients amounted to 140,000, which, 
 with those pledged previously by other priests and by 
 himself at a subsequent visit, included two-thirds of the 
 population of the metropolis. Here, too, while preaching 
 a charity sermon, he delivered a noble protest against 
 bigotry leading to a rage for proselytism : — 
 
 " The Gospel by its influence tempers the fierce heart of man : 
 it softens the roughness of its spirit, and unites all mankind in one 
 strong and compact band of fellow charity and affection under 
 f one Lord and one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all f 
 and, as our Saviour again says in another place, f *By these shall 
 all men know that you are my disciples, that you love one an- 
 other.' Oh, what motives to charity, union, and brotherly love ! 
 We are all engaged in the same pursuit. Heaven is our glorious 
 immortality, and we are instructed in the same Gospel. Wise and 
 beautiful are its maxims — sublime and full of wisdom are its 
 precepts, commanding us not alone to do works of charity for the 
 God of heaven, but those founded on the broad basis of natural 
 equity — f That we should do to all men what we in return would 
 expect they would do to us' — to render that subjection and 
 obedience which we owe the State for the protection of life and 
 property, or, in the words of the sacred writer, to f render unto 
 Csesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are 
 God's.' Allow me to draw your attention to one instance of the 
 fruits of not following its counsel to c love one another,' and from 
 what I have said, my illustration will appear still clearer to your 
 understandings : — It is with respect to that system of proselytism 
 which is so opposed to the spirit of the Gospel, and had recourse to 
 by the enemies of the peace and happiness of the community. 
 
FATHER MATHEW. 177 
 
 This system is not injurious alone by the arguments which are 4 
 offered in support of each particular doctrine, but it tends to darken 
 the prospects of futurity, to deprive the mind of receiving the 
 high and holy impulses of universal charity, and to throw out temp- 
 tations to induce men to offer violence to their own consciences. I 
 myself called on a gentleman, who differed from me in belief, to 
 assist in the completion of an edifice for Catholic worship, in which 
 I was engaged, who immediately handed me five pounds for that 
 purpose, adding, ' As it is utterly impossible for me to convert 
 your people to Protestantism, do you then go, in the name of God, 
 and make them good Roman Catholics."* 
 
 While in Dublin Father Mathew was entertained at 
 a temperance tea-party in Trinity College, when nine of 
 the students were admitted into his society. Their ad- 
 mission was peculiarly gratifying to him. He commented 
 upon the excellent example which, by joining the Total 
 Abstinence Association, persons of their station and talent 
 afforded, and told them that he should, as a mark of his 
 esteem and respect, present them with silver medals, t 
 
 At Galway, where, within two days, he admitted 
 100,000 members, he met Daniel O'Connell; but the 
 popularity of the "Liberator" was surpassed by that of 
 the " Apostle of Temperance," as Father Mathew was now 
 universally called. 
 
 By November, 1844, Father Mathew "had registered 
 in Ireland 5,640,000 adherents of total abstinence prin- 
 ciples. Of these it is computed that there are 1,000,000 
 children. It is ascertained that not more than one in 
 500, on an average, has violated the pledge ; and of this 
 number the majority avail themselves of the first oppor- 
 . to be once more admitted as members." J The 
 pledged comprised persons of both sexes, and of all ranks 
 
 * ' Catholic Luminary.' f Birmingham's ' Memoir.' 
 
 X ' The Temperance Movement. 
 
 M 
 
178 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 ^and sects. Among the number were many hundred 
 ministers of religion, including eight Roman Catholic 
 bishops. 
 
 For the results of this great movement we turn to 
 the pages of " Meliora " : — 
 
 Cf Our eye is caught by a statement in a "Waterford newspaper of 
 1839, which informs us that only five prisoners were on the assize 
 calendar for that year, although in the previous year's list there 
 had been 159. Turning over the newspapers still further, we 
 gather that, in 1839, 3,202 persons were confined in Richmond 
 Bridewell, in Dublin, while, in 1840, they numbered 2,108, and, in 
 1841, only 1,604. The same source affords the information that, 
 in 1838, the Dublin Savings' Bank numbered 7,264 depositors, but 
 increased to 9,585 in 1841. Turning to the criminal and assize 
 reports, which forms so large a proportion of the news of journals, 
 we read words spoken by Justice Burton at Down Assizes, in 1842, 
 and corroborated by Baron Pennefather, at Meath, congratulating 
 the grand jury on the absence of crime, c evidently the effect of 
 temperance.' And we are not surprised that the judges should 
 congratulate the magistracy, when we learn that at Cork, during 
 the eight months intervening between the autumn assizes of 1844 
 and the spring of 1845, only one prisoner had been committed for 
 
 trial Returns moved for [in the House of Commons] 
 
 by Sir B. Ferguson, tell us that, in 1838, the consumption of 
 whisky in Ireland was 12| millions of gallons, while, in 1841, it 
 was only 6 J millions ; and that, within two years, there had been a 
 decrease in the revenue from spirits of at least half a million pounds 
 sterling." * 
 
 Two hundred and thirty-seven public-houses were 
 closed in Dublin during 1840 ;+ and — a significant fact- 
 on the 19th November of the same year, Smithfield Peni- 
 tentiary was also closed — the citizens of Dublin being thus 
 relieved from the entire expense of one prison. "The 
 benefits conferred on the working classes by this move- 
 ment was well illustrated at the Knockmahon Mines, in 
 * ' Meliora.' f 'Temperance Movement.' 
 
FATHER MATHEW. 179 
 
 the vicinity of Waterford, employing about 1,000 persons. 
 The average earnings of the men, previously to the in- 
 troduction of Teetotalism, was £1,900 per month, of 
 which sum £500 was spent in drink; in 1840, the 
 monthly earnings of the same persons, at the same 
 work, reached £2,300, of which very little was spent 
 in drink."* 
 
 Of statistics, these will suffice. We now give the 
 result of the personal observation of individuals wholly 
 unbiassed, and raised above the influences which create a 
 feeling of partisanship. The following letter is from the 
 Marquis of Lansdowne to Father Mathew : — 
 
 "Cork, 15th Sept., 1840. 
 
 "Eev. Sir, — I am near the conclusion of a journey through 
 a considerable portion of the sonth of Ireland, in the course of 
 which I have myself had, everywhere, repeated occasion to observe 
 a most remarkable change for the better in the appearance of the 
 population, and to be assured by others on whom I could rely of 
 an equally manifest improvement in their character and conduct, 
 produced by the extraordinary success of your unremitting en- 
 deavour to introduce amongst them confirmed habits of temperance 
 and self-control. 
 
 " I had hoped to have had an opportunity, at this place, of 
 expressing to you personally the deep sense I entertain, both as an 
 Irish proprietor and a public servant, of the value of your exertions, 
 obviously conducive, as they must prove under all circumstances, to 
 the maintenance of peace and order, and to a greater development 
 than could by any other means be attained, of every social virtue. 
 
 "Your temporary absence from home has alone prevented 
 my doing so, and I trust I may be permitted to take the only 
 method in my power of recording these sentiments in a mode that 
 may not be disagreeable to you, by inclosing a draft for £100, and 
 requesting the favour of you to apply it to the use of any one of 
 the institutions for the benefit of your poorer countrymen in which 
 
 * ■ Temperance Cyclopaedia,' London, 1851. 
 
 M 2 
 
180 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 you take an interest, and which, in your judgment, stands most in 
 need of pecuniary assistance. 
 
 " I am, Eev. Sir, with sincere respect, 
 
 "Your obedient servant, 
 "Eev. T. Mathew."* . "Lansdowne." 
 
 A few months subsequent to the date of this letter, it 
 was our privilege to make the personal acquaintance of 
 Maria Edgeworth. During a morning spent in her society, 
 and of which a record made at the time enables us to 
 repeat with accuracy what fell from her lips, much that 
 she said related to Father Mathew and the reformation he 
 had wrought in the habits of the Irish people. She spoke 
 of him with deep respect and admiration, and gave her 
 testimony against the imputation that he fostered the 
 belief of his ignorant countrymen in his possession of super- 
 natural power, assuring us that he sought at all times to 
 impress upon them that he was endowed with no influence 
 beyond that which attached to his character and position. 
 In aid of the movement, she had promoted the establish- 
 ment of coffee-shops, to supersede public -houses, in her 
 own neighbourhood in Ireland ; and she told us that she 
 had weaned a gardener, in her employment, from intem- 
 perance by giving him a cup of hot coffee in the morning 
 before he went to his daily work. The effects of total 
 abstinence she has elsewhere described : — 
 
 " In our village of Edgeworthstown, the whisky-selling has 
 diminished since the f pledge ' has been taken, within the last two 
 years, so as to leave the public-houses empty, and to oblige the 
 landlord to lower house-rent considerably. This we know to our 
 pecuniary loss — I need not add to our moral satisfaction. The 
 appearance of the people, their quiet demeanour at markets and 
 fairs, has wonderfully improved in general, and to the knowledge of 
 this family, many notorious drinkers, and some, as it was thought, 
 
 * * Catholic Luminary.' 
 
FATHER MATHEW. 181 
 
 con firmed drunkards, have been completely reformed by taking the 
 pledge. They have become able and willing to work, and take care 
 of their business ; are decently clothed, and healthy, and happy, 
 and now make their wives and children healthy and happy, instead 
 of, as before the reformation, miserable and heart-broken. Very few, 
 scarcely any instances of breaking the pledge have as } r et come to 
 our knowledge ; but some have occurred. The culprits have been 
 completely shunned and disgraced, so that they are awful warnings 
 to others. . . . Beyond all calculations, beyond all precedents, and 
 all examples from the past, and all analogy, this wonderful crusade 
 against the bad habits of nations, the bad habits and sensual tastes 
 of individuals, has succeeded and lasted for about two years." # 
 
 Mrs. S. C. Hall, too, than whom no one perhaps is 
 more intimately acquainted with the people of Ireland 
 and their previous condition, writes : " We have witnessed 
 the prodigious effects of temperance in improving the 
 character and bettering the condition of the Irish pea- 
 santry." 
 
 Dr. Channing, the distinguished American Unitarian, 
 concludes his still more emphatic testimony in these 
 words : " History records no revolution like this ; it is the 
 grand event of the present day; Father Mathew, the 
 leader in this moral revolution, ranks far above the heroes 
 and statesmen of the times. However, as Protestants, we 
 may question the claims of departed saints, here is a 
 living minister, if he may be judged from one work, who 
 deserves to be canonised, and whose name should be 
 placed in the calendar, not far below apostles, "t 
 
 The disinterestedness of Father Mathew in his crusade 
 against intemperance — a crusade preached with such per- 
 suasive fervour that Cardinal Wiseman compared its 
 author with Peter the Hermit £ — gave a moral force to his 
 
 * 'Chambers' Journal,' January, 1857. 
 t ' Dublin University Magazine.' J * Catholic Luminary.' 
 

 182 
 
 OUK EXEMPLARS. 
 
 denunciations of the liquor traffic, which influenced even 
 the vendors themselves, and it was not unusual for the 
 public-houses to be decorated during a temperance pro- 
 cession, or to furnish the benches and tables for an ex- 
 temporaneous platform.* 
 
 " His private resources, not very large, chiefly consisting of 
 legacies from relations, he cheerfully expended in the temperance 
 cause. He was left a distillery at Castle Lake, in Tipperary, with 
 a good deal of money. He broke it up at a vast loss to himself, 
 and refused a large rent for it, when it was offered to be taken by 
 parties in a distillery. He had one brother embarked in distilling ; 
 one of his sisters was married to an eminent distiller ; and another 
 brother was married to a lady whose family were extensively en- 
 gaged in the manufacture of whisky. But regardless of the com- 
 mercial injury his own friends and kindred must suffer from the 
 cause of temperance, regardless of his own pecuniary ' losses, he 
 entered on his course of exertion and never slackened his toil."f 
 
 " There is no public good," he said at Kells, " effected without 
 some individual injury being occasioned ; the introduction of steam- 
 engines, for example, put, necessarily, many hands out of employ- 
 ment ; the railroad conveyances have seriously affected stage-coach 
 proprietors, and those who had hack-coaches and cars to let out 
 for hire ; but the public is confessedly benefited by such improve- 
 ments. In the making and vending of spirits and other deleterious 
 drinks, many have previously made a livelihood, and some a for- 
 tune, whilst not a few of them have been sufferers to a considerable 
 extent. I am, however, happy to say that numbers of them have 
 nobly come forward and joined our society. To be sure, in every 
 change, be they ever so pregnant with blessings for the community, 
 some interested persons will be always found to stand up and oppose 
 their progress ; and so it is with us. Some concerned in the manu- 
 facturing and retailing of deleterious drinks cry out incessantly 
 against our society. They forcibly remind me of the conduct of 
 the people of Ephesus to St. Paul, when he came among them to 
 preach the Gospel, and diffuse the blessings of Christianity. Many 
 of them were silversmiths, whose principal emolument arose from 
 
 1 Meliora.' 
 
 f * Dublin University Magazine.' 
 
FATHER MATHEW. 183 
 
 the making of statues of the goddess Diana (the idol then wor- 
 shipped at Ephesus), and their constant cry then was, c Great is 
 Diana of the Ephesians/ Thus it is always with many in this 
 country engaged in the spirit trade, who are heard to cry out in- 
 cessantly, ' Great is Whisky ! Potent is Ale ! Great is Whisky ! 
 Potent is Ale ! ' But I say to you, 4 Greater, far greater still, is 
 Temperance— greater, far greater still, is Teetotalism/"* 
 
 Among the earliest of the congratulatory addresses 
 which, as his mission advanced, poured in upon Father 
 Mat hew from all sides, was one from an English Total 
 Abstinence Society, of which the Earl of Stanhope was 
 president, inviting him to be present at their anniversary 
 festival, on the 1 4th May, 1 840. It was not, however, until 
 three years later that Father Mathew came to England, 
 though in August, 1842, he went to Glasgow, and there 
 administered the pledge to many thousands. In the fol- 
 lowing July he attended the annual meeting of a Temper- 
 ance Association at York, where, as at the many large 
 towns and cities of England that he visited, including 
 the metropolis, he was most enthusiastically received. 
 
 Dr. F. R. Lees, who was instrumental in obtaining 
 Father Mathew' s presence at this Conference, and who 
 t a week with him at York, says : — 
 
 " I found the secret of his power to be an utter unselfishness, a 
 
 generous outflowing of sympathy for human suffering— a perfect 
 
 i of benevolence. . . . His memory of faces was something 
 
 wonderful. I recollect at Leeds being singled out by the Father 
 
 from a multitude of some 10,000, in the very midst of which I had 
 
 got, being called to the platform, and receiving the apostolic em- 
 
 : . . . The good Father had nothing of the spirit of the 
 
 it' about him. He would read, expound the Scriptures, and 
 
 pray with Protestants in the most apostolic fashion ; or, after the 
 
 readin_ - himself happy in the silent devotions of the 
 
 [ids/ 5 
 
 * ( Catholic Luminary.' 
 
184 OUK EXEMPLARS. 
 
 In a report of his reception at Leeds, Father Mathew' s 
 style of oratory is thus described : — 
 
 " Hitherto his least-recognised excellence by Englishmen has 
 been as a public speaker ; but his addresses at Leeds, York, and 
 other parts of England, prove that in this capacity his merits have 
 not been duly understood or appreciated. . . . His speeches in 
 general are as simple as his attire ; they are always short, pointed, 
 and harmonious, often clothed in interesting similes, drawn from 
 surrounding or familiar objects, and invariably appropriate 4 and 
 well-selected. His addresses, however, are never distinguished by 
 the gaudy ornaments of rhetoric; their elegance and force are 
 more consistent with the language natural to an enlarged, fervid, 
 and virtuous heart, than with studied nicety of arrangement, or a 
 lofty, figurative style. Many public speakers are more eloquent — 
 most more tedious ; yet few are more sincere, pleasing, effective, 
 and fewer in all things more charitable." # 
 
 During his visit to London Father Mathew received 
 marked attention from those most distinguished for rank 
 \ and influence, among whom may be mentioned Sir Robert 
 Peel and the Duke of Wellington. When he left England 
 he had administered the pledge to a quarter of a million 
 of her population, including several members of the 
 aristocracy. 
 
 A proof of the high estimation in which he was held 
 by the Roman Catholic clergy of the diocese of Cork, 
 was afforded by their sending, in 1847, his name with 
 two others to Rome, for selection to fill the bishopric then 
 vacant. The Pope's choice fell upon Dr. Delaney, but 
 about the same time Father Mathew received a pressing 
 invitation to Rome from the head of his Church. To 
 have accepted it would have gratified the dearest wish of 
 his heart, but famine and pestilence were ravaging Ireland, 
 and he resolved not to abandon his unhappy country. 
 
 * i Leeds Mercury.' 
 
FATHER MATHEW. 185 
 
 " Disease, starvation, death, stalked abroad in the day- 
 light, and the road-sides were scattered with the corpses 
 of the perishing people. In Cork, a city of the plague, 
 Father 3 la the w was found at his old post, distributing 
 alms, organising committees of relief, and bringing the 
 whole force of his experience to the business of charity." 
 Not even "the interests of his darling object, the tem- 
 perance movement, could draw him from his post of duty. 
 Faithfully he devoted himself to the alleviation of the 
 distress and sufferings of his poor flock. His name was 
 gely instrumental in procuring some of the timely 
 relief which all Christian nations hastened to afford to 
 his unhappy country."* 
 
 During this terrific visitation every penny he could 
 command was expended in relief of the sufferers. His 
 
 11 private fortune had long since melted away, before 
 the incessant demands upon it of the total abstinence 
 movement. A pension of £300 a-year, granted to him 
 by the Queen at the recommendation of Sir Robert Peel, 
 
 veil as large subscriptions raised for him throughout 
 the United Kingdom, as soon as it was known he was in 
 want of money — he was once, at Dublin, even arrested 
 
 debt — were similarly swallowed up. Further sums 
 would promptly have been placed at his disposal, but he 
 
 ild not himself permit it. Mr. Rathbone, of Liver- 
 
 1, and Mr. Haughton, of Dublin, had been foremost 
 on a long list of munificent supporters, and it is well 
 known that if Father Mathew had given either of these 
 
 rlemen timely intimation of the state of his pecuniary 
 
 affairs, he would have been saved the embarrassments 
 
 which embittered his latter days, and hastened his death. 
 
 Mr. Dowden Richard, one of the earliest labourers in the 
 
 * 'Meliora.' 
 
186 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 cause of total abstinence in Ireland, and who knew Father 
 Mathew intimately, speaks of him as naturally a prudent 
 man. A member of a wealthy family, however, and under 
 the almost certain expectation of inheriting a legacy which 
 would more than cover his benevolent expenditure, he 
 felt it no duty to resist the temptation to spend money 
 largely in support of a cause to which he was devoting 
 every other gift with which his Maker had endowed him \ 
 and when the expected fortune did not come he was 
 irretrievably involved in debt. No one acquainted with 
 the cost incident to the working of any social reform, still 
 more of a movement of such vast proportions as that of 
 which Father Mathew was the leader, will be surprised 
 that its demands left him worse than penniless. For 
 example, in the county and city of Cork alone there were 
 upwards of forty temperance societies. Founded often 
 upon an impulse of the moment, and in localities where 
 they interfered with each other's success, they not unfre- 
 quently got into debt, when Mr. Mathew, who was a 
 subscriber to every one of them, had to contribute to 
 their relief. Again, a still more painful source of expen- 
 diture often arose. The smaller publicans were driven 
 out of their trade in hundreds ; drink being no longer 
 bought, the drink-sellers were reduced to ruin. Their 
 wives and children used to seek help from Father Mathew, 
 and though he expended large sums in their relief, it was 
 only by using the utmost care and economy that he could 
 make even these suffice to save from starvation all who 
 applied to him. His example in this matter should never 
 be forgotten ; and in labouring to inculcate the doctrine 
 of temperance, it may be that among the many means 
 employed to secure success none will be found more legi- 
 timate, as approving itself to our sense of justice, than 
 
FATHER MATHEW. 187 
 
 that of providing the drink-sellers, who, it must be re- 
 membered, may have pursued their calling unconscious of 
 offence, with the means of escape from that destitution 
 which the destruction of their trade involves. 
 
 Another occasion for expense arose in the bands of 
 music, and other provision for innocent recreation, which 
 Father Mathew was careful to substitute for the grosser 
 indulgences he called upon his followers to abandon. 
 Indeed, to have seen Father Mathew in his glory, he 
 must have been beheld at a temperance tea-party, sur- 
 rounded by two or three hundred men, women, and 
 children, all in high enjoyment, stacks of bread-and- 
 butter, and cups of tea, large and full, before them, their 
 animal spirits in a glow, and their happiness overflowing 
 in harmless mirth. Innocent pleasure he justly regarded 
 is a potent ally of virtuous self-control. Mechanics' 
 institutions, reading-rooms, temperance festivals with 
 attendant music, were established in all directions ; and in 
 lira through Ireland it seems to have been a matter 
 of course for him to present sums of 10?. or 201. to their 
 
 It is true that Father Mathew may have been too 
 
 profuse in his donations. Money, we are told, he could 
 
 keep ; and often he was seen in England passing 
 
 into the hands of his poor countrymen, even while 
 
 bidding them in a half-scolding tone to go and 
 
 not to beg As his heart was loving his hand was open. 
 
 He valued money only as the means of assisting others, 
 
 and the man who was one of the wonders of the age, 
 
 tor to all who needed his assistance, died 
 
 If a dependent, and not possessed of a shilling he 
 
 oould term his own.* 
 
 * ' Chambers' Journal.' 
 
188 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 To have spent, in however meritorious a manner, 
 money not absolutely his, and to have yielded to the 
 importunate demands of beggars whose claims he had not 
 the means to investigate, were errors on the part of 
 Father Mathew, as his warmest admirers must admit. 
 But they were errors incident to his generous nature, and 
 our eyes are too much dazzled by the lustre of his virtues 
 to rest uj)on these spots on the sun. 
 
 The health of Father Mathew was now fast failing. 
 His enormous physical exertions, and carelessness of per- 
 sonal comfort, had undermined his vigorous constitution, 
 while pecuniary embarrassments contributed to harass his 
 mind ; but the misery encompassing him on every side 
 during the awful years of 1 847 and 1848, together with the 
 relapse from temperance which latterly he had the anguish 
 to behold, immeasurably aggravated his sufferings. They 
 resulted in the malady — paralysis — to which eventually 
 * he sank a victim. 
 
 The partial, though unhappily extensive return to 
 intemperance which constitutes a fact deeply humiliating 
 to the native country of Father Mathew, is, however, not 
 without extenuating circumstances. The very enthusiasm 
 which induced the Irish by millions to yield to his exhor- 
 tations, and even led them to believe — notwithstanding his 
 earnest protest to the contrary — in his miraculous powers, 
 was, in its essential evanescence, an element of failure. 
 O'Connell's agitation for Repeal, when, like an ignis faluiis, 
 his delusive promises of a fictitious and impossible 
 advantage led the Irish to disregard the solid benefits 
 bestowed upon them by Father Mathew, and the excite- 
 ment in which the "agitator's" monster meetings and 
 inflammatory language involved them, revived their 
 stifled, but not vanquished, passion for strong drink. 
 
FATHER MATHEW. 189 
 
 Then followed famine and pestilence, and in that crisis 
 of physical exhaustion, of agony, and of despair, who can 
 wonder that the wretched people had recourse to what, 
 until a few years previously, had been the national refuge 
 from every evil, and which, though really it aggravated 
 their misery, did for the moment assuage their sufferings ? 
 It seems to us that no stronger argument can be 
 adduced in support of the prohibition of the sale of 
 alcoholic drinks than the experience of Father Mathew. 
 He emancipated the most drunken people on the face of 
 the earth from this their national vice. Blessings from 
 every lip testified their gratitude for the boon he had 
 ved, and their appreciation of its value. The pledge 
 which restored to them their freedom from the most 
 enslaving of tyrants, they observed long enough to taste 
 the sweets of liberty ; and yet when temptation crossed 
 their path, they had not resolution to resist the fiend from 
 whom their good angel had released them. Had a Maine 
 law followed the national adoption of the pledge, while 
 the Irish were yet exulting in their redemption, how 
 different would now have been the social condition of 
 their country ! " With rapture," wrote Father ^athew 
 early in 1853, " I hail the formation of the United King- 
 dom Alliance [for the total prohibition of the liquor 
 tralfic]. I laboured for the suppression of intemperance 
 until I sacrificed my health and little property in the 
 glorious cause. The efforts of individuals, however 
 ere not equal to the mighty task. The United 
 lorn Alliance strikes at the very root of the evil. I 
 in God th^jfc the associated efforts of many good and 
 olent men will effectually crush a monster gorged 
 with human gore."* 
 
 * 'The Other Side;' by the Rev. Dawson Burns, Manchester, 1860. 
 
190 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 During the whole of his career the utmost admiration 
 for Father Mathew had been evinced in America, and 
 many pressing invitations had reached him to visit his 
 countrymen, numbered by millions, in the United States. 
 Notwithstanding his broken health, in 1849 he crossed 
 the Atlantic, accompanied by his valued and able friend 
 and secretary, Mr. David O'Meara. He was received 
 with acclamation, not only by his compatriots, but by 
 the whole American people, who treated him as the 
 nation's guest. 
 
 The labour and excitement he underwent overstrained 
 his enfeebled frame, and brought on two attacks of his 
 disease — paralysis. To recover from their effects, he was 
 advised to try the medicinal springs in the backwoods 
 of Arkansas, and spent a month in that remote locality 
 in a log-hut. 
 
 On the day of his departure from America for Ireland, 
 November 8th, 1851, his farewell address appeared in the 
 New York papers. In touching language he thanked the 
 Americans and his own countrymen for their cordial 
 reception and the kindnesses showered upon him through 
 the length and breadth of the land. He expressed his 
 gratification in having become personally acquainted with 
 some of her most eminent citizens ; and, exhorting the 
 Irish to render themselves, by industry, sobriety, and 
 self-respect, worthy of the position open to them in 
 their adopted country, he concluded with an eloquent 
 tribute to the political and social blessings enjoyed by the 
 American people. 
 
 Justly estimating, as we trust we do, all that is 
 enlightened and noble in the United States, still we can- 
 not, alas ! echo Father Mathew' s panegyric. His warm 
 Irish heart, fervent with gratitude for the sympathy and 
 
FATHER MATHEW. 191 
 
 hospitality he had everywhere received, his thoughts 
 absorbed by the one topic which constituted his mission 
 on earth, he forgot, when he lauded, " that broad and 
 comprehensive spirit of patriotism which makes every 
 inhabitant of this mighty republic — from the Atlantic to 
 the Pacific, from Maine to California — glory in the title 
 of an American citizen" — when he characterised Ame- 
 rica as " extending the hand of succour to the helpless 
 exile, affording an asylum to the persecuted, and a home 
 to the oppressed," that she held in the chains of slavery 
 millions of inhabitants whom she had iniquitously de- 
 prived of citizenship ; that her unrighteous conduct had 
 driven crowds of" helpless exiles" beyond her boundaries ; 
 and that her sons were persecutors of the "persecuted," 
 her land a prison and a scaffold for the "oppressed." 
 Dark as was the stain which Father Mathew strove to 
 expunge from the annals of humanity, it was as nothing 
 beside the black turpitude of American . slavery ! May 
 the day be not far distant when the efforts of that gallant 
 band among her children, who, disregarding every per- 
 sonal interest, sacrifice all hope of advancement in fortune 
 and worldly honour, and risk even life itself in the sacred 
 cause of emancipation, shall free their country from her 
 foul disgrace ! 
 
 In the same paper which published his parting address, 
 appeared this summary of Father Mathew' s labours in 
 the United States : — 
 
 " On reviewing his exertions for the past two years and a half, 
 we are forcibly struck with the vast amount of physical fatigue 
 which he must have undergone in the discharge of his onerous 
 duties. Over sixty years of age, enfeebled in health, and shattered 
 in constitution, he has yet, with all the ardour of his former zeal, 
 _ orously prosecuted his ' labour of love/ He has visited, since 
 his arrival in America, twenty -five states of the union — has admi- 
 

 
 192 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 nistered the temperance pledge in over 300 of our principal towns 
 and cities — has added more than half a million of our population to 
 the long muster-roll of his disciples ; and, in accomplishing this 
 praiseworthy object, has travelled 37,000 miles, which, added to two 
 voyages across the Atlantic, would make a total distance nearly 
 equal to twice the circumnavigation of the globe. Though labouring 
 under a disease which the slightest undue excitement may render 
 fatal, never has he shrunk from his work of benevolence and love. 
 North and south, east and west, was he to be seen, unostentatiously 
 pursuing the heavenly task of reclaiming his fallen brother, wel- 
 coming the prodigal son back into the bosom of society, uttering 
 the joyful tidings that no man is past the hour of amendment, 
 dealing in no denunciation, indulging in no hypocritical cant or 
 pretensions to pharasaical sanctity, but quietly and unobtrusively 
 pursuing his peaceful course, and, like his illustrious sainted pro- 
 totype, reasoning of c temperance, justice, and judgment to come/ 
 When his physicians recently recommended absolute repose, in the 
 midst of his labours in a crowded city, as indispensable to his 
 recovery from the last attack of paralysis, c Never,' replied the 
 venerable old man, { will I, willingly, sink into a state of inglorious 
 inactivity ; never will I desert my post in the midst of the battle/ 
 c But your life/ replied his physicians, c is at stake/ ' If so,' said 
 he, f it cannot be sacrificed in a better cause. If I am to die, I 
 will die in harness/ " # 
 
 In 1852 lie repaired, by the advice of his physicians, 
 to Madeira, but his health derived no benefit from the 
 change, and he came home more enfeebled than he went. 
 For four years he lingered, gradually declining in strength, 
 but retaining the same sweetness of manner and thought- 
 ful kindness for his friends which had marked his most 
 vigorous days. He had taken up his abode at Lehena, 
 near Cork, the residence of his brother, and there he 
 admitted, with all his wonted benevolence, the applicants, 
 who still crowded to receive from him the pledge, or 
 alms, or spiritual relief. Towards the close of the sum- 
 
 * New York Herald, Nov. 8, 1851. 
 
FATHEK MATHEW. 
 
 193 
 
 mer of 1856, still seeking benefit to his health, he 
 removed to Queenstown ; but he grew yet weaker and 
 weaker, until, in December, he was seized with a 
 sixth paralytic stroke. During this, his last illness, his 
 bedside was anxiously and tenderly watched by the 
 Sisters of Mercy and Roman Catholic clergy of Queens- 
 town. He lingered, conscious of his approaching end, 
 until Monday, the 8th, two days after his seizure, when, 
 serene, resigned, and apparently without pain, the patriot- 
 martyr breathed his last. The city which, for upwards 
 of forty years, had been blessed with his ministrations, 
 felt her loss. The next day, every vessel in her harbour 
 and river appeared with its colours half-mast high, and 
 almost every shop was partially closed. 
 
 On Wednesday his remains were brought from 
 Queenstown to the chapel dedicated to the Holy Trinity, 
 which he had founded in Cork ; and, on Friday, he was 
 interred with every possible demonstration of public re- 
 spect and private affection. 
 
 "Despite the drenching rain which fell during the morning, 
 crowds thronged the vicinity of the chapel. f Father Mathew,' one 
 man remarked, c had stood bareheaded for many an hour trying to 
 get us to give up the drink.' And there the assemblage, estimated 
 at 30,000 persons, continued until the mortuary ceremonial within 
 the chapel had concluded, and the long mournful procession, issuing 
 from the central porch, bore the mortal remains of its founder to 
 the tomb in the centre of that cemetery which stands another 
 monument of his benevolent exertions. As the coffin came in 
 sight, one deep, sorrowing, heartfelt moan escaped from the im- 
 mense multitude, swelling, ere long, into loud wailing and lamen- 
 tation — no matter-of-course keening, but the expression of sincere 
 sorrow. The shops in the city were all closed, and, during the 
 morning, all business was completely suspended." * 
 
 * ' Chambers' Journal/ 
 
 N 
 
h. i. 
 
 
 194 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 In the autumn following his death we landed at Cork, 
 where, among the many objects of interest this beautiful 
 city affords, that we most cared to see was Father 
 Mathew's grave. In fulfilment of his own wish he was 
 buried beneath the great stone cross he had himself 
 erected, and a very simple inscription marks the exact 
 spot where he lies. There we witnessed a touching 
 tribute to his worth. Several ragged, miserable-looking 
 creatures, the poorest of the poor, were kneeling around 
 his tomb, absorbed in prayer. They resorted to it, we 
 were told, as they would to a church, regarding that 
 grave as sacred ground. 
 
 THE APOSTLE'S GEAVE. 
 
 The autumn wind went howling past. 
 The sere leaf rustled in the blast. 
 The thick chill rain fell pattering slow 
 On the quiet homes of the dead below ; 
 My heart was sad, as I raised my eye 
 To the hurrying clouds of the dull grey sky, 
 And the cypress trees did sadly wave, 
 As I knelt beside the Apostle's grave : 
 
 And thought what a shadow was earthly fame, 
 And what the use of an honoured name — 
 That he who sleeps 'neath that cold wet stone, 
 Had toiled unaided, and struggled alone — 
 Had freed the land from the iron thrall 
 Of the damning arch-fiend, Alcohol ; 
 And all he had gained in the land of his birth, 
 Was that simple cross, and six feet of earth. 
 
FATHER MATHEW. 195 
 
 I looked — and away the dark clouds rolled, 
 And the sun shone out through banks of gold, 
 And the rainbow spanned the sparkling sod, 
 Like the jewelled gate of the house of God. 
 And from the old stone cross I heard 
 The joyous song of that sacred bird, 
 Who reddened his breast 'gainst the bleeding side 
 Of Him who on the cross had died. 
 
 And I knew that beyond that glorious west 
 
 The good will find eternal rest 
 
 In a land of glory far away, 
 
 When earth has lost its last faint ray ; 
 
 Oh, better far a place with God, 
 
 Than the courtier's smile or the despot's nod ; 
 
 Oh, better than titles and sculptured stone 
 
 The endless steps of His mighty throne.* 
 
 These lines were written by John Fitzgerald, an artisan of Cork. 
 
 • N 2 
 
196 
 
 THE VERY REV. DR. SPRATT. 
 
 Amid the gloom which overshadowed the last years of 
 Father Mathew, some gleams of comfort and hope must 
 have reached his generous heart, in the assurance that 
 though his eyes would close ere the cause to which he had 
 sacrificed his life could recover from the shocks that had 
 well nigh converted one of the noblest triumphs this 
 world ever witnessed into hopeless defeat, still fellow- 
 labourers remained behind him in the field, who might 
 even yet prevail in the glorious struggle. 
 
 A short memoir of one who may be regarded as in 
 some measure the successor of Father Mathew, the Yery 
 Rev. Dr. Spratt, will aptly bring down to the present day 
 the history of the Total Abstinence Movement in Ireland. 
 
 John Spratt was born in Dublin, in the memorable 
 year 1798. Such were the disabilities which unjust laws 
 at that period imposed upon Roman Catholics in Ireland, 
 that it was difficult to obtain a liberal education at home, 
 and, consequently, the youth was sent by his parents to 
 the College of Cordova, in Spain. Entering the Carmelite 
 Order of Friars, of which he subsequently was appointed 
 Provincial Superior, he returned to Dublin in 1821, and 
 commenced his ministrations in the Conventual Chapel, 
 French Street, now the Temperance Hall. Warmhearted 
 and energetic, Dr. Spratt possesses talents of a high order, 
 combined with great simplicity of manners and pious zeal. 
 As an instance of the latter, we may mention that it is 
 still his practice, though his age and rank have long since 
 exonerated him from the duty, to perform daily the latest 
 mass, which is celebrated an hour before noon. Thus, as 
 
THE VERY REV. DR. SPRATT. 197 
 
 it is not permitted to the Catholic priest to take food 
 before officiating at the altar, Dr. Spratt habitually fasts 
 until nearly twelve o'clock in the day. In most chapels 
 the junior curate celebrates the last mass, or if his health 
 suffer, all the priests take this duty in turn. The disre- 
 gard of self thus evinced is characteristic of Dr. Spratt, 
 and goes far to account for the popularity he enjoys, and 
 which he uses for the noblest purposes. From the period 
 of his return to Dublin, until the present day, he has 
 laboured unweariedly to promote the welfare, not only of 
 his own flock, but of all whom his benevolent efforts 
 could reach ; and numerous as valuable are the insti- 
 tutions his native city owes to his perseverance and 
 charity. A friend to every branch of social reform, and 
 more especially to education, he had no sooner entered 
 upon his pastoral duties than he became the active patron 
 of St. Peter's Orphan Society, which has maintained and 
 educated hundreds of destitute children. The offspring 
 of parents who had fallen victims to the cholera have been 
 especially selected as objects for their care by this society, 
 and hence the children have long been designated " The 
 Cholera Orphans." In 1823 Dr. Spratt opened free 
 schools for boys and girls, and for years supported them 
 from his own limited means. In 1831, when the national 
 system of education was etablished in Ireland, he placed 
 himself in connection with it, and founded new schools, 
 one of them being Industrial, in White Friars Street, 
 where there are now 1,000 children in daily attendance. 
 In 1834 he was elected one of two honorary secretaries, 
 the Dean of St. Patrick being his colleague, to the 
 Society for the Relief of the Sick and Indigent of all 
 Denominations, for which he has laboured with unwearied 
 zeal and benevolence. 
 
198 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 In 1843 Dr. Spratt, now a fellow-labourer with 
 Father Mathew, opened an asylum for fallen women who 
 had taken the teetotal pledge. When famine was 
 spreading death in its most awful form through the 
 land, we find him exhorting his fellow-countrymen to 
 forbear from the destruction of food for purposes of dis- 
 tillation : — 
 
 " Let us see," he said, " how much distillation decreases the 
 supply of human food. It requires one bushel of grain to make 
 two gallons of spirits. In the year ending 1845, six millions, four 
 hundred and forty-three thousand, eight hundred and forty-four 
 gallons of spirits were charged with duty in Ireland alone, for home 
 consumption. To produce this quantity, three millions, two 
 hundred and thirty-one thousand, nine hundred and twenty-two 
 bushels of grain were consumed. The number of gallons of spirits 
 charged with duty in England and Scotland in the same year, was 
 about twenty millions. These twenty millions of gallons destroyed 
 ten million bushels of that very food which would meet the wants 
 of an immense mass of our famishing population/ 5 
 
 But the Irish people, as we have already seen, sank 
 deeper and deeper into their old vice, and, while famishing 
 for bread, they converted more and more of the grain they 
 yet possessed into the poison which perpetuated their 
 misery. Still, though they had shown themselves deaf to 
 his just appeal, Dr. Spratt did not relax his efforts to 
 afford them succour in their extremity, but organised a 
 society in Dublin for administering relief to his starving 
 countrymen, devising the means by which the funds he 
 obtained from all sects and parties should be most 
 efficiently applied. 
 
 As the promoter of national manufactures, as the 
 founder of the Catholic Young Men's Society, in the aid 
 he lavishly bestowed upon the Asylum for the Industrious 
 Blind, and in the useful books he has produced, we 
 

 THE VERY REV. DRl SPRATT. 199 
 
 recognise, under various forms, the sincerity of his aspi- 
 rations for the public good ; in his labours to promote the 
 cause of temperance they are yet more apparent. 
 
 Having, in 1840, enrolled himself under the banner of 
 Father Mathew, and, faithfully seconding his efforts while 
 he lived, upon the death of his great leader Dr. Spratt suc- 
 ceeded him as the advocate of total abstinence. Since that 
 time he has administered the pledge (chiefly in Dublin) 
 to 250,000 persons, and still adds to their number. It is 
 said that a larger proportion of those who receive the 
 pledge from him are faithful in its observance, than of 
 the recipients of it from Father Mathew ; a fact, if it be 
 one, not difficult to account for, when we remember how 
 vast a number took the pledge from Father Mathew 
 without preparation or reflection, but under the sudden 
 impulse with which his presence and exhortations inspired 
 his hearers, — an explanation we may the more readily 
 accept, as it is also said that those who best kept their 
 promise among his postulants were the confirmed 
 drunkards. The impression his touching appeals made 
 upon tlieir hearts was rarely effaced. 
 
 The national festival of Ireland, St. Patrick's Day, 
 has been proverbially disgraced by riot and drunkenness. 
 To induce a better observance of the holiday, Dr. Spratt, 
 when it is at hand, issues an address, which he causes to 
 be posted upon the walls throughout Dublin, calling upon 
 the people, by every motive of religion and patriotism, to 
 abstain from a course which heaps opprobrium upon their 
 country. This practice, pursued for many years, has 
 met with great success. By similar means he strove to 
 diminish the evils of Donnybrook fair, a scene of misrule 
 now happily abolished by law, but which formerly lasted 
 a week, in the month of August, commencing with what 
 
200 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 was called " Walking Sunday." On this day, as a supple- 
 ment to his printed addresses, Dr. Spratt was accustomed to 
 hold an open-air temperance meeting, when, by his own 
 powerful appeals, and those of other labourers in the 
 oause, among whom none have more zealously supported 
 it than Mr. James Haughton, many a follower was won 
 over from the ranks of drunkenness ; while it was further 
 urged upon those present that each should exert himself 
 to induce a friend to abstain from attending the fair. 
 Early in April, 1848, when the revolutionary spirit, which 
 for months had kept Europe in a ferment, and was be- 
 ginning to raise its head even in England, threatened to 
 arouse discontent among the Irish, Dublin was placarded 
 with Dr. Spratt' s admonitions to peace and temperance. 
 The tranquillity of the city remained unbroken. 
 
 These facts suffice to prove the beneficial influence Dr. 
 Spratt exercises over the humbler classes of his fellow- 
 citizens. His labours are, however, chiefly confined to 
 Dublin. 
 
 We turn now to the provinces, where we will briefly 
 indicate the position total abstinence has occupied since 
 the period of its greatest prosperity. 
 
 In 1842 the annual consumption of spirits in Ireland 
 had sunk from (omitting fractions) 11 to 5 millions of 
 gallons, at which it remained for some years, the popula- 
 tion being 8 millions. In 1853 the consumption had 
 mounted to 8 millions, the population having declined to 
 6 J millions; death from starvation and pestilence, to- 
 gether with emigration, had diminished by more than one- 
 sixth the people of Ireland ! Since that period, the 
 amount of spirits consumed has, with slight fluctuations, 
 continued to decrease, until, in 1858 (the latest returns to 
 which we have access), it exceeded by less than half a 
 million gallons only the quantity drunk in 1842. 
 

 THE VERY REV. DR. SPRATT. 201 
 
 The rapid decrease of crime in Ireland of late years may 
 probably be attributed in part to respect for the memory 
 of Father Mathew, yet showing itself in the diminished 
 use of spirits ; but it must be owned that another most 
 potent cause for so satisfactory a result is found in the ad- 
 mirable system of prison discipline, which, under Captain 
 Croffcon and his fellow- directors of convict prisons, has 
 prevailed in that country since 1853. 
 
 In the south of Ireland, but little effort has been 
 made since Father Mathew's death to advance total 
 abstinence principles ; thus the good they yet effect must 
 be attributed to his influence lingering among the people. 
 In the north, the great work has been carried on by the 
 Presbyterians. Nearly two hundred of their ministers 
 have taken the pledge, and their example, helped by 
 local societies, gives important aid to the cause. 
 
 In Dublin various total abstinence societies exist, and 
 a branch of the United Kingdom Alliance is in active 
 operation; but the potent rivalry of 1,100 public-houses, 
 together with the indifference of the upper classes to this 
 branch of social reform, greatly impedes the progress of 
 temperance in the metropolis. Looking abroad, however, 
 over the country, signs full of hope for the future may be 
 discerned \ and if a conviction of the importance of their 
 enterprise should happily arouse a band of fellow-labourers 
 to join the few who now bear the heat and burden of the 
 day, we may yet behold in the regeneration of Ireland a 
 monument to Father Mathew, worthy of one who must 
 ever rank among her noblest sons. 
 
202 
 
 DR. JOHN THOMSON, F.E.S.L. & E. 
 
 De. Thomson was born at Paisley, on the 15th March, 
 1765. His father was a silk- weaver, and had for some 
 time been rather prosperous in the world, but, by an 
 imprudent confidence in a person with whom he was 
 accustomed to have dealings in business, he became in- 
 volved in debt. His pride not allowing him to extricate 
 himself from his difficulties by declaring himself bank- 
 rupt, he borrowed money from a friend for this purpose. 
 The necessity of regularly paying interest on the sum 
 borrowed, until he was able to discharge it, obliged him 
 to bring up his family with a rigorous attention to 
 economy, and to put his children to work at an early 
 age. After being engaged for about three years in the 
 minor operations of silk-weaving under different masters, 
 Dr. Thomson was, at the age of eleven, bound to his 
 father for a seven years' apprenticeship, and not only 
 served the whole of this period, but continued to work 
 with his father for nearly two years after his apprentice- 
 ship had expired. 
 
 Meanwhile, besides excelling in all manly sports 
 within his reach, Dr. Thomson had sought for know- 
 ledge from every source from which he could obtain 
 it ; — the conversation carried on in the workshops, the 
 newspaper weekly read there, the books in his father's 
 possession, which, however, chiefly related to doctrinal 
 divinity, a circulating library, to which, at a time when 
 a penny a week was his entire free income, that penny 
 was devoted ; and books probably borrowed from some of 
 his associates, or, at a later period, purchased with his 
 
DR. JOHN THOMSON. 203 
 
 His disinclination for a mechanical em- 
 ployment, and ardent desire for a profession that would 
 admit of, or require, his devoting a larger portion of his 
 time to the pursuit of knowledge, must have been known 
 from an early period to his father, who, being a very 
 warm adherent of the Anti- Burgher seceders, would not 
 have been dfsinclined to his son's being educated for a 
 minister of that Church. But as his son declined to 
 accede to that plan, the engaging in the study of medicine 
 had appeared to him too hazardous a scheme to be en- 
 couraged. At length an explanation took place between 
 them which determined Dr. Thomson's future destiny. 
 Some occurrence, possibly an appearance of neglect of 
 his work, gave occasion to his father exclaiming, that he 
 wished from his heart he had been at the learning long 
 before, as he saw he was never to do good at his trade, — 
 adding that it was too late, however, to think of changing, 
 as his want of previous instruction rendered it hopeless 
 to expect that he Should now be able to qualify himself 
 for a learned profession. Upon this, his son, drawing a 
 Latin book from his pocket, and reading a few sentences 
 out of it, to his father's no less delight than surprise, 
 confessed to having, about a twelvemonth before, without 
 his praent's knowledge, placed himself under a master 
 capable of teaching him Latin. On the instant, his father 
 yielded to his wishes, and from that hour, as Dr. Thomson 
 has often been known to mention, with an affectionate 
 tribute to his father's considerateness, though he con- 
 tinued for several years to reside under the parental roof, 
 he " never touched a shuttle."* 
 
 It cannot be denied, that a medical student beginning 
 his education at twenty, without either friends or fortune, 
 * Notice of Dr. Thomson. Edinburgh. : Stark and Company. 1847. 
 
204 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 was in a very disadvantageous position. We hope, never- 
 theless, to prove that he rose to great eminence, and with- 
 out any pecuniary help, except in one single instance. His 
 success was effected by his own personal merits. This is 
 attested by one very competent to give an opinion : — 
 
 ""When I say that Dr. Thomson is the most learned physician 
 I ever met with/' says Dr. Henry Davidson, " I know that I am 
 quite safe from any appearance of exaggeration; because I have 
 heard the same language employed by many medical men in Eng- 
 land, and by all those foreigners with whom he became acquainted 
 during his professional tour on the Continent. It is not only in 
 medicine and its immediate branches that Dr. Thomson has a most 
 remarkable degree of knowledge. No one, I am certain, can have 
 conversed with or consulted him upon the actual state or previous 
 history of chemistry, botany, mathematics, or general philosophy, 
 without being surprised at the extent and accuracy of his infor- 
 mation, which can have been acquired pnly by a devotion of time and 
 attention to laborious study, seldom found and but little expected 
 in an individual engaged, as Dr. Thomson has been, in an anxious 
 and fatiguing profession." 
 
 That he gained this learning by application, and that 
 he did not become idle after his character was established 
 both as a practitioner and as a teacher, the following 
 passage may serve to show : — 
 
 "It is perfectly true that Dr. Thomson's acquirements were 
 the result of much assiduous application superadded to the posses- 
 sion of large natural endowments. Pew men, we believe, ever 
 wasted less time than he did upon frivolous or unimproving occu- 
 pations. Every morning, for a long period of his life, he had 
 lighted his candle, and was busy in the work of self-improvement, 
 during hours which most students think themselves entitled to devote 
 to repose. And when professional avocations used to call him to the 
 country, the quantity of reading he was able to get through upon 
 the road, communicated to those journeys an especial degree of 
 enjoyment. 3 '* 
 * Reading in the carriage was then very unusual among physicians. 
 

 DR. JOHN THOMSON. 205 
 
 He was very successful, both as a general practitioner 
 and afterwards as a family physician, and his practice was 
 only limited by his deficient bodily health ; his little 
 regard for money, after he had secured a competence for 
 his family ; and his high aim of contributing by his efforts 
 to the lasting improvement of medical education.. He 
 would never allow it to be said that he had cured any one r 
 but that the patient had recovered under his care. " It was. 
 with him a fundamental principle to secure, as he was 
 wont to say, 'fair play to Nature.' But the same 
 sagacity which enabled him to detect what was amiss in 
 the patient's economy singularly assisted him in judging 
 how far, in the particular circumstances, Nature might be 
 relied upon; and where such reliance seemed doubtful or 
 hopeless, the remedial measures which he considered 
 appropriate were prosecuted with a vigour that bore no 
 indication of inertness or indecision." Yet on the whole 
 he gave but little medicine, and would jokingly say that 
 there was no great difference between his practice and 
 that of the Homceopathists, for where they would give the 
 thousandth part of a grain he would give nothing at 
 all! 
 
 Dr. Thomson was before his age, when, with his esteemed 
 friend, Dr. A. Combe (without, however, sharing in his 
 belief in phrenology), he advocated a more tender manage- 
 ment of children, which was then called coddling, but 
 which has been found more conducive to infant life than 
 the very early forcible attempts to harden by the use of 
 the coldest water and other bracing and nursery expedients 
 of that time. 
 
 His great natural humanity, and his thorough acquaint- 
 ance with hospitals all over Europe, enabled him to place 
 himself in the van of improvement in regard to them. 
 
206 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 He had interest to introduce into the infirmary of Edin- 
 burgh most of the changes he proposed. 
 
 Dr. Thomson held very liberal views on the education 
 of women, and he bestowed equal care and expense upon 
 the instruction of his daughters as upon that of his sons. 
 Indeed, his eldest daughter, who died at the age of 
 twenty-three, was for several years his companion and 
 assistant in his scientific pursuits. 
 
 The opinions which Dr. Thomson entertained on the 
 diet, dress, and discipline of the army, with which he was 
 much connected, by filling the chair of military surgery, 
 are coincident with those which are now beginning to be 
 received on the subject of their radical reform. Both as a 
 man, and as a physician, he condemned also the severe and 
 degrading punishments to which soldiers were subjected. 
 
 The three professorships which Dr, Thomson was the 
 first to hold, were all, as it were, created by his own 
 exertions. They were the professorships of surgery to the 
 College of Surgeons, military surgery, and of pathology. 
 For the latter he had prepared himself all his life; 
 spending great sums in getting up original paintings of 
 diseases, and doing everything which might enable him to 
 forward the enterprise. 
 
 "As a teacher, he was singularly successful in en- 
 gaging the attention of his audience by the judicious 
 selection of materials which he laid before them, as well 
 as by his power of generalising the results of his observa- 
 tion, reading, and reflection, and of presenting these 
 results in a clear and simple form ; and, above all, perhaps, 
 the interest he himself evinced in the subject under dis- 
 cussion, had a powerful influence in stimulating the en- 
 thusiasm and energy of his pupils. Another striking 
 feature in his character as a teacher was the rapidity 
 

 DR. JOHN THOMSON. 207 
 
 with which he discriminated the several capabilities of his 
 students, and directed their energies into those channels 
 in which they might be most usefully employed. To this 
 early direction of their thoughts and pursuits, many of his 
 more distinguished pupils have been known, in after life, 
 gratefully to ascribe much of their worldly success, and of 
 any scientific reputation which they had acquired. . . 
 
 " At an early period of life, and when in an humble 
 sphere, Dr. Thomson was led to adopt political opinions 
 favourable to popular constitutional rights. These opinions 
 he continued to retain through life ; and not conceiving 
 that any one who lives under and enjoys the benefits of a 
 I free constitution, is entitled to withhold whatever support 
 I it may be in his power to render to free institutions, he 
 never shrank from avowing the opinions which he 
 I entertained, and that at a time when such avowals not 
 only closed the doors of official preferment on those w^ho 
 made them, but caused them to be looked on by the great 
 body of the wealthy with suspicion, distrust, or aversion. 
 He was no admirer, however, of extreme opinions even in 
 favour of popular rights. He was strongly impressed with 
 the persuasion that the gradual amelioration of political 
 institutions is not only safer than that which is effected 
 by sudden convulsions, but affords more security for their 
 permanence, and that the extension of political privilege 
 should go hand in hand with, or rather should follow in 
 the wake of, intellectual cultivation, — a persuasion which 
 heightened all the more the interest he took in every- 
 thing calculated to promote the education of the people." 
 With such political opinons, held at such a period, it is 
 not difficult to suppose that Dr. Thomson s advancement 
 was a continual struggle against Government influence. 
 He belonged to that small band of heroes, as we may call 
 

 208 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 them, who dared to meet to assert liberal principles by 
 celebrating the birthday of C. J. Fox, though they 
 knew that they were thus rendering themselves obnoxious 
 to Government. Their names were at the same time in- 
 scribed in the black books of the Edinburgh police and 
 magistrates. 
 
 Dr. Thomson was also for a short time one of the 
 writers in the Edinburgh Review, and only ceased con- 
 tributing to it because it was not adapted to medical 
 subjects. 
 
 About ten years before his death, his state of 
 health compelled him to give up practice. He spent 
 the remainder of his 1 life in pleasant retirement in 
 the country, preserving to the very last the most lively 
 interest for all that was passing in the scientific and 
 political world. In the full conviction which he enter- 
 tained, for some weeks previously to his decease, that his 
 period of earthly existence was hastening to a close, he 
 contemplated the approach of death with all the dignified 
 calmness which the consciousness of a well-spent life could 
 inspire. He died in his 82nd year, on the 11th of 
 October, 1846. 
 
209 
 
 HARRIET RYAI, 
 
 Harriet Ryan was born in the city of Boston, in the 
 United States of America, in 1830. Her parents seem 
 to have been of the middle class. Mrs. Ryan was well- 
 known for her benevolent exertions among the poor, and 
 she early instilled into the heart of her daughter her 
 own spirit of charity. Harriet cannot remember the 
 time when she was not engaged in assisting her mother, 
 to nurse one or more 'poor invalids, whom this good 
 woman had taken into her house to tend, well knowing 
 that their gratitude could be their only return for all her 
 kindness. Both her parents died while Harriet was very 
 young, leaving her entirely dependent upon her own 
 exertions for her living. She became a hair-dresser, 
 which occupation she has ever since carried on with success. 
 
 The lessons taught by her excellent mother she 
 never forgot ; and, at the age of 20, she resolved that 
 henceforth her leisure, brief though it would be, should 
 be spent in nursing the sick and destitute. She chose 
 for the most part the incurable, who are not admitted 
 into ordinary hospitals. The want of homes where they 
 can be tenderly cared for, is severely felt by these unhappy 
 sufferers ; their relatives being usually too much occupied 
 in providing for their mere subsistence, and the necessary 
 expenses consequent on illness, to be able to give them 
 the attention essential to their comfort. 
 
 An opportunity soon occurred for carrying her benevo- 
 lent design into effect. One day, when purchasing some 
 articles in a grocer's shop, she heard a poor woman lament- 
 ing the condition of a sick neighbour, who had no one to care 
 
 o 
 
210 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 for her. Harriet immediately inquired her address, found 
 that her state had been correctly described, brought her to 
 her own humble lodging, and nursed her through her illness 
 like a daughter. This was the commencement of her 
 pious labours. She soon had two or three such patients 
 under her care, whom she tended in like manner, de- 
 voting herself more particularly to cases of consumption. 
 Time after time, at the end of a long day of toil, has 
 she passed the night in relieving the pain of the sick, 
 and in soothing the last moments of the dying. 
 
 It is Miss Ryan's business to dress ladies' hair at their 
 own houses; and, while thus engaged, she has ample 
 opportunity of interesting her employers in the objects 
 of her benevolence. Her applications are listened to 
 with the respect and admiration due to her character ; 
 and she has received several useful supplies of furniture, 
 bed-linen, and other articles, from these sources. Two 
 invalids, labouring under incurable disease, happened to 
 fall under Miss Ryan's care. Finding herself unable 
 to support them, she applied for help to some of her 
 customers, who gladly undertook to aid in providing 
 nurses ; Miss Ryan herself paying ten dollars a-week 
 towards the cost. The attendants, however, failed in 
 their duty, and the poor patients suffered from their 
 neglect. Harriet then conceived the idea of placing 
 her protegees in one large room, where she could watch 
 over them at night, leaving a substitute in charge during 
 the day. Her friends approving of this plan, she applied 
 to Dr. Gannett' s Society, for leave to occupy an apart- 
 ment, formerly the vestry of his church. Permission was 
 readily granted, and when the society learnt for what 
 purpose the room was to be used, they offered it to her 
 rent-free, a benefaction she gladly accepted. In remem- 
 
HARRIET RYAN". 
 
 211 
 
 brance of this act of kindness, she named her institution 
 " The Channing Home, for Sick and Destitute Women," 
 the church being that in which Dr. Channing had been 
 accustomed to preach. To commence this comparatively 
 costly institution, with scarcely any funds, was considered 
 a very hazardous undertaking. So, perhaps, it might have 
 been in ordinary hands ; but, as one of Miss Ryan's 
 friends said, when answering an objector to the scheme, 
 u Don't discourage her, she has the energy of ten men, 
 and it will succeed." By this energy it was established, 
 and it has succeeded. 
 
 In the course of the two years during which she 
 occupied the vestry, she undertook the care of 52 
 sufferers. Of these, there have been discharged — 
 
 Cured 
 
 8 
 
 Believed 
 
 12 
 
 Not treated [?] 
 
 4 
 
 For bad conduct 
 
 1 
 
 Deserted 
 
 2 
 
 Died 
 
 18 
 
 There were seven in the Home at the time of its 
 removal from Dr. Gannett' s Church, in 1859. 
 
 The large proportion of deaths is owing to many 
 being admitted when in the last stage of consumption. 
 
 Early in the spring of 1859, a fancy fair was held, to 
 raise funds for the institution, which it was determined 
 should be removed to a larger building. The handsome sum 
 of 13,800 dollars (£2,990) was realised, which was invested 
 as a fund for the enlarged Home, and a house in South 
 Audley Street was taken. Here Miss Ryan receives 
 twelve inmates, which number she considers a proper 
 limit for one house ; but she desires to found similar 
 Homes in other parts of the city, and to this object 
 
 o2 
 
' 
 
 212 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 devotes all the time she can spare. She is assisted 
 by her brother and sister, fellow- workers in the same 
 good cause ; her sister undertakes the cooking, while 
 the brother manages the marketing, and fulfils other duties ; 
 Miss Ryan herself is always the night-watcher, when 
 one is needed. These are gratuitous labours on the part 
 of each. The same disinterested spirit is evinced by the 
 physicians who attend the patients, the ministers who 
 visit, and the ladies who read to the poor sufferers. 
 
 A gentleman just returned from America, who has 
 visited the institution, remarked that "it looks like a 
 private house, of cheerful aspect, with a most agreeable 
 hostess ; the only difference from ordinary circumstances 
 being, that the guests are all ill." 
 
 Miss Ryan is a Roman Catholic, but she allows no 
 sectarian influence to intrude itself into her " Home." 
 " There are," she says, " Baptists, one Universalist, Episco- 
 palians, and Catholics here, and all are visited by the 
 pious and benevolent of their own persuasion, without 
 disturbing the general harmony." 
 
 Surely, our readers will not contemplate such a 
 picture of zeal, tenderness, and religious toleration, with- 
 out admitting that we do right in according Harriet 
 Ryan a high place among " Our Exemplars." 
 
213 
 
 CAPTAIN MACONOCHIE, E.K, K.H. 
 
 To Captain Alexander Maconochie is owing, more than 
 to any one other individual living, the rational and humane 
 system of prison discipline, which, though very slowly, 
 yet surely, is extending itself through our land. His 
 theoretic views, and his practical application of them, 
 which have been for twenty years familiar to the student 
 of this important science, have operated as a leaven upon 
 public opinion, while they have been a pole-star to indi- 
 vidual effort. Their ameliorating influence may be traced 
 throughout our criminal legislation. In various parts of 
 the kingdom they may be discovered guiding the ad- 
 ministrators of prison discipline ; while the grand experi- 
 ment in convict management, which Captain Crofton and 
 his colleagues are triumphantly conducting in Ireland, is 
 avowedly based upon the principles Captain Maconochie 
 has set forth ; — so far, we would be understood to mean, 
 as the application is possible in the present state of our 
 criminal law. That must be # amended before the most 
 important features of Captain Maconochie' s system can 
 be adopted — i. e., task, instead of time sentences ; and the 
 option granted to the prisoner of spending (within certain 
 limits) the marks he has earned.* 
 
 It was Archbishop Whately who first enunciated the 
 doctrine that the convict should be detained until, by in- 
 dustry and good conduct, he has earned his right to be free. 
 Somewhat later, but in ignorance that he had been anti- 
 cipated, Captain Maconochie not only promulgated the 
 ae important doctrine, but developed it into a system, 
 and thus rendered it capable of practical application. 
 * The reader will find the system fully explained hereafter. 
 
214 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 The early portion of his biography has been pre- 
 pared, by the kindness of the Captain, expressly for this 
 work ; the remainder has been compiled chiefly from his 
 published writings, and those of eyewitnesses of the 
 operation of his plans for the reformatory treatment of 
 criminals. 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OP CAPTAIN MACONOCHIE. 
 
 " My life has been a long and active, but not very 
 eventful one, and I have thus little striking to say re- 
 garding it ; though it has its lessons too, which it may 
 be useful to point out. I was born on the 1 1th of Feb- 
 ruary, 1787. My father was one of the Commissioners 
 of the Board of Customs for Scotland. My principal 
 guardian, after his death, was a near relative of the same 
 name, a distinguished lawyer, who subsequently became 
 a judge in the Supreme Court of Scotland, under the 
 title of Lord Meadowbank. I was otherwise connected 
 with a legal family, and, being myself at first destined 
 and partly prepared for the law, I was about fifteen 
 before I was enabled, with much difficulty, to break away 
 to sea. I was then placed under the special care of 
 another connection, the Hon. Sir Alexander Inglis 
 Cochrane, whom I accompanied to Ireland and Spain, 
 and finally to the West Indies and America. Now I 
 began to reap the fruits of my excellent early education. 
 It gained me the soubriquet, which I retained while a 
 midshipman, of ' Our Colleges,' and when I got on the 
 Spanish coast enabled me at an early period, before we 
 currently acquired the Spanish language, to interpret in 
 Latin with the monks, — and main bad Latin we severally 
 spoke ! The benefit to me was in keeping up my previous 
 
CAPTAIN MACOXOCHIE. 215 
 
 education, and in the notice it procured me from the 
 superior officers of the fleet. Some of my earliest and 
 most useful subsequent friendships so originated. 
 
 " In the West Indies commenced my chief fighting 
 experience, and here I, for the first and only time in my 
 life, saw, and was even in a sort brought into contact with, 
 Nelson. It was on the occasion of his rapid chase of the 
 French fleet to the West Indies, some months before 
 Trafalgar. He first touched at Antigua, thence passed by 
 some of the other islands to Trinidad, receiving some 
 slight reinforcements, among which was our ship, the 
 Northumberland, 74, and finally hove to off Port 
 d'Espagne, in the Gulf of Paria, when he was waited on 
 by the admiral and captains present, and received the 
 latest information. I was midshipman in the boat with 
 Sir Alexander Cochrane, and was then for about an hour 
 alongside and aboard the Victory. I was standing on 
 her quarter-deck, when Lord Nelson came out of the 
 cabin, with a large glass under his arm, and crossing 
 to where I stood on the lee side, he said to me, 
 * Youngster, give me a shoulder,' and made a motion so 
 to employ me ; but, changing his mind, he turned up the 
 poop ladder, and I never saw him afterwards. He looked 
 heated and impatient, and finding the French fleet had 
 sailed, in about an hour followed, and again made sail for 
 England. We were in hopes that he would have taken us 
 with him, but he did not. He fell, as is known, the 
 following October, in his great battle. 
 
 " Admiral Cochrane engaged in very active service, and 
 
 besides being present at the battle of St. Domingo, I shared 
 
 in the successive sieges and captures of the French, 
 
 Spanish, Danish, and Swedish West India Islands. In 
 
 1 was twice wounded, and three times suffered 
 
216 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 much under yellow and other fevers. At length, my time 
 being served, the admiral appointed me lieutenant on 
 board his son's ship. I had long outgrown my functions 
 as interpreter, but at the earnest exhortations of the 
 admiral, addressed to all of us, I continued my studies, 
 especially in modern languages and mathematics. 
 
 "I had still my Latin Grammar and some few easy 
 books with me, and laboured at parsing, instead of merely 
 divining the meaning of the new words I acquired. It 
 amuses me now when I think of the ambitious nature of 
 some of my dreams at this time. Among others, I con- 
 ceived a plan of a universal grammar, which should 
 classify all languages, and in a manner, idioms, as I 
 successively acquired them by their greater or lesser 
 accordance with Latin. I partly elaborated the idea, but 
 I was too ignorant to bring it into complete shape. 
 
 "In the Mtfialion, which I joined in 1809, I went 
 to Vera Cruz and Porto Bico, and thence we took 
 dollars to Cadiz, now open to us, but besieged by the 
 French, and in want of money. While on active duty 
 here, for some months, I was brought into close contact 
 with a superior class of Spaniards, from which I reaped 
 much benefit in improving myself in the language. 
 
 " Being relieved, we returned to Portsmouth, and 
 ultimately were payed off. I next joined the Grasshopper, 
 an eighteen-gun brig. We were soon detached with 
 
 o o o 
 
 convoy up the Baltic, and in the following December, 
 1810, with nearly the same convoy, we were directed to 
 return home. 
 
 " On the night of the 24th I had the middle watch- 
 blowing very hard and very cold. About three o'clock 
 in the morning I distinguished a line-of-battle ship, in 
 the weather bow, heave across as if sounding. We had 
 
CAPTAIN MACONOCHIE. 217 
 
 been for some time uneasy at her running so far without 
 taking sounding, and to give her room I called out to 
 ease the helm up, to pass under her stern ; and to the 
 mistake I thus made we owed our deliverance from the 
 most imminent danger, for she had at this moment struck 
 the ground on the outside of the Hack sands, where she 
 was ultimately lost, and not a soul saved. Passing under 
 her stern we struck the same sands end on, and with a little 
 dragging dropped into smooth water in seven fathoms, 
 and immediately cast anchor. We did not know where 
 we were, but as officer of the watch, it seemed to me the 
 only proceeding that promised security. The officers and 
 crew all of course hurried on deck, and we waited 
 anxiously for daylight. We then learnt that our men 
 of war and convoy were all wrecked outside the Hack, 
 and that we ourselves were within two miles of the 
 Helder, where the Dutch fleet lay at anchor. A crowd 
 of small vessels speedily surroimded us, to which, re- 
 : nice being out of the question, we surrendered, and 
 endeavoured to engage their aid to rescue the survivors 
 from the wrecks. But this was in vain.* Four line-of- 
 
 * "I have not interrupted the above narrative by reflections 
 suggested by the events ; yet they were very striking, and we felt 
 them deeply. Had I not, by an apparent accident, and, in fact, under 
 the influence of a mistake, altered the ship's course, we should have 
 taken the ground on our broadside ; in five minutes we should have been 
 turned over, and have perished to a man. As it was, at the top of the 
 highest tide known for years at the Helder, and which flooded all its 
 cellars, we barely found water to take us across the outer sandbank and 
 drop us into deep and smooth water. Had we not then immediately 
 anchored, under impulse rather than reasoning, in five minutes more we 
 should have been again ashore, and still wrecked, with probably heavy 
 
 : as it was we only lost one man. In the midst of our danger, an 
 incident almost ludicrous occurred, which I well remember as if yester- 
 
 . A small scamp of a boy rushed up in the confusion to ask what 
 
218 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 battle ships, and almost 200 sail of merchantmen were 
 thus lost, and the coast was for miles strewn with the 
 fragments. We ourselves, thanks to my lucky mistake, 
 were all saved, and landed in the course of Christmas-day. 
 Our reception was inhospitable. The Dutch authorities 
 were afraid to be thought to favour us, and the French 
 were not inclined to interfere. We were sentenced to 
 march up the country with our men. We endeavoured 
 to get the officers, at least, transferred by some sort of 
 conveyance, but in vain, and thus had to travel on foot 
 above 400 miles in the most inclement weather, and 
 suffered very severely. At last we got to Sedan, and 
 were distributed thence according to our rank, the com- 
 missioned officers being sent to Verdun. There I arrived 
 in February in great despair. It was understood that no 
 exchange would be allowed us, and we had nothing to 
 loot; forward to but a protracted and harsh confinement. 
 Almost heart-broken, I was persuaded to think seriously 
 of changing my profession. I became very intimate with 
 a gentleman and his wife, who, having visited France 
 some years before on their wedding trip, had been 
 detained ever since, and, like many others, had given up 
 all idea of being released. He was an accomplished lawyer, 
 and at his instigation I resumed my study of the law, 
 relinquished in early youth. 
 
 we were about, and an old boatswain's mate, named Cossie, called cut 
 with his rough, good-humoured voice, ' Take care of that boy, he is my 
 only hope now,' intimating, even at the time, to the infinite amusement 
 of the rest of the crew, that he was surely not born to be drowned. 
 I have often thought of this since, when I have been most downhearted 
 about the Mark System. It has seemed to me that I was surely thus 
 preserved to devise it, and I have been encouraged to hope from the 
 omen that I should yet live to see it established ; and even now, in 
 extreme old age and in failing health, I yet retain the impression." 
 
CAPTAIN MACONOCHIE. 219 
 
 " Knowing that my good legal connections in Scotland 
 would introduce me to the bar, I pursued my studies 
 most energetically, and, I believe, with some success, for 
 nearly three years, the duration of my captivity. At 
 this period the fall of Buonaparte restored me to my 
 original prospects. I could easily carry my law with me, 
 and return to the admiral, by this time commander-in- 
 chief on the coast of America, which accordingly I did. 
 Up the Potomac we made a sudden attack on Washington, 
 and at New Orleans sustained the defeat which subse- 
 ; quently gave General Jackson his American celebrity. I 
 i here first commanded a brigade of gun-boats, and was then 
 I promoted to be captain of the Trave, and afterwards of 
 < the Calliope, a very clever, handy, ten-gun brig. In her 
 I remained until the peace, when I was sent to the 
 | Havaiinah, and thence to Canada, to order the army home, 
 i now wanted in preparation for Waterloo. 
 
 " At Quebec, the idea first occurred to me of a principle 
 in discipline which I afterwards carried into effect, to a 
 great extent, at Norfolk Island. It was that of mutual 
 responsibility among my men. Peace having just been 
 concluded in America, and preparations for hostilities, 
 consequent upon the escape of Buonaparte from Elba, 
 having commenced in England, desertion from our shipping, 
 of men anxious to hasten to the seat of war, was almost 
 universal. To check it, it became common in our fleet to 
 grant no leave of absence. I had previously given this 
 liberally, and was unwilling to stop it at once. It'occurred 
 to me to grant it on system, requiring those who obtained 
 it to return on board before their companions in the 
 watch or boat to which they belonged could receive the 
 same favour ; and, without saying that no one ever broke 
 this compact, I may assert that such a breach of faith 
 

 220 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 very seldom occurred. Return from leave became the 
 rule, instead of the rare exception. 
 
 "After six weeks' detention at Quebec, the troops 
 were ready to embark, and I was selected to hasten before 
 and announce their approaching arrival. My only orders 
 were to lose no time by the way, and I thus was led to 
 make another experiment, which gave me at the time 
 great anxiety, but proved eventually most successful. We 
 had a fair and even fresh wind all the way home, but one 
 of the thickest and most continuous fogs I almost ever 
 saw. With the fleet behind us we could not afford to be 
 cautious, so I had a bucket of water drawn almost every 
 ten minutes during the voyage, and a thermometer 
 plunged into it, concluding that on approaching an iceberg 
 the temperature would fall. I was a young captain then, 
 and, with my first lieutenant and master, kept on deck 
 day and night, watching the glass incessantly. As it 
 happened, the temperature did not vary materially through- 
 out, bub the freedom with which we were enabled thus to 
 run gave us an extremely short passage, I think nineteen 
 days from land to land, while the fleet behind us was not 
 less than thirty days, to our infinite gratification. 
 
 " At Portsmouth we were finally paid off, and thus 
 I had no share in the Waterloo campaign, either on sea 
 or land. I went to Scotland, and, for six years, led an 
 idle life. Having got my promotion, I thought no more 
 of law, and, after a time, married, bought a small property 
 near Edinburgh, and farmed it. It was not, however, 
 very profitable, and, my family increasing, at the end of 
 seven years, I returned to London. I here met many 
 old friends — among them were Sir John Barrow, Sir 
 John Franklin, Admiral Beaufort, and other originators 
 of the Royal Geographical Society, and, joining them, I was 
 
CAPTAIN MACOXOCHIE. 221 
 
 eventually chosen their secretary. The branch of geography 
 to which my attention was most devoted was what may 
 be called ethical or political geography. It directed my 
 thoughts to the effect of varying circumstances upon the 
 character of those subjected to them, a branch of study 
 which eventually had an important influence on my career. 
 Sir John Franklin, being appointed Governor of Yan Die- 
 men's Land, asked me to accompany him as his secretary ; 
 and, before setting off, a deputation of the Prison Discipline 
 Society requested that I would correspond with them on 
 the management of the prisoners in the colony. I said 
 there was nothing I should like better, but being about 
 to hold office under Government, I must obtain specific 
 permission. This was soon accomplished, but partly from 
 
 purpose being misunderstood, and partly from the 
 offence it unavoidably gave to the previous authorities in 
 the colony, it was the cause of much unhappiness to me, 
 and had an evil effect on my after fortunes. 
 
 " I had not previously studied the subject of punish- 
 ment, nor did I now read much about it. I thought that my 
 observations would be more valuable by not being guided 
 by prior impressions. But I was only a short time in 
 Van Diemen's Land before I acquired the unfavourable 
 opinion of the system of convict management prevailing 
 there, which I still retain. It was one of compulsory 
 labour, mainly in private service, enforced by the masters 
 by severe punishments, and evaded by the prisoner as 
 much as possible. The consequence was, that the first 
 were made tyrannical, and the latter systematically de- 
 ceptive. Thus operating upon each other, both deterio- 
 rated even from day to day. As a reformatory system, 
 or as the basis of a future state of society, nothing could 
 be worse. My first report contained chiefly examples ot 
 
222 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 the mutual injury of master and servant exhibited in the 
 colony under this system of domestic slavery. 
 
 " It gave great offence at the time, but has been adopted 
 since even to the letter by the colonists themselves, when 
 it suited their political feeling to employ the language of 
 complaint instead of justification. To remedy the evil, 
 I proposed what I called first the social, and then the 
 mark-system. Its aim was to make the state of bondage 
 as closely as possible to resemble one of freedom, calling 
 into action the same impulses, but tightening their obliga- 
 tions, and making them all combine to improvement. 
 Its provisions were : — 1st. That offences, whatever their 
 degree, and whether committed at home or in the colonies, 
 should be visited by task instead of time sentences ; or, if 
 the latter form were retained, it should be for a mininum 
 term, before the expiration of which an allotted task 
 should not be considered as performed ; never for a 
 maximum term, authorising discharge before such task is 
 accomplished. 2nd. That the task measured by marks 
 should be indicated by the judge ; such marks to be 
 earned according to fixed rules, during imprisonment. 
 3rd. That prisoners should have no rations or other in- 
 dulgences allowed them as of right, but be permitted to 
 purchase with the marks thus earned whatever, within 
 prescribed limits, they desired. 4th. That by a similar 
 agency, discipline be preserved among prisoners, their 
 offences being all punishable according to their degree, 
 by a fixed and equitable fine ; never, if possible, or very 
 rarely, and only in the most aggravated cases, by corporal 
 punishment. 5th. That in their choice of diet, they 
 should have a large discretion, being permitted to pur- 
 chase (with marks only it will be observed) even fermented 
 liquors, though strongly discouraged from doing so. I 
 
CAPTAIN MACONOCHIE. 223 
 
 . wished thus to strengthen the moral preventive against 
 their use, but to employ no physical restraints, which 
 
 / I conceive to be injurious, when only temporary. 
 
 i 6th. That prisoners, when congregated in numbers, be 
 
 \ required to distribute themselves in small parties, the 
 members of which should be responsible for each other, 
 
 I earning and forfeiting their marks in common. I wished 
 
 I thus to imitate family ties among the convicts, the want of 
 which I observed to be very injurious in Yan Diemen's Land. 
 7th. That they be at liberty to bestow their marks among 
 each other, and thus be familiarised with mutual acts 
 
 ; of kindness, and even important services, as bail-bond, &c* 
 " My great aim was to exdite and multiply virtuous 
 
 I social obligations among them ; and thus only do I stil] 
 
 i think the lawless in habit and temper can be reclaimed. 
 "In due course my report was transmitted to the 
 
 1 Colonial Office. I had divided my remarks and sug- 
 gestions into three packets ; one strictly confined to 
 convicts and their management ; another to the state of 
 crime in the colony ; and the third was miscellaneous. 
 In this I treated of free emigration ; of the prevalence of 
 drunkenness ; of the prospect of representative assemblies 
 being introduced ; of the want of improved educational 
 institutions ; and lastly, of the treatment of the natives 
 requiring much amelioration. These were all im- 
 portant topics j yet for nearly two years they obtained no 
 answer, or even acknowledgment. 
 
 " At length, I received a letter from Sir George Gipps, 
 
 q Governor of New South Wales, informing me that 
 
 directions had arrived from the Government at home, to 
 
 place the command of Norfolk Island at my option, that 
 
 * A more elaborate statement of his system will be found in Captain 
 Maconochie'a ' Thoughts on Convict Management,' published in 1838. 
 

 22 i OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 I might there try my proposed system of prison discipline. 
 I wrote to him that the place selected was an extra- 
 ordinary one for the trial of a new reformatory system, 
 the island being the known receptacle of all the worst, 
 and, according to popnlar opinion, irreclaimable convicts 
 in both colonies. I entertained, however, too mnch con- 
 fidence in my system, and was too eager to try my plan, to 
 raise difficulties ; and I accordingly hastened to Sydney, 
 to make the preliminary arrangements. 
 
 "Sir George Gipps received me very kindly, and 
 entirely concurred in my views of the existing system, 
 even adducing some unfavourable traits from his own ex- 
 perience. Yet I could not disguise from myself that he 
 was not prepared to agree with me on all points. He 
 was a most excellent man, just, equitable, and high- 
 minded, but a thorough soldier. His idols were order and 
 discipline, to attain which his tendency was to severity, and 
 here I early foresaw differences between us which it would 
 be very difficult to reconcile. He 6ver- valued mere autho- 
 rity, and under- valued what I called means of persuasion, 
 on which, moreover, I rested almost my whole system. Thus 
 to many concessions I asked for, as essential to my ex- 
 periment, he was inclined to object as indulgences ; and 
 there was one point on which we openly differed at once. 
 Ship-loads of prisoners were being sent out direct from 
 England expressly for me to deal with; but Sir George would 
 not hear of my subjecting the old island prisoners to the same 
 discipline with these men. In vain I argued that if it 
 were found effectual, they would probably require it the 
 most, and that to coop up 1,500 men on a small island on 
 two systems, one thought more advantageous than the 
 other, would certainly breed jealousy and quarrelling 
 between them, and infallibly injure both. 
 

 CAPTAIN MACONOCHIE. 225 
 
 " I offered even to give up Norfolk Island, and try my ex- 
 periment on a much smaller scale in some retired 
 nook in New South Wales, rather than be under the 
 necessity of keeping up two systems at once. But this 
 proposal was not granted ; and though already foreseeing 
 the rock on which I should thus ultimately split with Sir 
 George, I was forced to acquiesce, and agree to bring my 
 family up from Van Diemen's Land, and proceed to 
 Norfolk Island." 
 
 Norfolk Island, so named by Captain Cook, who 
 visited it in 1774, lies 900 miles east of New Zealand, and 
 far distant from any of the other numerous islands of the 
 South Pacific Ocean. It is about fifteen miles in circum- 
 ference, with so precipitous a coast as to be accessible 
 from the sea only in calm weather, but in climate and 
 every other element of natural beauty it is almost 
 unrivalled. Here Captain Maconochie arrived on the 
 6th of March, 1840. He found the state of things even 
 worse than he had expected. 1,400 men, the very refuse 
 of New Holland and Yan Diemen's Land, who had 
 incurred this further punishment while under sentence 
 there, were huddled together at night in barracks where 
 the arrangements were such as to violate all sense of 
 decency ; while by day they were rigorously coerced, their 
 better feelings outraged, their self-respect destroyed. They 
 were required to salute every private soldier, and even 
 empty sentry boxes. If they met a superior officer they 
 had to uncover their heads in the burning sun, and stand 
 aside — in the ditch it might be — until he had passed, often 
 without taking any notice of them. For the most trifling 
 conventional faults — the omission of a mark of respect, 
 
 p 
 
226 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 the possession of a newspaper, or of some article of cloth- 
 ing not furnished by Government — they were heavily 
 ironed and flogged, until in some instances the lash 
 brought away pieces of flesh ; and then consigned to stone 
 cells, their lacerated bodies being left to Nature to heal. 
 But moral offences of the blackest hue were little regarded, 
 the offenders being even pointed out as objects of curiosity 
 by the officers, who related their deeds as amusing anec- 
 dotes to new-comers. Though they worked in chains, it 
 was considered dangerous for even armed officers to 
 approach within three yards of them ; and when the 
 governor spoke to them they were required to throw 
 aside their tools, while he was additionally protected by a 
 guard of two armed orderlies. They were fed more like 
 hogs than men. Their food consisted, besides sweet 
 potatoes, of maize- meal bread, which was distasteful to 
 all, and especially so to new-comers, in whom it even 
 produced dysentery ; and salt meat of good quality, but 
 rendered so disgusting by the offensive odour of the 
 casks in which it had been packed, that when these 
 were being opened no one could pass the storehouses 
 without holding their breath. As it was considered 
 unsafe to trust the men with knives, they tore their 
 food with their hands and teeth, and they drank out 
 of water buckets. To evade labour they were accus- 
 tomed to inflict the most dreadful injuries upon their 
 bodies, and even to create insanity. So intolerable was 
 life to them, that instances are said to have occurred of 
 their killing their companions out of charity, while it is 
 known that their craving to escape from the island 
 induced them to commit murder, that they might be sent 
 to Sydney for trial, though death would inevitably be 
 their doom. Theft was common among them, and in the 
 

 CAPTAIN MACONOCHIE. 227 
 
 case of assigned servants was often connived at by the 
 masters who benefited by it — themselves Government 
 officials ! The physical health of the convicts was de- 
 plorable. Hundreds were swept into an early grave by 
 the combined effect of improper food, bad lodging, and the 
 most depressing moral influences, while the constitutions 
 of those who survived were more or less injured. A chap- 
 lain had latterly been appointed, but no place of worship 
 existed upon the island ; there were no schools and no 
 books. The effect upon the prisoners was such that 
 a convict said — "Let a man be what he will, when he 
 comes here he is soon as bad as the rest; a man's heart 
 is taken from him, and there is given to him the heart of 
 a beast.' ' The men's countenances revealed the treat- 
 ment they had received. Among the most formidable 
 spectacles Captain Maconochie ever beheld was the sea 
 of faces upturned towards him, when he first addressed 
 these convicts. Marvellous was the effect he wrought 
 upon his hearers ! The countenance of him to whom 
 they listened reflected the noblest attributes of mind 
 and heart with which man was ever endowed by his 
 Creator. None could gaze upon it and doubt the 
 sincerity of the words that fell from his lips. Yet those 
 words were full of lovingkindness towards them — hope- 
 lessly as they had deemed themselves cut off for ever 
 from the sympathy of good men — and recognised even 
 them, the outcasts of the outcast, as of the same human 
 brotherhood with himself. An eye-witness has described 
 the scene. The men had assembled in hardened in- 
 difference. He began j their attention was arrested ; 
 he went on ; their features began to work ; they strug- 
 gled hard, but nature prevailed. The floodgates were 
 opened by the first touch of human sympathy, and tears 
 
 p2 
 

 228 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 streamed down faces whose eyes for years had not been 
 moistened. 
 
 From this moment signs of improvement were dis- 
 cernible. The fearlessness which Captain Maconochie 
 displayed, produced an immediate and most beneficial im- 
 pression. Some small cannon guarded the commandant's 
 house. Within a few days of Captain Maconochie' s 
 arrival, the convicts themselves were employed to dis- 
 mount them ; and, removed to a distance, their only use 
 during his sojourn on the island was to fire an occasional 
 complimentary salvo. 
 
 As civil commandant he was allowed one orderly, but 
 his attendance was dispensed with except upon the 
 Queen's birthday, when a visit of ceremony was to be 
 paid to the military commandant. 
 
 From the first Captain Maconochie went unreservedly 
 among the convicts unarmed, either alone or accompanied 
 only by his wife, whose zeal and self-devotion in the cause 
 with which he is identified are equal to his own ; and 
 soon all the free inhabitants, officers, women and children, 
 alike, traversed the island singly and without fear. Yet 
 the number of soldiers in garrison during his residence did 
 not exceed 160 ; and but five of his inferior officials were 
 free men. From 200 to 300 soldiers, and 20 to 30 free 
 officials have, since his departure, been found necessary. The 
 police and overseers he selected from among the prisoners 
 themselves. The convicts were relieved of their chains, 
 and surveillance over them was diminished; yet offences 
 of violence rapidly decreased, and robbery became rare, 
 although the rigour with which every theft was investi- 
 gated and punished, and so brought to light, gave colour 
 to the report that they increased, instead of greatly de- 
 creased, as the fact was, under Captain Maconochie s 
 
CAPTAIN MACONOCKIE. 229 
 
 administration. Malingering — feigning illness — almost 
 entirely disappeared, and more work was willingly per- 
 formed tlian it had previously been possible to extract by 
 the severest compulsion. 
 
 The means by which Captain Maconochie obtained 
 these results were various, but all had for their object to 
 cultivate the self-respect of the prisoners, and their sense 
 of moral and social obligation. To this end he allotted 
 gardens to individuals or to groups, adding the privilege 
 of rearing pigs and poultry. By thus giving them property 
 he taught them to respect the property of others. He im- 
 proved the prisoners' dwellings so far as his very limited 
 opportunities permitted, diminishing the numbers to be ac- 
 commodated in the barracks by hutting some of the best 
 conducted out in the bush ; he furnished them with knives, 
 forks, pannikins, &c, and allowed his first class men to wear 
 a dress superior to the ordinary convict uniform. Schools, 
 of course, he established, or rather encouraged when sug- 
 gested by the men — a plan he preferred to originating 
 improvements himself; but the apparatus at his command 
 was of the humblest description. There were but few 
 school-books on the island, and none suited to beginners. 
 Some types given to his children as playthings served to 
 print the alphabet, and a few easy sentences. The men, 
 with the marks his system enabled them to earn, paid 
 their teachers — the better educated of their own body. 
 These were aided, however, by members of Captain 
 Maconochie's family ; who also shared the readings aloud, 
 which, with excellent effect, he had introduced among the 
 convicts. He built two churches, distributed books, and 
 gave prizes to the convicts for assiduity ; and by his con- 
 stant presence and counsel directed their thoughts to 
 noble aims. With their marks, also, they were per- 
 

 230 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 mitted to subscribe to a friendly society, originated by 
 themselves to give aid in case of sickness or accident. 
 Impressed with the purifying effect of music, Captain 
 Maconochie brought with him from Sydney a variety of 
 instruments, and a fine band was formed among the 
 convicts. So eager were they to improve, that they 
 would rise at four in the morning to get through their 
 work and obtain leisure to practise. 
 
 The mark system, however, was the basis of his 
 reforms, although he was not permitted to establish it in 
 its integrity. The Home Government long delayed any 
 answer to his application that the marks earned by his 
 prisoners should purchase their freedom, and when at 
 length the decision arrived it was unfavourable. Thus, 
 the only value with which he could invest his marks was 
 the power of procuring such privileges as the nature of im- 
 prisonment rendered possible. Among these was the option 
 of purchasing food, in addition to the bread and water 
 to which Captain Maconochie had reduced the fixed rations. 
 
 That portion of his system which consisted in asso- 
 ciating the men in small groups, under mutual respon- 
 sibility, exercised a potent influence for good upon their 
 conduct. At first they could not admit the justice of the 
 scheme; their objection, however, it is worthy of remark, 
 was not always that they should suffer through the ill- 
 conduct of their fellows, but that their fellows should 
 suffer through theirs. Soon, however, they appreciated 
 the wisdom of a plan copied from Nature's own law, by 
 which none of us can do good or evil without benefiting 
 or injuring our fellow-creatures. 
 
 The Queen's birthday occurred in less than three 
 months after Captain Maconochie reached Norfolk Island. 
 Convinced of the wisdom of cultivating loyalty and the 
 
CAPTAIN MACONOCHIE. 231 
 
 love of home in the class to which his men belonged, and 
 aware that the observance of national festivals tends 
 forcibly to nourish those feelings, he resolved to make 
 this anniversary a happy holiday throughout the island. 
 Fresh food was supplied to the convicts, and after an 
 address which went to their very hearts, the Captain pro- 
 posing "The health of Victoria our Queen, and old 
 England for ever !" with his own hand gave each man a 
 half-tumbler of lemonade, containing a small portion of 
 rum, which was drunk amid shouts of " Long live the 
 Queen !" National sports were engaged in for prizes, the 
 band played national airs, and in the evening was per- 
 formed a drama, "The Exile's Return." During the 
 day, the convicts, 1,800 in number, unwatched, traversed 
 the island in all directions. Two boats lay along the new 
 wharf, and powder for the rockets and for firing the 
 cannon was at hand, without a single soldier to guard it. 
 Notwithstanding these temptations to revolt, which three 
 months before would have been irresistible, not a single 
 breach of discipline occurred ; and at the first sound of 
 the bell at night, the prisoners retired quietly to their 
 sleeping-places ! 
 
 Men out of number afterwards told Captain Maconochie 
 that it was this festival, and his confidence in them which 
 it evinced, that chiefly contributed to win them from evil. 
 Omitting the punch and the dramatic performances, which 
 excited animadversion from those in authority at a dis- 
 tance, he always celebrated the day in the same manner ; 
 and also gave half-holidays on St. George's, St. Patrick's, 
 and St. Andrew's days, and on the anniversaries of 
 Trafalgar and Waterloo. On the latter, to his Waterloo 
 men, of whom there were several, he gave a dinner of 
 fresh meat. 
 

 232 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 So deeply was Captain Maconochie impressed with 
 the injustice and inexpediency of withholding from the 
 colonial prisoners the benefit of the mark system, under 
 which the prisoners from England were placed, that soon 
 after his arrival he determined to extend it to the former 
 body also. Three months later, he received an order from 
 Sir George Gipps to withdraw the privilege from the colo- 
 nial offenders. From that time his power of urging them 
 to well-doing for the most part was restricted to the moral 
 influence he possessed over them. It was a bitter disap- 
 pointment alike to him and the men, but they seemed to 
 feel it even more for him than for themselves. They bore it 
 without a murmur, and resolved they would yet " do the 
 Captain credit." They succeeded, for on Sir George Gipps 
 visiting the island three years subsequently, he asked Cap- 
 tain Maconochie what he had done to make the men look 
 so well, declaring "he had seldom seen a better-looking set ; 
 they were quite equal to new prisoners from England"* 
 
 The prisoners from England meanwhile were proving 
 the excellence of the new plan ; and in his official re- 
 port of this visit, Sir G. Gipps says : " Notwithstanding 
 that my arrival was altogether unexpected, I found good 
 order everywhere to prevail, and the demeanour of the 
 prisoners to be respectful and quiet." 
 
 Before Captain Maeonoehie's time, the corpses of con- 
 victs who died upon the island were treated with less care 
 than even common decency demanded ; trundled along in 
 a cart, they were buried more like dogs than human 
 beings. As M. Demetz had done at Mettray, so Captain 
 Maconochie proved at Norfolk Island the good effect 
 
 * What fearful testimony to the deteriorating effect of colonial 
 penal treatment this remark of Sir George Gipps involves, as well as to 
 the regenerating influence of Captain Maconochie's system I 
 
 I 
 
CAPTAIN MACONOCHIE. 233 
 
 which respect towards their dead companions produces 
 upon even the most degraded survivors. He caused the 
 funerals to be conducted with solemnity. They took 
 place after work-hours, and all the men who wished 
 it were permitted to attend. With their marks the 
 convicts from England purchased a pall ; this they lent 
 to the colonial prisoners, who, by the discontinuation of 
 their marks were unable to make such a purchase, — a 
 circumstance which shows that Captain Maconochie had 
 succeeded in preserving a friendly feeling between the 
 two classes, notwithstanding their unjust inequality of 
 position. 
 
 The coffin-bearers were always volunteers, and only 
 upon one occasion did none come forward. This hap- 
 pened at the funeral of a man whose malicious character 
 had procured him universal dislike. At length, however, 
 one of the best-conducted of the prisoners offered to carry 
 the coffin. Captain Maconochie asked him why he came 
 forward ; his answer illustrated one principle in the 
 mark system. " Sir, we passed through much trouble 
 together." Here is another anecdote of a like kind. 
 When Captain Maconochie left Norfolk Island, two ships 
 were sent, at an interval of three weeks, for him and 
 those of the prisoners who were ready to depart. He 
 was to sail in the first, and as the men believed it would 
 be an advantage to accompany him, they greatly coveted 
 the privilege. He settled the matter by directing that 
 they should leave in the order in which they had come. 
 One man, however, belonging to a party entitled to go 
 with the Captain, was very ill, and known to be dying 
 in the hospital. Dropping some expressions of regret 
 that he should linger behind his companions, they volun- 
 tarily waived their claim, and all remained for the second 
 

 234 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 ship. Before it sailed he died. Their sacrifice was made 
 only to gratify a whim, yet no word of repining passed 
 their lips. It proved not to have been thrown away, 
 for they reached Van Diemen's Land before Captain 
 Maconochie left, and the anecdote procured them situa- 
 tions at once. 
 
 Again. A prisoner of strongly marked character, 
 who kept all his companions in awe of him, and was 
 looked upon by them and every one else as one of the 
 worst conducted men on the island, had a strong 
 passion for gambling. Upon one occasion, when indulging 
 it, he lost not only everything he had in the world, but 
 two shirts which were not his own. Humiliated at 
 becoming a petty thief, he hid himself in the bush. For 
 two days he was missing, and no robbery or other evil 
 deed being heard of, it was inferred he must somehow 
 have met with his death. On the second morning, a 
 heavy rain having fallen all the previous night, he was 
 found so exhausted for want of food, as to be unable to 
 move without help, although he had been surrounded by 
 poultry, and pig-yards, and sheep-stations, whence he 
 could have supplied himself. The overseer asked him how 
 this happened. He answered that under any other com- 
 mandant he would have committed half-a-dozen robberies ; 
 but he had done enough ill in return for Captain Macon- 
 ochie' s kindness, and would rather starve than vex him 
 further. He was then asked why he had not gone to 
 Grey, a friend of his, who had been sent out of his way 
 to a sheep-station by the Captain. To this he replied, 
 " he had not gone for fear of getting Grey into trouble." 
 
 The sense of honour which grew up under Captain 
 Maconochie' s system, showed itself also under another 
 form. He chose the best men for hutting-out, and re- 
 
CAPTAIN MACONOCHIE. 235 
 
 quired them to promise obedience to regulations. It was 
 known if any scheme for violating these were afloat, by 
 the men asking to come into barracks, and so relieving 
 themselves of their responsibilities. The additional vigi- 
 lance thus suggested stopped many an attempt. These con- 
 sisted generally in plots to escape — the strongest tempta- 
 tion to wrong-doing which could assail the daring, reckless 
 class who came to Norfolk Island. During the four years 
 Captain Maconochie was commandant, three parties got 
 away, one of them, however, being accompanied by the 
 soldiers whose duty it was to guard the boat-house ; a 
 fourth reached Philip's Island, but was brought back. 
 
 In June, 1842, intelligence had recently arrived that 
 Government would not allow the convicts to work their 
 way out of confinement ; and that wmether their conduct 
 were good or bad, the periods for which they had been 
 sentenced must be fulfilled. From the first Captain 
 Maconochie had warned them that this might happen, 
 and that it was in his power to give only a nominal value 
 to their marks, to be confirmed or rendered nugatory as 
 higher authorities might decide. Still the decision was 
 felt as a heavy disappointment, and by depriving the men 
 of hope, and giving birth to a report that the former harsh 
 system was to be restored, it rendered many ill-disposed, 
 whose conduct previously had been most satisfactory. 
 While the effect thus produced was yet fresh, twelve 
 prisoners employed upon a brig lying off the island 5 
 tempted by the negligence of their guards, rose against 
 them and the sailors, and almost obtained possession of the 
 ship, but eventually were overpowered. Had they not 
 refrained from murder (one convict even sprang overboard 
 to rescue a soldier from drowning), the result would pro- 
 bably have been different. They did not meet with similar 
 
236 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 forbearance, many of them being killed in the fray. The 
 remainder, after some months' delay, were taken to Sidney 
 for trial, and sentenced to death. But their conduct 
 during this interval, and at their execution, showed that, 
 though tempted astray, the good impressions received 
 under Captain Maconochie's governorship were not wholly 
 effaced. After the first paroxysms of rage and despair 
 they became patient and repentant, and deeply grateful 
 for any mark of kindness. Not seeking to exculpate 
 themselves by falsehood, they admitted the justice of 
 their doom, and submitted to it without a murmur. 
 Their last words were those of affectionate gratitude 
 towards the Captain and his family, and all who had been 
 kind to them. 
 
 Captain Maconochie's system, from the first, lacked the 
 hearty co-operation of both Sir George Gipps and the 
 Home Government, while his reforms created a strong 
 feeling against them in those with whose selfish interests 
 they interfered. Rumours of failure, often wholly with- 
 out foundation, assumed, when carried to a distance, the 
 authority of facts ; and errors which had really occurred, 
 as Captain Maconochie frankly admits, — and that some 
 were made in administering a new system under cir- 
 cumstances so disadvantageous is not wonderful, — when 
 reported by hostile witnesses, acquired an aspect so grave 
 as to alarm the powers at home. The difficulties of 
 investigation at so great a distance were not grappled 
 with. It seemed an easier course to recall Captain 
 Maconochie ; and thus a most important, and, as 
 calm examination has proved, successful experiment was 
 brought to a hasty and premature conclusion. In Feb- 
 ruary, 1844, Captain Maconochie left* Norfolk Island. 
 The prisoners were filled with grief at his departure. 
 
CAPTAIN MACONOCHIE. 237 
 
 A few days afterwards, four of them, picking up an. 
 old black silk neckerchief that had belonged to him, 
 divided it amongst them, using it to cover their prayer- 
 books. 
 
 It was no bed of roses he had occupied there. Dif- 
 ficulties of every kind had surrounded him. The officials, 
 accustomed to exercise the harsh discipline of former 
 times, could not reconcile themselves to his plans. The 
 convict-buildings were totally unsuited to the require- 
 ments of the severe probationary stage, which he was, 
 nevertheless, greatly blamed for not carrying into effect ; 
 but more harassing still was the refusal of Government 
 to confer upon his marks the power of purchasing freedom, 
 in which lay the very mainspring of his' system. Yet, 
 crippled as he was, he obtained results which irrefragably 
 demonstrate the soundness of his theory, and the skilful- 
 ness of his practice. 
 
 It has been asserted that his treatment was so indul- 
 gent as to make his men desirous to get back to Norfolk 
 Island. Yet the re-convictions of men discharged by him 
 were under three per cent. ; while of those discharged in 
 Van Diemen's Land, they amounted to nine per cent. ; 
 and, in England, exceed thirty per cent. 
 
 It has been likewise said, that offences during his rule 
 became rare, because its laxity left them unrecognised. 
 
 On the contrary, every moral offence was vigorously 
 punished, and, by the vigilance of his police, and by his 
 own influence, Captain Maconochie succeeded in obtaining 
 evidence against culprits to an extent unknown before or 
 since his term of office. . 
 
 In one respect, however, his task was easy. He was 
 working with Nature, instead of against her. He con- 
 vinced his men that he had their welfare at heart, and 
 
238 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 thus secured that essential element of success — their co- 
 operation. 
 
 " As pastor of the island, and for two years a magis- 
 trate,' } wrote the Rev. T. B. Naylor, who became chap- 
 lain at Norfolk Island during Captain Maconochie's 
 governorship, and remained after his departure, " I can 
 prove that at no period was there so little crime, or any- 
 thing like the tone of improved feeling which charac- 
 terised the period of his residence there ; and I am willing 
 to stake all my credit upon the assertion, that if he has a 
 fair field and fair play, his cause will be triumphantly 
 established. I never met with a prisoner who does not 
 confirm my conviction of the improving tendencies of the 
 efforts he made." The author of "Settlers and Convicts" 
 (published in " Knight's Weekly Volumes") says — " Cap- 
 tain Maconochie did more for the reformation of these 
 unhappy wretches, and amelioration of their physical cir- 
 cumstances, than the most sanguine practical mind could, 
 beforehand, have ventured even to hope. It is greatly to 
 be regretted that his views were not carried out to their 
 fullest extent, in the most cordial spirit. My knowledge 
 of the convict's character warrants my saying, expressly, 
 that they offer the only approximation that has ever yet 
 been made to a correct penal theory;" 
 
 Want of space alone prevents our citing further tes- 
 timony to his success at Norfolk Island. He found it a 
 hell; he left it a well-ordered community. Not long, 
 alas ! did it remain so. A harsh, military rule, sustained 
 by physical force, replaced his enlightened administration. 
 Constant floggings, imprisonment with chains, gagging 
 by means of wood thrust into the mouth, and other 
 cruel punishments, went far to reduce the men to their 
 former state of ferocious barbarism. Their gardens and 
 

 CAPTAIN MACONOCHIE. 239 
 
 even their kettles were taken from tlieni : the latter de- 
 privation was the proximate cause of a fearful riot, in 
 July, 1846, when three officers lost their lives. Numerous 
 executions followed its suppression — twelve men being 
 hanged in one morning ! At length, the horrors of Nor- 
 folk Island became too great for endurance, and the penal 
 settlement was broken up. 
 
 Captain Maconochie returned in August, 1844, with 
 his family, to England ; and from that time he has never 
 ceased in his labours to promote the amelioration of prison 
 discipline in this country. Earnestly has he sought an 
 opportunity of again carrying his principles into effect, 
 and with this view he accepted, in 1849, the governorship 
 of Birmingham Gaol. A bitter disappointment awaited 
 him. He was permitted to apply the mark system to 
 juvenile offenders only, and even then it was crippled 
 by limitations. Nevertheless, its good effect upon them 
 was obvious. 
 
 When entering upon the governorship of Birmingham 
 Gaol, Captain Maconochie endeavoured to ensure from the 
 Home Secretary a diminution of punishment for his pri- 
 soners, adult and juvenile, dependent upon and in pro- 
 portion to their good conduct. But the only concession 
 to the principles of his system which he could obtain was 
 a promise, that any case recommended by the visiting 
 justices for remission of sentence should be considered. 
 The magistrates failed to recognise the importance of the 
 power thus entrusted to them, and did not, in one single 
 instance, exercise it. 
 
 Complaints of over-leniency were brought against 
 Captain Maconochie, and a dissent from his views of prison 
 discipline, by the visiting justices, led to his dismissal, by 
 a majority of the magistrates, in 1851. They selected to 
 
240 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 succeed him a gentleman whose claim to their favour was 
 his reputation as a strict disciplinarian. Our readers will 
 not have forgotten the atrocities which, under his rule, 
 acquired for Birmingham Gaol a world-wide and most 
 unenviable notoriety. 
 
 At the suggestion of the late Mr. William Chance, one 
 of the minority — all leading men in the town — who had 
 strenuously opposed the dismissal of Captain Maconochie, 
 a purse was presented to him before his departure, as " a 
 testimony of respect for his character, and of sympathy 
 with those benevolent views which had induced him to 
 labour assiduously for the purpose of carrying into effect 
 a reformatory system in the management of prisons." The 
 presentation took place at a public meeting, which was 
 largely attended, the general feeling in Birmingham to- 
 wards Captain Maconochie being in accordance with that 
 of the party among the magistrates to which Mr. Chance 
 belonged. 
 
 Captain Maconochie' s knowledge of the Spanish 
 language, sedulously cultivated in early life, enabled him 
 to confer an important benefit upon the reformatory cause, 
 when, in 1852, he published a translation of a tract 
 describing the prison of Valencia, in Spain, by Colonel 
 Manuel Montesinos. This remarkable man, like his dis- 
 tinguished fellow-labourer, Herr Obermaier, governor of 
 the state-prison at Munich, has been guided in the 
 management of the convicts committed to his charge by 
 the principles laid down by Captain Maconochie. Yet, 
 of the mark system, as of each other's proceedings, 
 Montesinos and Obermaier have probably been in total 
 ignorance. The success obtained, in spite of the most 
 serious obstacles, by the experiments independently con- 
 ducted in the prisons of Munich and Valencia, and upon 
 
CAPTAIN MACONOCHIE. 241 
 
 Norfolk Island, affords proof to demonstration, were 
 it yet wanting, of the soundness of the principles upon 
 which those experiments were based. 
 
 His time, his talents, his m,oney, has Captain Macono- 
 chie devoted to the cause for which he has striven. Not 
 only his own but his wife's fortune has been sacrificed in 
 its behalf; and for the loss of this latter fund he has justly, 
 though hitherto vainly, sought compensation. Shall the 
 nation he has benefited fail to discharge that small por- 
 tion of their debt which money can liquidate ? The 
 evening of his long and honourable life may be, and 
 we trust is, cheered by the conviction that, although unac- 
 knowledged, his efforts have not been fruitless; and by 
 the assurance that the principles he has advocated will 
 sooner or later triumph, since truth must, in the end, 
 prevail. But are we content that this reflection shall be 
 his sole reward for years of toil and suffering, which, 
 bringing only disappointment to him, have teemed with 
 benefits to his country ] 
 

 242 
 
 CATHERINE WILKINSON. 
 
 Catherine Wilkinson, better known as Catherine of 
 Liverpool, was born in Ireland about the year 1786. 
 When she was five years old her mother was left in 
 Liverpool by her husband, with two children to support. 
 Kitty, as she is usually called, fortunately came under 
 the notice of a very charitable lady, who occupied herself 
 in visiting and relieving the poor. The latter provided 
 employment in spinning for the mother, while she took 
 the little girl under her own charge to assist her in her 
 benevolent duties. From this kind lady we may well 
 believe that Kitty imbibed that spirit of true charity for 
 which she is so distinguished ; indeed, she was now re- 
 ceiving the best possible education, and it proved of 
 inestimable benefit to her in after life. At ten years old 
 Kitty, with her brother, was placed at a cotton factory 
 near Lancaster. The manager, Captain Steele, was, fortu- 
 nately for Kitty, a man of true kindness of heart ; he exer- 
 cised great influence over the " hands," especially over the 
 younger ones. Catherine retains a most grateful recollec- 
 tion of his kindness, and to this day considers life in a 
 cotton mill as the happiest in the world. 
 
 Desiring to be near her mother, Catherine left the 
 factory, where she had obtained a good character for 
 conduct and propriety of demeanour, and the reputation 
 withal of being an immense talker. She went into service 
 in Liverpool, and here, for the third time, Catherine found 
 a friend in her employer. Her mistress took great pains 
 in teaching her household duties, and in strengthening the 
 habits of order and diligence which, had been inculcated 
 
CATHERINE WILKINSON. 243 
 
 by her benefactress. Thus happily Catherine grew up to 
 womanhood, under the charge of persons who were con- 
 stantly exhibiting an example of love and charity. The 
 seed sown fell on good ground, and brought forth an 
 hundred fold. Catherine's readiness to oblige, or to 
 render any little service for her mistress or her fellow- 
 servants, won for her the love of all. 
 
 Her mother s health still further declining, both in body 
 and mind, she left service to attend upon her, and opened 
 a little school for their support. The mother, in a fit of 
 insanity, burnt the lesson books, and thus the school was 
 obliged to be abandoned. Catherine next undertook 
 embroidery for shops. She married a very worthy man, 
 with whom she lived happily for several years, until he 
 was lost at sea in 1816, leaving his widow with one child, 
 and the near prospect of another. 
 
 Catherine was now in great destitution, on the point of 
 child-birth, and with no food beyond one penny roll for the 
 whole family. How she and those dependent upon her 
 struggled through the time of her confinement, we are not 
 informed. On her recovery she obtained work at a nail- 
 factory, where, by great diligence, she could make 800 
 nails a-day, and obtain Is. 3d. for her labour. She worked 
 so hard that she blistered her hands, when she applied 
 poultices to them until they were cured, meanwhile selling 
 flowers, which a poor neighbour who dealt in this article 
 gave to her out of her small stock, sometimes adding to 
 her benefaction a substantial meal. Thus she lived, 
 supporting upon these scanty means her sick mother, 
 herself, and her two children — one never free from disease 
 from his birth. Her mother was finally removed to the 
 workhouse, her insanity increasing so much as to imperil 
 the safety both of herself and her daughter, who then re- 
 luctantly resigned her charge. . But many were the little 
 
 Q2 
 
244 OUR EXEMPLARS. ' 
 
 comforts that Catherine continued to supply to her 
 mother from time to time, almost at the cost of the 
 necessaries of life to herself. 
 
 Catherine now lost her invalid son, — a terrible afflic- 
 tion ! Long and tenderly had she nursed him, often 
 spending the night by his bedside, sometimes kneeling 
 for hours together, that he might obtain a little ease by 
 placing his arms round her neck. 
 
 In course of time Catherine left the nail-factory, and 
 maintained herself by mangling and charing ; but hearing 
 that a poor woman had been left a widow with a large 
 family, she lent her the mangle, and confined herself 
 entirely to the charing. 
 
 Catherine married again, her second husband being 
 Thomas Wilkinson, a labouring man, who had been a 
 fellow-apprentice in the cotton-mill. He seems to have 
 profited in like manner from the good influences of that 
 establishment, and to have been worthy of his helpmate, 
 for we find him thus spoken of in a sermon by the Rev. 
 J. H. Thorn, of Liverpool : — 
 
 "Nature had stamped upon him, or it may be, the kindly 
 spirit that so long wrought within him, left upon him the simple 
 expression of goodness and quietness of heart — that expression j 
 which is especially appropriated to those in whom simple goodness 
 is natural, who are without self-consciousness, and have no am- 
 bition. I know of no man in any rank of life who so fully, so 
 literally, and so freely realised one-half of the apostle's delineation 
 of pure and undefiled religion in visiting the widow and the father- 
 less. Of the other half of that description, the c keeping himself < 
 unspotted from the world/ we may not speak of another, for hardly 
 
 do we know of ourselves The brotherly offices of religion this 
 
 poor man manifestly performed. Indeed, the exact words of the 
 apostle do not equal the extent of his deeds ; he did more than visit 
 the fatherless and the widow ; he made for them a home, and shared 
 with them his own. The only limit to his bountiful charity was 
 
CATHERINE WILKINSON. 245 
 
 that which was occasioned by the accommodations of his narrow 
 house. The orphan child, homeless and helpless, he took to his 
 own hearth; charged himself with its maintenance; helped it, when 
 the time came, to some honest employment ; and never lost sight 
 of it till it was able to thrive by its own industry. In this wa} T , in 
 the course of a not lengthened life, as many as forty-five fatherless 
 children have found in him a father, been cherished, clothed, fed, 
 educated, and pushed into the world. Many a sailor lad, on 
 distant seas, has no thought of home but this poor man's house, and j 
 whenever his ship returns to port, brings to the parents who 
 adopted him the offering of his gratitude. In speaking with him } 
 I have sometimes been perplexed, for,. by an instinct of modesty 
 and nobleness, he never spoke of these children as orphans, but 
 always as if they belonged to himself, and were his own children. 
 Kor was this all. When these children grew fit for labour, and 
 equal to their own support, found their dwelling elsewhere, and 
 had their place supplied by other orphans in this good man's 
 house, he kept over them a watchful eye ; and fearful lest they 
 might forfeit their place by any neglect, he, summer and winter, 
 before the earliest call to labour, made daily his morning round, to 
 see that they were roused, and that neither weariness nor over- 
 labour, natural heaviness, or accidental infirmity detained them 
 from their work. In some employments great strictness — a needed 
 severity — is observed in this respect, and an irregularity would incur 
 
 the loss of service I have ascertained that for twenty years, 
 
 in all weathers, at all seasons, in cold and wet, in the darkness of 
 mid winter, as in the softness of the summer's dawn, this man left 
 his own house a full hour before the six o'clock bell, not only 
 to summon the children of his adoption, but to do the same 
 office for many others who, through illness in their family, or 
 weakness and exhaustion in themselves, were dependent on his 
 vigilance. This is true Christian service, and it shows how rich 
 the world is in the opportunities of good ; that everywhere there 
 is room for those fine qualities of patience, and trust, and self- 
 denial, and heroism, which, in a more exalted scene, would draw 
 the admiration of mankind. ' Whosoever shall give to these little 
 ones a cup of water only, verily I say unto you, he shall in nowise 
 lose his reward.' " 
 
246 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 A poor woman, seeking for lodgings in the street in 
 which Catherine lived, could not have found a shelter had 
 not this benevolent woman opened her door to the wanderer, 
 and when, a fortnight afterwards, she fell sick and died, 
 Catherine took charge of her children and brought them 
 up with her own. Kitty was not repelled even when her 
 advances were met with ill-temper or ingratitude. A 
 beggar-woman suffering under severe illness, Catherine 
 relieved her of her infant child, while the eldest was pro- 
 vided for in the poor-house until her recovery. One 
 would have thought that such kindness must have 
 brought forth a corresponding feeling of gratitude, but it 
 was not so. Catherine became the object of bitter com- 
 plaint and reproach. The irritability of disease may 
 furnish some excuse for the impatient sufferer, but the 
 susceptibility which prompts to acts of benevolence is 
 grievously wounded by the return of evil for good ; and 
 hence the merit of perseverance in well-doing amid 
 rebuffs like this— to which, however, every philanthropist 
 worthy of the name endeavours to harden himself, as to 
 events of daily occurrence. 
 
 A widower, Patrick Dunne, with three children, came 
 to live with Catherine, paying her for his board and 
 lodging. The poor man soon fell into bad health, and 
 labouring on with a noble desire to support his children 
 to the last, he was toiling at his occupation the very week 
 in which he died. Catherine tended him on his death- 
 bed, and brought him a clergyman of his own persuasion, 
 quaintly observing, " People always go to heaven fastest 
 on their own road." She promised him to watch over his 
 children, and admirably has she fulfilled the pledge. The 
 eldest boy was apprenticed to a master who, however, soon 
 afterwards failed ; thus he was forced to come back to her, 
 
 © 
 
CATHERINE WILKINSON. 247 
 
 and she furnished him with subsistence for several years, 
 until he was able to support himself at another trade ; 
 the girl she retained until she could place her out in a 
 good service ; the youngest boy she sent to a charity 
 school until he was old enough to go to sea. 
 
 In 1832 the cholera first appeared in England, and 
 created great apprehension amongst all classes. Clean- 
 liness, as a preventive to the disease, was earnestly 
 enjoined by the Faculty. Kitty, fully alive to the 
 miserable accommodation for washing in the houses of 
 the poor, and to the necessity for giving them every facility 
 for purification, in order to preserve them in health, 
 immediately set about devising some means for obtain- 
 ing this object. Her house comprised a kitchen, a small 
 parlour, and two or three little chambers ; and at the 
 back was a small yard. Here she fastened ropes for the 
 purpose of drying the clothes, and allowed her neighbours 
 to make free use of her kitchen and yard for washing. 
 
 Our readers will forgive this detail, when we tell 
 them that we are describing the origin of that system of 
 public wash-houses which, united with baths, have spread 
 through the large towns of our own country, and have 
 been imitated on the Continent. Let our readers of the 
 working class meditate upon this curious and important 
 fact. They will draw from it the conviction that neither 
 poverty, lowliness of social position, want of high educa- 
 tion, or even accumulated burdens, can destroy the power 
 to confer great benefits, if the mind be clear, and the 
 will strong and persistent. 
 
 The obvious advantages to her poor neighbours, re- 
 sulting from Catherine's arrangement, induced a few bene- 
 volent individuals to aid her in extending her operations, 
 by paying her rent for her cellar, to be used exclusively as 
 

 248 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 . 
 
 a wash-house, she taking the charge of it for twelve months 
 without a salary. 
 
 So great was the amount of business done in this 
 humble establishment, that, in th& second year of the 
 cholera, 140 dozen of wearing clothes, 158 sheets, 34 
 beds, 60 quilts, and 100 blankets, passed through it in 
 one week ! 
 
 The cholera afforded many opportunities to Catherine 
 for exerting her benevolence. Far from confining her 
 efforts to the washing establishment, though her duties 
 there must have been very onerous, she employed every 
 moment of her spare time in performing some kind 
 office for her poor neighbours. In this, we imagine, she 
 would be ably assisted by her husband, though, un- 
 fortunately, we have but few particulars of his good 
 deeds. It is, however, related of him, that he walked 
 three miles into the country every evening to obtain 
 milk for porridge, which Catherine made of some oat- 
 meal given to her, for the purpose of supplying food 
 to many who would not otherwise have been able to 
 procure a meal ; at one time she had as many as sixty 
 to provide for in this manner. 
 
 The medical men of Liverpool were overworked, and 
 unable to attend properly to many of the sufferers ; 
 Catherine visited the sick and observed their symptoms, 
 and then conveyed such information to the doctors 
 as enabled them to prescribe the necessary remedies, 
 which she undertook to administer. In this manner, 
 many were supplied with professional aid, who otherwise 
 might have died for the want of it. She emptied one 
 of her rooms, spread bedding on the* floor, and thus 
 furnished a temporary home to those in whose family a 
 death had occurred, in cases where the authorities con- 
 

 CATHERINE WILKINSON. 249 
 
 sidered it desirable that the house should be purified 
 from infection. 
 
 By the loss of parents, many children were left desti- 
 tute, and wandering about the streets. These Catherine 
 collected in her bed-room, probably now the only apart- 
 ment she had left. She was unable to spare time to be 
 with them herself, but a kind-hearted neighbour under- 
 took that office, and kept them amused by singing and 
 telling them stories. Soon, however, their numbers 
 became too large for Kitty's little room, when the 
 managers of a school for older children opened an infant- 
 school for them, and placed the benevolent neighbour 
 at the head of it. 
 
 We may easily suppose that with such large charitable 
 views, Catherine and her husband, who earned merely 
 labourer's wages, must have been greatly straitened in 
 circumstances. Indeed, she eked out her means in every 
 possible way. "To make the most of her house, small 
 as it was," says her biographer in Chambers s Miscellany, 
 " she received lodgers, and to make their evenings pass 
 agreeably, she borrowed books and newspapers, and pro- 
 posed that one should read aloud for the general enter- 
 tainment. She provided a good fire in the winter, well 
 knowing this comfort often tempts even a sober man to 
 an ale-house. She permitted her lodgers to invite their 
 acquaintances, and during the winter of 1835, as many 
 as ten met and subscribed for three different cheap 
 periodicals, and to the Mechanics' Library. A s some of 
 the party were carpenter's apprentices, an older workman 
 gave them instruction in their business before the reading 
 began. One of these young men begged Catherine to 
 speak to four of their fellow- workmen, who • sjDent the 
 money at ale-houses which they earned by working 
 
250 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 over-hours. She did so, telling them if they would come 
 every night to her house, they should have the use of a 
 good fire and a newspaper, and for sixpence a week she 
 would provide a supper." 
 
 She was in the habit of getting Bibles, or parts of 
 them, which were sold for waste paper. "When she 
 brought her parcel of Bibles home, she fastened the 
 leaves, patched up the corners, and then lent them to 
 sailors who were going to sea. It was afterwards ascer- 
 tained that by this act the characters of several were 
 improved. . . . Her economy with regard to both food 
 and clothing is admirable, nothing is wasted." She begged 
 fish bones at houses where she cleaned, and made broth 
 for the sick from them. " From the refuse of fruit she made 
 a pleasant drink for fever patients. Time is also, in her 
 estimation, a thing not to be thrown away, and therefore 
 every moment of her waking existence is devoted to 
 the execution of some useful object. 
 
 " The owner of the house in which Catherine lives is 
 a single lady, and a cripple, with a very small income. 
 Catherine's consideration of these circumstances is beyond 
 all praise. She expresses her unwillingness to apply to her 
 poor landlady even for necessary repairs, and, as far as 
 possible, has made those repairs herself. She buys paint, 
 and paints her rooms with her own hand. She receives 
 payment from her lodgers on Friday, and the sum, though 
 only a few shillings altogether, she lends to some poor 
 women, who purchase certain goods, which they sell in 
 the market on Saturday, and make their returns to her on 
 Saturday night. It does not appear that she has ever 
 thus lost anything, while the gain has been of considerable 
 importance to those who have made it. She has mixed 
 but little with her neighbours, except for such offices of 
 

 CATHERINE WILKINSON. 251 
 
 kindness as she could render them, and most unwillingly 
 asks for any aid for her own personal friends." 
 
 The account of Catherine Wilkinson, from which we 
 have mostly taken our materials, was published in 
 Chambers s Miscellany fourteen or fifteen years ago, and 
 of her doings since then we have not been able to learn 
 much. 
 
 In 1846 Catherine and her husband were appointed 
 by the Corporation of Liverpool to the superintendence of 
 an establishment for Baths and "Washhouses in Frederic 
 Street, the scene of her labours. Thomas Wilkinson, 
 however, did not live more than eight months after the 
 appointment. At his death, the superintendence was 
 undertaken by Catherine and her son, who continued it 
 until 1850 or 1851, when these buildings were pulled 
 down in order to erect a larger and more commodious 
 edifice for the same purpose on the same spot. On 
 the re-opening of the institution, she was appointed to 
 hem and mark the towels, &c, at a salary of twelve 
 shillings a-week. 
 
 A few years ago, a lady, who had long taken great 
 interest in Catherine, presented her with a silver tea-pot, 
 as a testimonial of respect ; and at the same time a sum of 
 money, which had been collected by this lady and her 
 friends, was placed in the hands of trustees for Kitty's 
 use. She has likewise received further pecuniary help by 
 the liberality of two Liverpool merchants ; the infirmities 
 of age having compelled her to relax a little the stubborn- 
 ness of her independence. 
 
 Catherine Wilkinson is not without her faults ; she is 
 hasty in temper, but then her anger is of short duration. 
 She is in general very truthful, but nevertheless 
 stoutly maintains that there are instances when it is right 
 
252 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 to deviate from veracity, such as where a disclosure of 
 facts as they really exist might create a quarrel between 
 husband and wife ; and she has been known to deny to the 
 former the loan of money to his partner. 
 
 From this view we entirely dissent. Whoever 
 violates the truth, breaks an express law of morals, and 
 places himself and the objects of his mistaken kindness at 
 the mercy of accidents, which neither he nor they can 
 foresee. These oftentimes turn his wisdom into folly, pro- 
 ducing greater evils than had been avoided or evaded by 
 his departure from truth. 
 
 Catherine Wilkinson is still among us, honoured and 
 loved by those who know the story of her life. 
 
253 
 
 JOHN SMEATOff. 
 
 John Smeaton, the engineer, was born at Austhorpe, 
 near Leeds, May 28th, 1724. It is reported that, while 
 still wearing petticoats, his only delight was in describing 
 circles, squares, &c. ; and, that when about six years old, 
 he was found, to the terror of his parents, upon the roof 
 of his father's barn, fixing a windmill of his own inven- 
 tion. In his fifteenth year he constructed a machine for 
 rose engine-turning, by which he made several boxes of 
 wood and ivory; soon after, we read of his cutting a 
 perpetual screw in brass, a thing little known at the 
 time. Such were his pursuits from his earliest years, 
 showing the evident bent of his mind. However, his 
 father, who was an attorney, had a great desire that he 
 also should enter the legal profession, but yielded his 
 own inclinations at the earnest entreaties of his son, who 
 eventually chose the occupation of a philosophical instru- 
 ment maker, and took lodgings for that purpose in Great 
 Turnstile, Holborn. 
 
 Invention after invention flowed from his fertile 
 brain; in 1751 he constructed a machine for measuring 
 a ship's way in the ocean; in 1752-3 he conducted a 
 series of experiments upon the natural forces of wind 
 and water, as the motive power in mills and other 
 machines depending on circular motion. The results of 
 these experiments he embodied in an essay, which, in 
 1759, obtained for him the gold medal of the Royal 
 Society, whereof he had been previously elected a member. 
 
 In 1756 Smeaton undertook the rebuilding of the 
 Eddystone Lighthouse, the work which has made his name 
 
254 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 so famous. The Eddystone rock rises in the English 
 Channel, about ten miles from Start Point, in Devon- 
 shire, the nearest land, and is exposed to the full force of 
 the Atlantic swell, which almost constantly rolls over it. 
 Two erections had already stood upon the rock, one of 
 which had been washed away with its architect and 
 keepers in 1703, and the second was burnt in 1755 ; there- 
 fore it was an enterprise of great difficulty which Smeaton 
 was to conduct. He had two fearful dangers to guard 
 against, and numerous obstacles to overcome ; and nobly 
 did he perform his task. 
 
 The lessees of the rock, although their lease was 
 almost expired, and, had they been seeking their own 
 selfish ends, they might have put up an erection which 
 would have lasted only until the termination of their 
 tenancy, resolved to employ the best engineer that 
 could be found ; not so much a person who had been 
 merely bred, or who had rendered himself eminent, in 
 this or that profession, but rather one who, by the gift 
 of genius, had a turn for contrivance in physical sci- 
 ence. They applied to Lord Macclesfield, who at once 
 told them that Smeaton was the man they required, 
 and they commissioned him to undertake the work. 
 The proj)osal was put in such ambiguous terms, that 
 Smeaton did not understand anything more to be implied 
 than permission to send in designs for the edifice, but 
 Wilson, their agent, wrote again, in words which could 
 not be mistaken. 
 
 Having well considered his plans, he lost no time in 
 putting them into execution, and in three years all 
 was accomplished. The number of days in which his 
 men had been able to work at all was 421 ; at first, they 
 could only carry on their labour for an hour or so at low 
 
JOHN SMEATOX. 255 
 
 water ; many days also they were obliged to relinquish 
 their operations, by the rising of a sudden storm, often 
 involving much danger; so that, in fact, the number 
 of hours in which they were really at work was 2,674, 
 or fourteen hours less than sixteen weeks. The build- 
 ing, for twelve feet above the surface of the rock, con- 
 sists of solid masonry, faced with Cornish granite, which 
 Smeaton found by experiment to resist the attacks of 
 marine animals, " and each block is fastened into the one 
 above and below it by stone pins, so to speak, to enable 
 them to withstand the lateral action of the waves,'' which 
 tends to push one tier from off that lying underneath. 
 The structure is 91 feet high, the lantern occupying 20 
 feet of that elevation. About 70 feet from the base is an 
 overhanging cornice, which, suddenly checking the waves 
 in their upward sweep on the smooth surface of the 
 ^edifice, sends them broken into harmless spray, far above 
 'the top of the lantern, and thus preserves the glass from 
 injury. 
 
 Smeaton tells us, in his magnificent folio upon the 
 Eddystone Lighthouse, that the trunk of an oak-tree first 
 gave him the idea of the form best suited to his purpose, 
 which was, to occupy the whole of the rock with the 
 foundation of his edifice, and then quickly to narrow the 
 erection as it rose, for the purpose of offering a diminished, 
 object of attack to the winds and the waves. So excellent 
 has this arrangement been found, that all " ocean lamp- 
 posts " have since been erected in the tree shape. The 
 structure has now stood for a century unharmed, and in 
 consequence of the hardening of the excellent cement by 
 which it is joined together, differs but little, in its pro- 
 bability of duration, from the rock on which it is built. 
 
 For some years after the completion of his great 
 

 256 OUR EXEMPLARS. , 
 
 work, Smeaton seems to have had no engineering employ- 
 ment, and we find him, in 1764, soliciting the office of 
 receiver for the confiscated estate of Derwentwater. He 
 was elected, and retained his office until 1777, in company 
 with a Mr. Watson, who took for his share all the 
 financial business, while Smeaton turned his attention to 
 the mines and mills of the property, which he materially 
 improved. 
 
 Meanwhile, he rendered the navigation of the river 
 Calder much more safe than it had hitherto been ; super- 
 intended the erection of new lighthouses at Spurn Head, 
 the southernmost extremity of Yorkshire; built several 
 bridges ; laid out the line, and spent considerable time in 
 the construction of the canal connecting the Clyde with 
 the Forth ; and when old London Bridge was in danger 
 of falling, he saved it by his simple and prompt measures. 
 The two centre arches having been thrown into one, its 
 piers were much weakened by the pressure of the greater 
 quantity of water flowing through, and threatened daily 
 to give way. Smeaton caused large blocks of stone to 
 be placed against the piers, which, soon becoming coated 
 over, and the interstices filled up with sand and mud, 
 formed an effectual barrier against the force of the water. 
 
 It had been found necessary to construct a harbour of 
 refuge on the south-east coast of England, and, after some 
 deliberation, Ramsgate was fixed upon as the spot, which 
 Smeaton afterwards pronounced to be the best situation 
 that could have been selected in the whole Isle of Thanet. . 
 The works were commenced in 1749, but after some 
 portion of the piers were constructed it was found, greatly 
 to the mortification of the engineers, that the sea silted 
 up the sand into the harbour, rendering it completely 
 useless. In this extremity, the Commissioners applied to 
 
JOHN SMEATON. 257 
 
 Smeaton, but lie being then unable to attend to their 
 request, they waited until he should be at liberty, thus 
 proving to us in what estimation he was held. In 1774 
 Smeaton went to Ramsgate, and, after much thought, 
 decided upon the following plan : — That eight acres of 
 the harbour, at the upper end, should be walled in, with 
 sluices provided at certain intervals, and great gates at the 
 centre. The sluices being raised at low tide, and the gates 
 left open, the water would flow in, and the sluices then 
 being lowered, and the gates closed at high tide, a large 
 body of water would be retained, which, being let out 
 when the tide had subsided, would cause a flow that would 
 overcome all obstacles, and drive the mud bodily into the 
 sea. This plan Smeaton called an artificial scour. 
 In order to prevent the inclosed portions themselves being 
 silted up, they were to be divided into compartments by 
 a wall, at right angles with the first, pierced with sluices, 
 and these portions being alternately kept empty, and the 
 water flushed through the void one at low tide, each 
 would thus be cleansed by its neighbour. This plan was 
 adopted, with a slight modification, and — under the sup- 
 posed authorship of another person, Mr. Preston, the chief 
 mason to the works, though in reality invented by Smeaton 
 — - % Avas completely successful. He also recommended 
 that wood should be used for the floor of the dry dock 
 instead of stone, as in ordinary cases ; because the bottom 
 of the harbour is of chalk, and is therefore liable to cracks 
 and flaws, through which the water rises. This is much 
 more surely repelled by the wooden floor, as, being crossed, 
 barred, braced, and bolted into one solid piece, and planed 
 under, {. e. over-lapped by the dock walls, it could be kept 
 down by the superincumbent weight. The Commissioners 
 at first rejected this latter plan, and two stone floors were 
 
 R 
 

 258 OUH EXEMPLARS. 
 
 constructed one after the other, both being thrown up by 
 the pressure of the water underneath. They then applied 
 again to Smeaton, whom, in 1787, they appointed engi- 
 neer to the harbour, and adopted his suggestion. The 
 two piers now inclose a space large enough, and with 
 sufficient depth of water, to contain full-sized ships, which 
 take refuge there during a storm, and thus escape the 
 imminent danger of being forced upon the terrible 
 Goodwin Sands. 
 
 Smeaton made several improvements in- Newcomen's 
 steam-engine, which effected so great a saving of fuel, 
 that Bolton and Watt excepted his engines in their 
 agreement with manufacturers to receive one- third of the 
 value of the coal saved by the superiority of their 
 apparatus. 
 
 Smeaton was for several years an active member of 
 Parliament, and many useful bills are the result of his 
 exertions. He never supported a measure without 
 making himself thoroughly acquainted with its merits, 
 and from his great knowledge of his subject, and clear 
 mode of expression, his speeches were always heard with 
 attention, and carried conviction to the minds of his 
 auditors. 
 
 His declining health prevented him from embarking 
 in any more great undertakings, except that of publishing 
 his admirable work on the Eddystone Lighthouse, which 
 was to have been followed by a treatise on Mills, but 
 before he could commence the second, he was struck with 
 paralysis, and died on the 28th October, 1792. 
 
 Smeaton was a man of singular energy and per- 
 severance, joined to great industry ; indeed, his daughter 
 speaks of him as " engaging in incessant labour from six 
 years old to sixty ! " His career was marked by an un- 
 
JOHN SMEATON. 259 
 
 deviating modesty and absence of ambition. He declined 
 the solicitations of Catherine, Empress of Russia, to 
 undertake the great national works she contemplated, 
 because he wished to devote himself to the benefit of his 
 own country. His domestic character is thus happily 
 drawn by his daughter : — " He was devoted to his family 
 with an affection so lively, and a manner at once so 
 cheerful and serene, that it is impossible to say whether 
 the charms of conversation, the simplicity of instructions, 
 or the gentleness with which they were conveyed, most 
 endeared his home — a home in which, from infancy, we 
 cannot recollect a trace of dissatisfaction, or a word of 
 asperity to any one ! " 
 
 Such was John Smeaton, a man to whose memory no 
 better monument can be raised than the grateful and 
 loving remembrance of his countrymen. 
 
260 
 
 FREDERIC AUGUSTE DEMETZ. 
 
 In these days of Reformatory and Industrial Schools we 
 are in danger of forgetting that it is not many years 
 since our child-criminals, amounting annually to several 
 thousands, were incarcerated in the common gaols ; and, 
 except in rare instances, abandoned to the society of adult 
 offenders, who, well versed in the science and practice of 
 crime, enlivened their prison hours by giving instruction 
 to their less learned and more youthful companions, so 
 that the boys and girls, who entered the gaol novices in 
 wickedness, were but too likely to leave it accomplished 
 rogues. But, thanks to those benevolent men and women 
 who perceived the evil, discovered its remedy, and — 
 infinitely harder task ! — succeeded in embodying their 
 opinions in the law of the land, our country is 
 gradually relieving itself from the opprobrium of being 
 forced to thrust mere children into prison. 
 
 Twenty- five years ago the treatment of juvenile 
 criminals in France was hardly more rational than 
 in England. By the Code Napoleon all persons under 
 sixteen years of age, who have fallen into crime, may be 
 acquitted, as having acted sans disce?mement, that is, 
 without a knowledge that they were doing wrong ; and 
 may, at the discretion of the judge, be either returned to 
 their parents or sent to prison, not as a punishment, but 
 by way of a refuge, there to remain until they are twenty 
 years of age. Either of these alternatives was fraught 
 with evil. It was felt to be cruel to condemn children to 
 years of gloomy existence in a gaol where, though sepa- 
 rated from hardened offenders, they were deprived of all 
 
FREDERIC AUGUSTE DEMETZ. 261 
 
 the exercises and enjoyments natural to their age ; on 
 the other hand, to return them to their parents was only 
 to send them back to the neglect and ignorance which had 
 caused their misdoing. Still their imprisonment for long 
 terms was so revolting that the majority were returned 
 to their parents, to become hardened in crime, and, in all 
 probability, to finish their career in the galleys or on the 
 scaffold. 
 
 A new era, however, was at hand. At that time 
 Frederic Auguste Demetz presided over one of the 
 criminal courts of Paris. Born in 1796, he was then 
 in the prime of his manhood. He had studied the law as 
 a profession, and had succeeded to the judicial office at 
 the early age of twenty-five. His long experience as a 
 judge gave him a deep insight into the causes of juvenile 
 crime, and the helpless misery of the child-criminals per- 
 petually brought before him, sometimes so diminutive 
 that he was unable to see their heads over the intervening 
 desk. The consequences of either alternative — imprison- 
 ment or discharge — were too painful for contemplation, 
 and conceiving a project by which these poor little crea- 
 tures might be rescued from their present and future 
 suffering, he resigned his office, and consecrated his life to 
 the organisation and perfection of his philanthropic scheme. 
 Associating himself with other benevolent men, it was 
 determined to form a society with the object of taking 
 criminal lads from the prisons of France, and by training 
 and education of fitting them for gaining an honest liveli- 
 hood when their term of detention should have expired. 
 M. Demetz was commissioned by these gentlemen to visit 
 such reformatories as might be found already in existence, 
 for the purpose of satisfying himself and his associates as 
 to the best method of conducting the institution they 
 
262 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 were about to establish. Passing through Holland and 
 Belgium, where he discovered nothing which he thought' 
 worthy of imitation, M. Demetz reached the village of 
 Horn, near Hamburgh, and there inspected the Rauhe- 
 Haus, founded some few years before by Henri Wichern, 
 an institution which has since acquired a world-wide 
 reputation. Here M. Demetz met with what he felt to 
 be the true reformatory element, now well-known as the 
 " family system." It consists in restoring, as far as 
 artificial means will permit, the feeling of home to the 
 poor child, who, for lack of its beneficent influences, has 
 gone astray. M. Demetz, convinced that he need examine 
 no further, returned to France, and there met with an old 
 school- fellow, the Yicomte Bretignieres de Courteilles, who 
 entered with generous ardour into his plans, offering a 
 part of his estate at Mettray, near Tours, as a site on 
 which to commence their undertaking. The association, 
 bearing the name of the Societe Paternelle, issued its pro- 
 spectus in July, 1839, and 500 subscribers joined it during 
 the first year ; among them were King Louis Philippe and 
 the members of his family. The Government willingly 
 consigned their young offenders to the care of the Societe, 
 or rather to that of the founders of Mettray, the .other 
 members having taken no active part in the formation or 
 management of the institution. The French Government 
 has always been willing to enlist voluntary aid in the 
 treatment of criminals. 
 
 MM. De Courteilles and Demetz considered that 
 active labour in the open air was the best occupation for 
 the lads, and therefore made their institution a colonie 
 agricole, or as we should call it, a farm-school ; the pupils 
 are denominated colons [i. e. colonists], and the promoters 
 assumed the title of directors of the colonie. They were well 
 
FREDERIC AUGUSTE DEMETZ. 263 
 
 aware that the persons to whom they must intrust the 
 superintendence of their wards would require a peculiar 
 training. They therefore began their operations by 
 establishing a school for the education of their officers, or 
 agens, as they are called. It was opened in July, 1839, 
 and has remained ever since one of the principal features 
 of the institution, and one chief element in its marvellous 
 success. 
 
 Whilst the officers were training, some dwellings for 
 the lads were prepared — small houses, each consisting of 
 two rooms, and affording under one roof working, eating, 
 and sleeping accommodation for a family of forty boys 
 and their superintending officers, two in number, assisted 
 by a couple of colons chosen by their fellows, and called 
 elder brothers. 
 
 In January, 1840, the directors brought their first 
 detachment of colons to Mettray • it consisted of twelve 
 lads selected for their good conduct from Fontevrault, 
 one of the largest prisons in France. The founders were 
 careful to begin with a few, outnumbered at first by the 
 officers, — for they were thoroughly convinced of the vital 
 importance of creating a preponderating influence on the 
 side of virtue, which it was possible to accomplish in the 
 case of a few, and which, when once established, would 
 serve as a leaven gradually to permeate the whole body. 
 The number of colons at Mettray has been by degrees 
 increased until it now exceeds 700, contained in ten 
 dwellings, and several outlying farms. 
 
 On the 1st January, 1857, 1,220 colons* had passed 
 
 through the institution, of whom more than 90 per cent. 
 
 have become respectable members of society. A. large 
 
 number of the lads are employed in agricultural pursuits ; 
 
 * The number given in the latest report of the colon ie. 
 
264 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 several trades and handicrafts occupy the remainder. 
 Among others a considerable manufacture of farming 
 implements is carried on, some of which have gained 
 prizes from different agricultural societies in France. 
 The Government for many years made liberal grants of 
 money for the support of Mettray, but latterly, we believe, 
 its assistance has been confined to the daily allowance 
 each colon would cost if in a prison, which cannot suffice 
 for the more expensive machinery of a reformatory. 
 The departmental councils give aid ; beyond this and the 
 produce of the labour performed in the colonie, the 
 institution depends on voluntary contributions. 
 
 In a short memoir such as ours, it would be im- 
 possible to enter into the details of the plan devised and 
 executed by the founders of Mettray. We must content 
 ourselves with stating that the secular part of their 
 system consists in strict discipline and hard work, 
 combined with gentleness of manner towards their wards. 
 They gain the love of the colons by appealing to the 
 germ of good which is to be found in all of us, however 
 low we may have sunk. The directors believe it 
 essential that the colons should have the power to be of 
 use to their fellow- creatures. They are therefore, among 
 other things, instructed in the art of swimming, 
 that, should an opportunity arise, they may give 
 aid to drowning persons. A fire brigade has also been 
 established, which has done good service in extinguishing 
 fires occurring in the neighbourhood of Mettray. The 
 need of strong religious impressions in carrying on the 
 work of reformation was too deeply felt by M. 
 Demetz and the Vicomte Bretignieres de Courteilles, 
 both devout Roman Catholics, to permit them to suffer 
 the colons to neglect the worship of God. But after 
 
THE VICOMTE BRETIGNIERES DE COURTEILLES. 265 
 
 attendance at church they are exercised in the art of 
 swimming, and in the functions of the fire brigade, on 
 Sundays, such employment not being in conflict with the 
 usages of France ; while, in the opinion of the founders of 
 Mettray, their wards cannot be better employed than 
 in qualifying themselves to serve their fellow-creatures. 
 
 In 185 2 M. Demetz sustained a severe loss in the 
 death of M. De Courteilles, who died suddenly. " He 
 was attending the sick - bed of a youth who had, to 
 all appearance, become thoroughly hardened, when 
 the latter, for the first time since his admission into the 
 colonie, exhibited some sign of contrition. The joy which 
 M. De Courteilles experienced on the occasion reminded 
 him of an extract from a sermon of the Abbe Lacordaire, 
 which he had inserted in his work on prisons .... He 
 went for the volume, and was reading the passage to the 
 friends that were around him, when the book dropped 
 from his hand — he was dead."* " Thus," says M. Demetz, 
 " the colonie lost its firmest stay, and I the tenderest and 
 most faithful friend, the companion of my early years, 
 the adopted brother given me by God." 
 
 Bitter was the grief of the whole colonie at the loss of 
 their benefactor. Letters of sympathy poured in upon 
 the surviving director, many from former colons, who 
 looked back upon their sojourn at Mettray with the most 
 grateful remembrance. In accordance with his wishes, 
 M. De Courteilles was buried in the cemetery belonging 
 to the colonie, among the youths who had died during 
 their detention. The following inscription, an extract 
 from his will, is engraved on his tomb : — " J'ai voulu 
 vivre, mourir, et ressusciter avec eux." [I have desired 
 to live, to die, and to rise again with them.] 
 
 * ' Mettray,' a Lecture, by Robert Hall, M.A. London, 1854. 
 
266 
 
 OUR EXEMPL/VRS. 
 
 Henceforward M. Demetz was obliged to continue his 
 arduous undertaking alone, a task he has most successfully 
 fulfilled. But he is an extraordinary man ; he possesses 
 two powers, " rare in their separate excellence, wonderful 
 in their combination," — the theoretic power to conceive 
 a system, grand in outline, perfect in minutiae ; and the 
 executive power to administer its smallest details. His 
 devotion to his work is complete. 
 
 His power of enduring fatigue has been enormous. He 
 once travelled from Naples to Paris, a journey of seventeen 
 days and seventeen nights, without stopping. At another 
 time, when in England, he heard that the lakes of Killarney 
 were well worth visiting, and he determined, though he had 
 only eleven days for his journey, not only to see them, but to 
 make the tour of Ireland, and return to Paris within the 
 time. He set out, crossed to Dublin, saw Cork, Killarney, 
 Belfast, returned to Dublin, sailed for England, travelled 
 to Brighton, crossed to Dieppe, and though on arriving 
 there he found the diligence full, and was thereby obliged 
 to travel part of the way on post horses, he reached Paris 
 Vy the time prescribed, not having been once in bed during 
 the whole of the eleven days. 
 
 A near relation of his once accompanied M. Demetz 
 through Brittany ; and the plan of their journey was so 
 contrived that they were to see the objects of their tour 
 by day, and to travel over the parts barren of interest by 
 night. " But," said the relation, who himself told us the 
 story, " at the ninth night I was obliged to cry ' Halt ! ' 
 though," he continued, "I was a young man, and had 
 never had a day's illness in my life." 
 
 M. Demetz has been in the habit of commencing his 
 work by four o'clock in the morning, writing for an hour 
 in bed. At five he got up and began the active work of 
 
FREDERIC AUGUSTE DEMETZ. 267 
 
 the day. This wonderful power of labour has been one 
 grand source of his success ; another was his devoted- 
 ness. The first created what we may term the financial 
 prosperity of Mettray, the second has infused into it 
 the Christian spirit of love, which pervades the whole 
 institution. 
 
 M. Demetz is about the middle height, and of dark 
 complexion. His appearance is not striking ; but no one 
 can converse with him and fail to discover his genius, his 
 benevolent heart, and his profoundly philosophical mind. 
 He is a man who inspires the warmest affection, no less 
 than the highest respect. Combined with his great 
 qualities of head and heart, he has a lively and playful 
 disposition, and a thorough appreciation of wit and 
 humour ; indeed, of the latter, he himself possesses no 
 mean amount. The refined courtesy of his manners is 
 most engaging — the charm attached to the old French 
 noblesse, of which he is a member. His family, officers, 
 and colons, all regard him as a beloved parent. 
 
 M, Demetz had ever taken a deep interest in the 
 reformatory movement in this country, and had offered to 
 repair to England whenever his presence would be of 
 service in urging it forward. In the autumn of 185-5 an 
 opportunity presented itself in a public dinner at Birming- 
 ham, in aid of the Warwickshire Reformatory. On that 
 occasion it was believed that he might with propriety be 
 solicited to come among us. He very cordially acceded 
 to the wishes of his English friends, and, during the brief 
 stay which alone he could make, he carefully inspected 
 several charitable and reformatory institutions. The 
 favour thus conferred upon us was appreciated as it 
 deserved. It was said of this visit : — 
 
 a The respect and admiration with which M. Demetz lias been 
 
268 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 everywhere received in England, evince the high estimate we 
 entertain of his talents and his virtues. People of all parties, all 
 sects, meet to do him honour ; showing that from however many 
 different points, political or religious, we view him, however far 
 asunder we are from each other, we can unite to honour the man 
 who has been, and is, our beacon light in the voyage on which we 
 are now, we trust, fairly embarked. Many will agree with us in 
 thinking M. Demetz one of the greatest glories of which Prance 
 can boast ; and that we English, proud of our nation, our govern- 
 ment, our laws, our institutions, and apt to think them far superior 
 to those of any other country,— that we can pay him so universal 
 an homage proves that we entertain towards his country a real 
 entente cordiale, more solid, more binding, than even our happy 
 political alliance can make it. England acknowledges that she is 
 surpassed by France ! Prance has thus achieved a conquest of 
 infinitely greater advantage to herself than that effected by her 
 Norman princes, — a conquest which, instead of making us her 
 enemy, will only cement us more firmly to herself. And England 
 in this avowal, and in the benefits she will derive from adopting so 
 much that is great and good in Prance, has gained for herself a 
 victory to which those of Crecy, Poictiers, and Agincourt were but 
 barren triumphs." 
 
 In the same year M. Demetz added an entirely new 
 department to his institution, that of the Correction Pater- 
 nelle, for the reception of youths belonging to the higher 
 ranks of society, whose ungovernable or otherwise vicious 
 dispositions require a more severe treatment than* can be 
 administered either at home or in ordinary schools. The 
 French law empowers a parent, with the sanction of a 
 magistrate, to place any of his children under sixteen 
 years of age in confinement for one month ; between that 
 age and twenty- one — when the power ceases — he may ex- 
 tend the term of detention to six months. By the provisions 
 of this law, such youths as we have described can be sent to 
 Mettray, there to undergo a reformatory discipline, of course, 
 quite separate and entirely different from that employed for 
 
FREDERIC AUGUSTE DEMETZ. 269 
 
 the colons. M. Demetz, a man not likely to be mistaken, 
 considers the Correction Patemelle an institution much 
 needed in France. Its success has quite fulfilled his anti- 
 cipations, and through its means he has been able to restore 
 many a youth to his family, who, but for the discipline at 
 Mettray, would have plunged himself and his friends into 
 disgrace. 
 
 Since 1855 M. Demetz has twice visited this country. 
 "While he was here in June, 1856, there occurred those 
 memorable floods in France, when large tracts of land were 
 laid under water, the country devastated, and the inha- 
 bitants of many districts involved in ruin. The city of 
 Tours, situated on a peninsula, formed by the rivers 
 Loire and Cher, and a canal which unites them just above 
 the town, was threatened with submersion. The inhabit- 
 ants, incredulous at first of danger, were panic-struck 
 when it became imminent. Large crowds assembled in 
 the great square paralysed by fear, and thus incapacitated 
 from adopting the only measure by which they could hope 
 to prevent their city from being overwhelmed. Suddenly 
 sounds of music were heard, and a column of Mettray lads, 
 three hundred strong, their band playing, were seen ap- 
 proaching the city, their pickaxes on their shoulders. They 
 were volunteers, under the command of their officers, 
 coming to render assistance in keeping out the impending 
 flood. This sight revived the courage of the inhabitants, 
 who, ashamed of their pusillanimity, now demanded to be 
 set to work. The Mettray lads were soon employed on a 
 dyke, which it was hoped would retain the waters of the 
 canal within bounds, and there the colons laboured in- 
 fantry for two days and a night, at the imminent peril 
 of their lives, and by their zeal and devotion lent vital 
 aid in preventing the complete inundation of the city. 
 
270 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 The Municipal Council of Tours testified their high appre- 
 ciation of the services rendered, by commanding a medal 
 of gold to be struck, bearing this inscription, " La VUle 
 de Tours a la Colonie de Mettray reconnaissante" [The 
 city of Tours to the Colony of Mettray, grateful.] 
 
 The last visit of M. Demetz to this country in 1857 
 was very short. He had been here only six days when 
 he was summoned home by the death of a near relative. 
 Notwithstanding, however, that his sojourn was so brief, 
 he inspected reformatories near Bristol, Warwick, Leeds, 
 and Ashby-de-la-Zouch, besides conferring with friends 
 residing in or near London. 
 
 Shortly prior to this visit, a French gentleman, who 
 annually bestows large sums in charity, asked the 
 permission of M. Demetz to lay before him a scheme for 
 profitably employing the pauper children of France. He 
 consented, a meeting was arranged, and three hours were 
 spent in discussing the gentleman's plan. On rising to 
 take leave, he said to M. Demetz, "When a man consults 
 his physician, he presents him with a fee ; when he con- 
 sults his lawyer, he gives him a fee. The time which you 
 have bestowed on me is costly to Mettray, therefore you 
 must allow me to offer you a fee," and, putting a packet 
 into his hand, he left the room. On opening the envelope, 
 M. Demetz found notes for 5,000 francs [£200]. Soon 
 afterwards the same gentleman arrived at Mettray, and 
 spent some days with its director, thoroughly investi- 
 gating the state of the colonie. At his departure, he said 
 to M. Demetz, 4( I gave you a fee for the theory of your 
 institution ; you have now shown me its practice ; permit 
 me, then, to offer you another. The difference in the 
 amount will indicate my appreciation of practice above 
 theory," at the same time placing in his hands a packet 
 
PAUL LOUIS VERDIER. 27 1 
 
 containing 10,000 francs [£400]. With the money thus 
 received the director has raised a new building for the 
 Ecole Preparatoire (completing the original design 
 of the colonic, which, for lack of funds, had remained 
 unfinished). It affords increased accommodation to this 
 branch of the institution, and enables M. Demetz to train 
 not only the agens, but the industrial teachers [cultivators 
 and artisans], these having been heretofore selected as 
 best they could be from strangers to the institution. In 
 the same year a large portion of the land farmed by the 
 young colons, up to that period only rented by the insti- 
 tution, was bought by the Societe Patemelle, the purchase- 
 money being raised by shares. Several were taken up by 
 his English friends — a source of much gratification to M. 
 Demetz ; indeed, so eagerly were they sought, both in this 
 country and in France, that, to admit all the applicants, 
 some of the shareholders were obliged to take a smaller 
 number than they had applied for. 
 
 Among the many benevolent associations in France, 
 none stand higher than the Societes de Patronage, or 
 bodies of men and women who undertake to patronise 
 (befriend) discharged prisoners. As each lad leaves 
 Mettray, one of these benevolent persons becomes his 
 patron. The gentleman who for eighteen years dis- 
 charged this office towards the Mettray lads, whose 
 occupation brought them to Paris, was Paul Louis 
 Yerdier. In 1839, when the institution was founded, he 
 was a young lawyer practising in one of the Courts of 
 Paris, and though possessed of but small private means, 
 he relinquished all hope of professional success, and passed 
 the remainder of his life in rendering his best assistance 
 to MM. De Com*teilles and Demetz in their arduous 
 undertaking. His cheerful disposition and earnest devo- 
 
27.2 OUK EXEMPLARS. 
 
 tion, daunted neither by difficulty nor disappointment, 
 peculiarly fitted him for his onerous task. His labours, 
 however, were not confined to watching over the colons ; 
 we believe he conducted all the business of the institution 
 which had to be transacted in the metropolis. Day after 
 day he laboured in his self-imposed vocation, returning 
 home at nighfc exhausted with fatigue, but quite happy if 
 he had succeeded in achieving his object, and ready to 
 begin again next morning with renewed vigour. M. 
 Verdier. at the request of the King of Portugal, organised 
 in that country an institution similar to the colonie at 
 Mettray. In May, 1858, his benevolent labours were 
 closed by death ; a brain fever carried him off, after a 
 brief illness, at the age of fifty- two. 
 
 The loss of his devoted fellow-labourer was a severe 
 blow to M. Demetz. It was, however, some consolation 
 to him that he was able to watch the sick-bed of his 
 dying colleague. 
 
 M. Yerdier was followed to the grave by many friends, 
 several of the officers from Mettray, and by all the former 
 colons then in Paris. It is the custom at French funerals 
 for a friend of the deceased to pronounce an oration at 
 the grave. At M. Verdier s funeral the eloge was 
 spoken by M. Demetz, and none who know him will 
 doubt its eloquence, When he returned to Mettray, 
 the colons asked that they might be allowed to 
 place a monument in the cemetery to the memory of the 
 lamented Verdier — doubtless a humble memorial, as its 
 cost was to be defrayed out of the slender pittance they 
 are permitted to call their own. Such a request could 
 not be refused. Since that time we believe it has been 
 determined to set apart a room in a new building for the 
 sleeping accommodation of the parents or friends of the 
 
FREDERIC AUGUSTE DEMETZ. 273 
 
 colons, who may come to visit the institution. It will 
 bear the inscription " Charribre Verdier." 
 
 Numerous are the incidents and anecdotes we might 
 relate illustrating the success of the colonic, and the love 
 its members bear to the directors ; we have, however, 
 space but for one or two. The salaries of the agens are 
 small, and therefore they do not generally retain their 
 offices for more than a few years. The enlightened and 
 sedulous training of head and heart which they have 
 received enables them without difficulty to obtain eligible 
 and remunerative employment. Two among the first 
 pupils of the Ecole Preparatoire, however, have remained 
 at Mettray, and are now, under the director, its principal 
 officers, — Theodore Mahoudeau and Louis Blanchard, — 
 the latter affectionately described by M. Demetz as his 
 "right arm," his "other self." 
 
 One of the agens, who had been offered a very good 
 appointment, and who had, as it appeared, been persuaded 
 to accept it, came to a sudden halt as he was on his way, 
 accompanied by the director, to be introduced to his new 
 employer, and exclaiming, " No, I cannot, and will not, 
 leave Mettray," returned to the scene of his labours and 
 sacrifices. 
 
 Consequent upon the revolution of 1848, when the 
 Government not only withdrew its support, but also pro- 
 hibited all sale of the produce of the colonie, thus imposing 
 upon it an annual loss of a thousand j>ounds, the closing of 
 the institution seemed inevitable. The officers, resolving to 
 do what in them lay to avert so great a calamity, came in a 
 body to the directors, and offered to remain at their posts 
 on half pay ! 
 
 A large proportion of the colons go into the army. 
 M. Demetz being present on some occasion when a troop 
 
274 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 of soldiers were drawn up in line, one of them stepped 
 from the ranks and flung his arms round his neck. The 
 man had been a colon at Mettray, and, unmindful of 
 spectators, thus gave way to the impulse of gratitude and 
 affection. 
 
 The title of fondateur is given to any person who 
 contributes a hundred francs to the institution. Former 
 colons have become fondateurs ; one who had emigrated 
 to Lima, in South America, sent home, as soon as he 
 could spare the money, two purses, each containing a 
 hundred francs*, labelled, "A mes deux Meres." [For 
 my two mothers.] One for his real mother, the other 
 for Mettray. Three years afterwards he sent to the colonie 
 a second donation of one hundred francs, accompanied by a 
 hope that he should soon be able to return to his native 
 country, placing among the chief of his anticipated plea- 
 sures, that of revisiting Mettray. 
 
 M. Demetz went, on one occasion, to a town at some 
 distance from Mettray, for the purpose of bringing a fresh 
 party of colons. The lads are always dressed in the uni- 
 form worn at the colonie before departing for Mettray. 
 As their size is of course unknown, alterations are often 
 required to be made in the clothes before they can be 
 worn, and for this purpose a tailor in the neighbourhood 
 whence the lads start is employed. If any former colo7i, 
 who is a tailor, can be found living near, the preference 
 is given to him. On this occasion alterations, as usual, 
 had to be made, and the tailor sent for had been at 
 Mettray, When he had finished his work, he begged 
 permission of M. Demetz to invite the new colons to 
 supper before they left the town. Consent was readily 
 granted, when the man said he wished to ask a very 
 great favour, so great, indeed, that he had not the courage 
 
FREDERIC AUGUSTE DEMETZ. 275 
 
 to explain it. M. Demetz, telling him not to be afraid, 
 begged him to say what it was a he desired. Notwith- 
 standing this encouragement, ifr was some time before he 
 ventured to explain that this very great favour was no 
 less than the company of his benefactor at the supper. M. 
 Demetz, as can be readily imagined, did not consider the 
 favour too great to be granted, and cordially accepted his 
 former pupil's invitation. While they were all at table, the 
 host, turning to the youths, thus addressed them : — "You 
 see what I am now ; well, I was once what you have been. 
 I became a colon at Mettray, as you are now about to 
 become ; and you see what abundant means of happiness 1 
 possess. I have a nourishing business, a good wife, a 
 dear child. These are great blessings ; but the greatest of 
 all is to receive at my own table, and in my own house, 
 my benefactor, the revered director of Mettray." 
 
 Visitors of the highest distinction from foreign coun- 
 tries are attracted to Mettray ; and among these, Lord 
 Brougham has been an honoured guest. His sojourn there 
 is recorded in the report for 18o4, with affectionate respect. 
 
 Our limits are exceeded, but we can hardly regret our 
 want of space to dwell on what remains to be told. 
 Even the strong constitution of Demetz has at last suc- 
 cumbed .under the pressure of his toils and anxieties, 
 increased, we fear, by the withdrawal of the Government 
 grants. He is struck with paralysis ! By God's blessing 
 the affliction of his body has not reached his mind. His 
 pains and infirmities are solaced by filial assiduity, and 
 by the ministrations of sympathising friends. But higher 
 comfort attends him in reflecting on the abundant harvest 
 which Providence has vouchsafed to his labours — a harvest 
 which will be repeated and extended long years after he 
 shall have gone to his rest ! 
 
 s2 . 
 

 276 
 
 SARAH P. REMOND. 
 
 Miss Eemond, who has kindly favoured us with the follow- 
 ing autobiography, is a coloured lady of great talent and 
 energy. She is gifted with natural eloquence, and is thus 
 qualified for the profession she has adopted — that of a 
 lecturer on the anti-slavery question. During her stay in 
 England she has made a tour through some of our principal 
 towns, where her spontaneous appeals were listened to 
 with respect, and even with admiration. 
 
 " I was born at Salem, Massachusetts, the youngest but 
 one of ten children of John and Nancy Remond. Salem 
 is fourteen miles from Boston, and is one of the most 
 healthy and pleasant of New England towns. It contains 
 about 25,000 inhabitants, who are characterised by general 
 intelligence, industry, and enterprise, and few towns in 
 the States can boast of more wealth and refinement than 
 Salem. My mother was born at Newton, seven miles 
 from Boston, and her immediate ancestors were natives of 
 that vicinity. Nancy Remond is a woman possessing 
 every characteristic which can adorn or ennoble woman- 
 hood, combined with the most indomitable energy. We 
 were all trained to habits of industry, with a thorough 
 knowledge of those domestic duties which particularly 
 mark the genuine New England woman. With no 
 private means, it was also most necessary. We were taught 
 to knit and sew, and to cook every article of food placed 
 upon the table. The most trifling affair was obliged to 
 be well done. Her aim seemed to be to guard, and at the 
 same time strengthen her children, not only for the trials 
 and duties of life, but also to enable them to meet the 
 
SARAH P. REMOND. 277 
 
 terrible pressure which prejudice against colour would 
 force upon them. Our home discipline was what we 
 needed ; but it did not — could not, fit us for the scorn and 
 contempt which met us on every hand when face to face 
 with the world, where we met a community who hated 
 all who were identified with an enslaved race. While 
 our mother never excused those who so unjustly perse- 
 cuted those whose only crime was a dark complexion, her 
 , discipline taught us to gather strength from our own souls, 
 j and we felt the full force of the fact, that to be black was 
 , no crime, but an accident of birth. 
 
 " It seems important to state this, as prejudice against 
 
 | colour has always been the one thing, above all others, 
 
 which has cast its gigantic shadow over my whole life. 
 
 In joy or sorrow, whether pursuing the pleasures or 
 
 \ business of life, it has thrust itself, like a huge sphinx, 
 
 1 darkening my pathway, and, at times, almost overwhelm- 
 
 I ing the soul constantly called to meet such a conflict. 
 
 Let no one suppose that every member of the community 
 
 treated us with mixed contempt and cruelty. No, thanks 
 
 to the better part of human nature, there were those who 
 
 would gladly have saved us from such an ordeal. Most 
 
 gladly would they have enlightened with the spirit of 
 
 justice a civilised people, who thus willingly insulted any 
 
 of the human family. But these were few, very few ; only 
 
 exceptions to the general rule. As a community, the 
 
 most refined and the most vulgar treated every coloured 
 
 person, so far as their personal rights were concerned, 
 
 worse than criminals. In such an atmosphere, so well 
 
 calculated to crush out all the finer feelings, and almost 
 
 to make one despair, I grew to womanhood. 
 
 "My strongest desire through life has been to be 
 educated. We had from time to time been taught to read 
 
278 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 and write a little, but had received no regular instruction. 
 T found the most exquisite pleasure in reading, and, as we 
 had no library, I read every book which came in my way, 
 and, like Oliver Twist, I longed for more. Again and 
 again, mother would endeavour to have us placed in some 
 private school, but, being coloured, we were refused. We 
 soon knew the real reason, and the most bitter and 
 indignant feelings were cherished by me against those 
 who deprived me of the opportunity of gaining knowledge. 
 My eldest brother had been admitted to one of the public 
 schools, and, at a much later period, the three youngest 
 children, including myself, were admitted to one of the 
 public primary schools. All went on well for a time, 
 and the children generally treated us kindly, although 
 we were very frequently made to feel that prejudice had 
 taken root in their hearts. We remained in this school 
 a very short time, passed the examination, and entered 
 the high school for girls. In the primary school we had 
 been taught by a lady ; the principal of the high school 
 was a gentleman. Both teachers always treated us with 
 kindness. We had been in this school a very short time, 
 when we were informed that the school committee con- 
 templated founding a school exclusively for coloured 
 children. The public schools of Salem are located in the 
 different districts, and the established rule was, that chil- 
 dren can only be admitted to the school in the district of 
 their residence, and we were in the school of the district 
 where we resided. 
 
 " The schools were then divided into separate ones 
 for the boys and girls. These schools were also arranged 
 according to age and capacity. Now, they intended to 
 found a school for young and old, advanced pupils, and 
 those less advanced ; boys and girls were all to occupy 
 
SARAH P. REMOND. 279 
 
 but one room. The many disadvantages can be seen at a 
 glance. It did not matter to this committee, who 
 merely reflected the public sentiment of the community, 
 in what district a coloured child might live ; it must walk 
 in the heat of summer, and the cold of winter, to this 
 one school. But more than all this, it was publicly 
 branding us with degradation. The child of everv 
 foreigner could enter any public school, while the children 
 of native-born parents were to be thus insulted and 
 robbed of their personal rights. My father waited upon 
 the school committee, and most earnestly protested against 
 their proposed plan. We still continued to attend the 
 school, but felt much anxiety. One morning, about an 
 hour before the usual time for dismissing the pupils, the 
 teacher informed us that we could no longer be per- 
 mitted to attend the school, that he had received orders 
 from the committee to give us this information, and 
 added, ' I wish to accompany you home, as I wish to 
 converse with your parents upon the matter.' Some of 
 the pupils seemed indignant, and two expressed much 
 sympathy. I had no words for any one ; I only wept 
 bitter tears ; then, in a few minutes, I thought of the 
 great injustice practised upon me, and longed for some 
 power to help me to crush those who thus robbed me 
 of my personal rights. 
 
 "Years have elapsed since this occurred, but the 
 memory of it is as fresh as ever in my mind, and like the 
 scarlet letter of Hester, is engraven on my heart. We 
 had been expelled from the school on the sole ground of 
 our complexion. The teacher walked home with us, held 
 a long conversation with our parents, said he was pained 
 by the course taken by the school committee, but added 
 it was owing to the prejudice against colour which existed 
 
280 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 in the community. He also said we were among his best 
 pupils, for good lessons, punctuality, &c. Add to this the 
 fact that my father was a tax-payer for years before I 
 was born, and it will need no extra clear vision to perceive 
 that American prejudice against free-born men and 
 women is as deep-rooted as it is hateful and cruel. 
 
 " In such a community, it is always easy to call forth 
 this feeling as the occasion may require. It is always to 
 be felt in a greater or less degree. Our parents decided 
 we should not enter an inferior exclusive public school, 
 and in a short time our whole family removed to Newport, 
 Rhode Island. Here we met the same difficulty. The 
 schools would not receive coloured pupils. Large fortunes 
 were formerly made by the foreign slave trade in this 
 town, and, if report was true, the chains worn by some of 
 the wretched victims of that inhuman traffic could still be 
 seen in the cellars of some of the houses of the elder 
 citizens. Be this as it may, the spirit of prejudice was 
 exceedingly bitter in Newport. A private school was 
 established by a few of the more influential of the 
 coloured citizens, and for a time I was a pupil. Thus 
 ended my school-days, and the limited teaching I had; and 
 its desultory character was not its only disadvantage. 
 
 u Separate churches and schools for coloured persons 
 are an immense disadvantage to the descendants of the 
 African race, and a great drawback to their elevation. 
 They are based completely on prejudice against colour, 
 the legitimate offspring of American slavery, and it is to 
 be regretted that many well-wishers to the coloured race 
 assist in sustaining them. Accustom any one to occupy 
 any position in life, based upon an accident of birth, and 
 wrong ideas will be engendered. Accustom every indi- 
 vidual who has fair hair and blue eyes, to feel that they 
 
SAEAH P. REMOXD. 281 
 
 cannot enjoy their personal rights, that they must 
 worship God in a separate church, must be educated 
 apart from the general community, and — it does not 
 matter to what race they belong — many disadvantages will 
 be felt ; and let this be done from childhood to maturity, 
 and the impression will not be easily, if ever, effaced. 
 
 " I never knew a pro-slavery man or woman who did 
 not do all they could to encourage and keep up separate 
 schools and churches, enforcing at the same time the idea 
 that God intended such distinction to be made. There is 
 a refinement of cruelty in the treatment of this class of 
 persons, rather difficult to describe to those who have 
 never seen the working of prejudice against colour. The 
 more intelligence and refinement they possess, the more 
 liable they are to insult. The chivalry of America seems to 
 take immense satisfaction in insulting those who will feel it 
 the most keenly. It is, in fact, considered presuming 
 for any coloured man or woman to demand their just 
 rights. In New York, Philadelphia, and other cities, they 
 are excluded from public hotels, and are not allowed to ride 
 in an omnibus. In Philadelphia, the managers of one of 
 the finest halls have an established rule that on no public 
 occasion shall any coloured person be admitted. Men, 
 women, and children, have been obliged to remain on 
 the decks of steam-boats all night, travelling from New- 
 port and Providence to New York, the coldest nights in 
 winter ; and an intimate personal friend of mine took 
 cold on one of these boats, and was the victim of con- 
 sumption in consequence. Again, and again, persons 
 have been ordered from places of amusement, and in some 
 instances, forcibly taken out. I was myself forcibly 
 removed from the Howard Athenaeum, in the city of 
 Boston, and my arm injured ; and after this, on the public 
 
282 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 bills, could be seen announced that coloured persons 
 could only be admitted to a particular part of the house. 
 The press of Boston, as a rule, encouraged this proscrip- 
 tion, and one of the leading papers put forth an elaborate 
 article, in every way worthy of the spirit of hatred, 
 against a race guilty of no crime, but having a complexion 
 which identifies them with a proscribed race. 
 
 " In the meantime we had returned to our native 
 town. I had now reached an age when my services were 
 more required at home, as every member of the family was 
 expected to contribute a share toward the general whole. 
 We left Newport with some regret. The coloured popu- 
 lation was of an elevated character, and for industry, 
 morality, and native intellect, would compare favourably 
 with any class in the community. Our social relations 
 had been pleasant, and the natural beauties of Newport 
 were most enchanting. Although I had few leisure 
 hours, I read more or less daily. Our home was con- 
 stantly supplied with the best daily and weekly news- 
 papers, and I could obtain from public libraries, and 
 often from the private libraries of friends, some of the 
 best English and American literature. These were 
 resources of which even prejudice could not deprive me. 
 A book once obtained, I could peruse it with pleasure 
 and profit. When some friend would play on some 
 favourite musical instrument, or sing a song, no negro 
 hater could rob me of the pleasure I enjoyed. When 
 some abolitionist who had buried all prejudice against 
 colour, which education and habit had taught — whose 
 wealth of intellect and accumulated knowlege was the 
 admiration of even those who pl&ced no value on the 
 principles of justice and humanity, which the abolitionists 
 of the States have ever inculcated — when such a one was 
 
I SARAH P. REMOND. 283 
 
 the guest of my parents, I treasured up in the store-house 
 of memory the information derived from conversations in 
 the society of some of the most gifted of the sons and 
 daughters of America, and whose genius and disinterested 
 devotion to the cause of the American slave have stamped 
 themselves indelibly upon the age in which they live. 
 These opportunities were not frequent, but they were 
 valuable. Heading was the staple and never - failing- 
 resource. 
 
 "Persons accustomed to find no obstacle in their 
 way to improvement, except such as come as a matter 
 of course, can little understand the feelings of those who 
 have not only all which is the lot of any one, but an 
 accumulation of obstacles to surmount, engendered by 
 prejudice. American politics claimed my attention, but 
 the influence derived from that prolific source was not 
 elevating. If some matter-of-fact historian should write 
 the political history of the United States, from the forma- 
 tion of the government until the present time, it might 
 serve as a warning to future generations, but would 
 neither elevate humanity, nor advance the moral progress 
 of the world. 
 
 " My statements thus far have been made in reference 
 to the coloured population of the free States. In 
 the Southern Slave States, quite a different order of 
 things prevails, and the laws in reference to the coloured 
 race, whether bond or free, are cruel in the extreme. 
 And although in some of the free States the treatment 
 (in some instances) of the coloured people has been much 
 improved by the efforts of the abolitionists, still the laws 
 which emanate from the compromises of the constitution, 
 as the Fugitive Slave Law, and the Dred Scott decision, 
 are most keenly felt by all the coloured race; — the 
 
284 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 Fugitive Slave Law, which returns into bondage every 
 slave who seeks an asylum in a free State from the slave 
 hunters and their bloodhounds, who in many instances 
 have kidnapped free persons of colour ; the Dred Scott 
 decision, which declares that ' black men and women 
 have no rights which white men are bound to respect,' 
 completely annihilating the citizenship of every coloured 
 American ; also, the inhuman slave laws of the slave 
 States, which place every slave at the complete mercy of 
 the master, — laws which prevent any black person from 
 giving testimony in a court of justice against a white 
 person, no matter what outrage may have been com- 
 mitted upon the victim, and who, consequently, can make 
 no appeal to the laws of the land. 
 
 u Previous to the year 1829, no decided effort had been 
 made in behalf of the slave population. Now, a young 
 man, a native of the State of Massachusetts, essentially a 
 man of the people, demands the immediate emancipation 
 of every slave, as the right of the victim, and the duty of 
 the master. His clarion voice is heard, and the nation 
 wonders. What ? the negro a man ! The American 
 people had never dreamed that the slaves had rights in 
 common with themselves, and a demand based upon 
 justice filled the people with consternation ! They con- 
 sidered the coloured race as so many beasts of burthen. 
 My mother hailed the advent of this young and noble 
 apostle of liberty with enthusiasm, and among my earliest 
 impressions is mingled the name of that now venerated 
 friend of the oppressed, William L. Garrison. As 
 years rolled on, I became more and more interested in 
 every effort made in behalf of the enslaved. The germ of 
 a glorious reform was now planted, and had taken root •; 
 the American Anti-Slavery Society was founded, based upon 
 
SARAH P. REM0ND. 2S5 
 
 principles which, in every age, had broken the bonds of 
 the oppressor, and elevated humanity. Auxiliary societies 
 were formed in different localities of the free States, and 
 a nucleus formed, around which the friends of freedom 
 have rallied. Although mobocracy and various kinds of 
 persecution met them on every hand, all who had counted 
 the cost, and were in earnest, still pursued their way, 
 trusting in the justice of their cause. My eldest brother 
 early in the conflict, publicly advocated the cause of his 
 enslaved countrymen, and from my earliest days, until I 
 left the States, fifteen months since, I have attended the 
 public meetings of the abolitionists. I am grateful beyond 
 expression for the many influences which led me to 
 become familiar with the principles and mode of action 
 destined to completely upset that vile system of American 
 chattel slavery, which is, at the present time, demoralising 
 the various ramifications of the country. 
 
 " As time rolled on, the antagonism between freedom 
 and slavery became more and more conflicting. I was 
 led to investigate, to the best of my ability, the causes 
 from which sprang such conflicting principles. At the 
 same time, convinced that the anti-slavery element was 
 the only source of hope for the slave, I also endeavoured 
 to acquaint myself with the operations of the friends of 
 freedom, whose principles will finally emancipate the 
 bondmen. 
 
 "In 1857 I was urged by a few friends to speak in 
 public. A defective education, and a pro-slavery atmo- 
 sphere, are not the best incentives for such a purpose. 
 After much consideration, and encouraged by one of the 
 noblest women of my native State, one who had made 
 many sacrifices, and spent the best years of her life in 
 publicly advocating the cause of the slave, I started on 
 
286 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 my first anti-slavery tour, in company with my brother, 
 Charles L. B-emond. We, travelled in the State of New 
 York. Upon the obstacles which met me after this 
 determination I do not think it necessary to dwell. I 
 was quite determined to persevere. I was always kindly 
 and warmly welcomed by the most earnest friends of the 
 slave. From 1857 until within one week of my sailing 
 for England, December 29th, 1858, from time to time 
 I continued to speak in public. I had an intense desire 
 to visit England, that I might for a time enjoy freedom, 
 and I hoped to serve the anti-slavery cause at the same 
 time." 
 
 Miss Remond has a sister, Mrs. Putnam, who came 
 to England as a first-class passenger in an English steam- 
 vessel, highly subsidised by the British Government for 
 the transport of the mails. The captain, with the concur- 
 rence of the owners, subjected this lady and her family to 
 the indignity of being refused places at the public table, 
 merely on the ground that American passengers objected 
 to associate with persons of colour. This unworthy sub- 
 mission to foreign prejudice was denounced by Lord 
 Brougham in Parliament, and was the subject of indignant 
 comment in many of our journals. We are glad to record 
 that on her return, in a mail-packet belonging to the 
 Company by which she had been thus treated, Mrs. 
 Putnam was permitted to take her place at table 
 without objection, although American slaveowners were 
 among the passengers. An auspicious omen ! 
 
 Miss Remond is now (September, 1860) a student at 
 the Ladies' College in Bedford-square, London, availing 
 herself with ardour of her long-sought opportunity for 
 reaping the advantages of a liberal education. 
 
287 
 
 JOHfl PLUMMET. 
 
 Few who attended the soiree of the Mechanics' Institution 
 at Bradford, in 1859, can forget with what enthusiasm 
 the names of the candidates were received who had gained 
 Mr. Cassell's prizes for the best essays on various subjects, 
 by members of the working classes. Among them was 
 that of John Plummer, who won a prize for his essay on 
 Sanitary Reform. He had also contributed a paper on 
 Strikes — to be read at the meeting of the Association for 
 the Promotion of Social Science, held at the same time 
 and place — which was characterised by Lord Brougham 
 as the best that had appeared on the subject. 
 
 Attracted by his publications, many persons of rank 
 superior to his own have sought his acquaintance, and 
 have made him valuable presents of books. The Rev. Sir 
 G. S. Robinson thus speaks of him, and those like him, 
 among his fellow- workmen : — 
 
 * I am happy to state that amongst our artisans are to be found 
 many intelligent men, who are an honour to their country, and 
 who, it is to be hoped, will eventually leaven the whole lot. . . . 
 I know one such man as those to whom I have alluded. I have on 
 my lips one name — the name of an honest and intelligent man, 
 who has laboured hard to enlighten his fellow-workmen on such 
 questions as these [Strikes and Sanitary Reform]. He has laboured 
 hard here and elsewhere ; but in London his warnings have been 
 disregarded, and he has been treated as disrespectfully as elsewhere. 
 I allude to John Plummer, of Kettering, whom I know to be an 
 honest man, and who has had the courage to tell his fellow-workmen 
 the truth. It is to the labours of such men that I look forward 
 for great things to come." 
 
 In 1859 Lord Palmerston granted him the sum of 
 
288 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 ,£40 from the Royal Bounty Fund, in acknowledgment 
 of his services in the cause of Social Science. 
 
 The following memoir of Mr. Plummer has been 
 mainly drawn from notes with which he has kindly sup- 
 plied us for the present work. 
 
 John Plummer was born in the year 1833, in Rose- 
 mary Lane, near the Tower, one of the worst districts 
 of London. "In a small room in Rosemary Lane, four- 
 teen adults" (so it is stated in " Lights and Shadows of 
 London Life") "were found sleeping on the floor, without 
 any partition or regard to decency." Plummer' s father 
 was a stay-maker in a small way. He was always 
 considered a very precocious child ; and being quiet and 
 unobtrusive, he was a great favourite among his relatives, 
 who made him many a little present of halfpenny picture- 
 books, and paint-boxes, his favourite toys. Indeed, so 
 enchanting were the former to him, that, while under- 
 going a severe surgical operation, the sight of a picture- 
 book kept him quiet when all other expedients had failed. 
 To this delight in pictures he owes his first aspirations 
 for knowledge, to the attainment of which he has since 
 devoted himself with an ardour rarely equalled. 
 
 His parents sent him to a school kept by an old 
 woman, whose teaching did not extend beyond the 
 alphabet, while she maintained order and discipline 
 among her pupils with a cane. " Hundreds of the 
 poorer classes," says Plummer, "have had, and are re- 
 ceiving at the present time, no better education than 
 this, and I fear, until some compulsory measures are 
 adopted, that, notwithstanding the rapid increase of 
 infant-schools, the evil will continue." 
 
 When he was about seven or eight years of age, his 
 
JOHN PLUMMER. 289 
 
 father ruptured a blood-vessel. A long and dangerous 
 illness ensued, during which the business was broken up, 
 so that the family lost their means of livelihood. John 
 was sent to an uncle at St. Alban's, where he was y&ty 
 kindly treated, that his parents might be relieved of his 
 maintenance in this season of bitter trial. 
 
 He was brought back to take leave of a little brother 
 lying at the point of death. From this sad parting all 
 is a blank in his memory, until he found himself recover- 
 ing from a fever, which, proving almost fatal, left him 
 deaf and a cripple for life ! The announcement of his 
 calamity was made to him in a similar manner to that 
 which Dr. Kitto describes as occurring to himself. The 
 words, " You are deaf," were written on a slate and 
 shown to him. When sufficiently recovered to move 
 about, he dragged his tiny form along, supported by two 
 little crutches, attracting many a glance of sympathy 
 from the passers-by. His father having recovered, and 
 obtained work, John was sent to an infant-school. 
 Hitherto, child as he was, he had not comprehended the 
 extent of his deprivation. It forced itself upon his mind 
 now in all its magnitude. The teachers considering him 
 too deaf to be taught, did little more than put the books 
 into his hand, seldom calling him up for examination ; 
 while his infirmities rendered him a butt for the ridicule 
 and mischievous tricks of his school-fellows. Here he 
 remained scarcely three months. A few evenings passed 
 in a private school, added to what we have already 
 related, make up the whole of the teaching Plummer 
 received, if we except his instruction at the School of 
 Design, hereafter to be mentioned. 
 
 The house which his parents at this time occupied 
 was in Whitechapel, and consisted merely of two little 
 
 T 
 
290 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 rooms, one of which was the sitting apartment, while the 
 other was used for sleeping, and as a cutting-room by 
 his father. In this miserable abode, six persons were 
 forced to dwell, although there was scarcely accommoda- 
 tion for two. 
 
 While his father was employed at the factory, his 
 mother undertook the giving out of stay-work at home, 
 for the firm who employed his father; or, in other words, 
 the sweating system was pursued by his parents, as 
 part of their means of livelihood. For the benefit of 
 such of our readers as may not understand the term 
 "sweating," we will state that it means taking work 
 from establishments at the regular price, and giving it 
 out to be made up at a lower price; the difference between 
 the two scales of payment constituting the profit of the 
 sweater, he meanwhile taking upon himself all risk of 
 loss or damage. This middle-man between the employer 
 and the employed has been the object of undeserved 
 reproach ; his services being rendered necessary by the 
 unreliable conduct and principles of the low class of 
 workers for whom he makes himself responsible. The 
 losses consequent on these defects in the character of the 
 inferior artisan would preclude the possibility of em- 
 ploying him at all, but for the intervention of the sweater, 
 who, of course, must be remunerated for his risk, which, 
 after all, he would find ruinous, were it not for his con- 
 stant vigilance ; so that, although the profit of the sweater 
 is a grievous deduction from the wages of the poor opera- 
 tive, yet it is an evil which the sufferer brings upon 
 himself, and from which moral improvement can alone 
 relieve him and his class. Doubtless there are many 
 individual cases in which the emjDloyer might safely 
 intrust his property to the worker unwatched, but his 
 
JOHN PLUMMER. 291 
 
 means of making the selection mnst be very imperfect. 
 It may also be that trusty workers are insufficient in 
 number in any particular district to answer his purpose. 
 
 It was John's business, occasionally, to carry the work 
 to the people, and in this way he became thoroughly 
 familar with almost every phase of low life at the east 
 end of London ; whether down in Shadwell, Batcliffe, 
 TThitechapel, Bethnal Green, or elsewhere. "Little did 
 I dream at the time," says Mr. Plummer, "that I was 
 laying in a stock of experience and knowledge, of which 
 I trust, some day, to make good use; but so it was, 
 and I only regret that I cannot find leisure to give a few 
 sketches of what I daily beheld. Suffice it to say, that 
 Mayhew's ' London Labour and the London Poor' will 
 do so to a great extent; for although I cannot agree with 
 the author in the conclusions at which he arrives, yet I 
 can testify, of my own positive knowledge, as to the 
 graphic fidelity of his narratives." 
 
 Being prevented by his infirmities from joining in the 
 out-door sports of the neighbours' children, he had to 
 find amusement for himself. A favourite one was to look 
 into the books and periodicals displayed in the news- 
 vendor's windows. He was often tempted to spend any 
 stray coin he might possess on penny publications, though 
 at that time unable to read with fluency. By diligently 
 studying, however, in every leisure moment, these, and 
 all other works which fell in his way, he surmounted 
 this impediment. He speaks of Bunyan's " Holy War," 
 and " Bobinson Crusoe," as his favourites in youth. Ac 
 first he took especial delight in novels, and read every one 
 he could obtain from the penny circulating libraries ; but, 
 by degrees, his interest in them waned, until, at last, his 
 appetite was completely sated. 
 
 t2 
 
292 
 
 OUK EXEMPLAKS. 
 
 i: Thousands of my fellow-toilers," he says, "are at the 
 present moment undergoing a similar process. Whether 
 novel-reading be an evil or not, I can positively state 
 that hut for the interest and excitement occasioned by 
 the perusal of such works, I could never have attained 
 the power of reading more than one page of a book 
 continuously. The tone and general 'getting-up' of 
 penny literature has, as we all are aware, greatly im- 
 proved within the last few years, but it is still the fact, 
 that the poorer and the more miserable the neighbour- 
 hood, the more certain is the literature of the inhabitants 
 to consist of the lowest kind of trashy novels and periodi- 
 cals. The influence which they possess on the minds of 
 the people it is impossible to calculate, but they have this 
 one redeeming feature — they tend to arrest the attention 
 of their readers, and to awaken, faintly it may be, a desire 
 for other means of relaxation from the cares of life than 
 the public-house." 
 
 In his literary pursuits he met with small encourage- 
 ment from his friends ; on the contrary, his studies drew 
 down upon him their censure. They seem to have for- 
 gotten that he was cut off by his infirmities from almost 
 every other enjoyment. 
 
 After a time another interest took possession of his 
 mind, and he began to sketch figures on anything he 
 could appropriate to the purpose. With pieces of char- 
 coal, chalk, or ochre, he would draw heads, cottages, &c, 
 on dead walls, or on the pavement before the houses; but 
 while his rude efforts procured him the admiration of the 
 youngsters, the exasperated occupiers would testify their 
 opinion of his performances by administering a severe 
 beating. 
 
 The narratives of painters who had raised themselves 
 
JOHN PLUMMER. 293 
 
 from obscurity to wealth, rank, and fame, fired Plummer's 
 imagination, and he determined to devote himself to 
 drawing, with a view to becoming an artist at some future 
 period. He attended the School of Design in Spitalfields, 
 where he made great progress, in a short time obtaining 
 prize after prize, and that amid powerful competition. 
 Had he been able to remain he might have done well ; 
 but this, the happiest period of his life, was cut short by 
 the bankruptcy of his father's employer in 1853, and the 
 subsequent removal of the family to Kettering, in North- 
 amptonshire, where Plummer and his father had obtained 
 a promise of work in a stay factory. Meanwhile, John 
 had received through the master an offer of gratuitous 
 tuition at the School of Design ; gladly would he have 
 accepted it could he have found means of supporting 
 himself during the period of study, but that was impos- 
 sible and, thus he was obliged to forego, for life, the 
 benefit of this kind proposal. 
 
 Soon after their arrival at Kettering, John lost his 
 mother, who died after a lingering illness. " If there is 
 anything good in me," says he, "any little talent, any 
 piety, or anything by which my brethren may learn to 
 associate my name with what is right, let her have the 
 credit, for she was a good and kind mother to me ; 
 although she could aid my efforts but little, owing to her 
 having broken her leg a few years after my birth, and, 
 in consequence, becoming almost bed-ridden." 
 
 In the year 1855 Mr. Plummer began to contribute 
 letters and poems to the local newspapers, and thus he 
 acquired his facility of composition. 
 
 At the commencement of 1858 there occurred a strike 
 among the shoemakers of Northampton, on the attempt 
 to introduce into that town certain machinery which had 
 
294 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 been successfully employed in other places. Meetings 
 were held, and addresses delivered, which resulted in the 
 formation of a society for mutual protection among the 
 workmen. In illustration of the line of conduct they 
 adopted, Mr. Plummer relates the following circum- 
 stance : — 
 
 " My brother (a young man of 19) wished to exchange his pre- 
 sent employment for the more congenial one of shoemaking. He 
 applied to a shoemaker, one of the members of the committee, who 
 agreed to teach him on the receipt of a certain amount as remu- 
 neration ; but after the agreement, and before my brother went to 
 learn, the Kettering branch [of the above-mentioned society] passed 
 a bye -law to the effect that no one should be allowed to learn the 
 
 art of shoemaking, after he had attained the age of 17 
 
 On this, the person who had engaged to teach him declined doing 
 so; he therefore applied to another man (not belonging to the 
 society), but this person was deterred by threats ; so he determined 
 to teach himself, and so far succeeded, that he was able to obtain 
 employment from a wholesale firm in the trade. But the Ketter- 
 ing executive sent a deputation to wait on the masters, to inform 
 them that if they continued to employ Japheth Plummer, they 
 would strike the shop." 
 
 This compelled them, reluctantly, to discharge him. 
 
 " A working man myself," continues Mr. Plummer, " I have 
 experienced the hard and bitter trials which but too often reduce 
 us to eat the bread of charity, or linger out our days in the cheer- 
 less poor-house; and therefore I trust that no man will accuse 
 me of hostility to my order — an order which I feel proud of belong- 
 ing to — when I dare to assert that which I know and feel to be my 
 right. The same spirit which animates and strengthens our soul: 
 against the tyranny of the oppressor, in whatever shape he may 
 inflict it, also nerves us to resist any invasion of our rights, whether 
 by master or man ; and never will we falter in our crusade against 
 the unjust enactments of those who have no right whatever to 
 enforce them. One of the rights which I claim for myself and 
 my brethren is the absolute freedom of labour in every shape what- 
 soever" 
 
JOHX PLUMMER. 295 
 
 John Plummer addressed several letters expressing 
 tliese sentiments to the local papers. The editors declined 
 to insert them, and Plnmmer then undertook the vindi- 
 cation of his brother's rights in a pamphlet, entitled the 
 "Freedom of Labour;" the same from which we have 
 just quoted. It was dedicated to Lord Brougham, and 
 we find the following mention of it in his speech on 
 "Popular Literature," at Liverpool, in 1858 : — 
 
 "There lies before me a short treatise by a working man, popu- 
 larly written, . . . with a view of removing the prevalent but 
 dangerous delusions on the subject of capital and wages, by ex- 
 plaining the true principles of economical science on this head. 
 Xo student of that philosophy at the English — nay, at any of 
 the Scotch Universities, where it is more cultivated — could have 
 produced a better reasoned tract, or one showing more entire 
 acquaintance with its principles. 3 ' 
 
 "We can, perhaps, hardly imagine to ourselves the 
 encouragement which the approbation of such a man 
 would give to the self-taught mechanic. "I was in a 
 book-shop," he says, " and accidentally took up the Times, 
 when the paragraph first attracted my attention, and I 
 was so astonished that I could hardly believe that I w^as 
 in my senses. Had I, the deaf, lame, neglected boy, the 
 humble factory toiler, won the approbation of one of the 
 greatest men that ever lived ? Surely it could not be 
 true ! But it teas true, and from that time I have 
 laboured with an energy, determination, and spirit, of 
 which I never before deemed myself capable, till I dashed 
 down all barriers and prejudices, and now I find myself 
 a ' character' in the annals of Northamptonshire !" 
 
 On the publication of his tract he was burnt in effigy 
 by the infuriated shoemakers, and was frequently menaced 
 with personal violence. Similar threats were used towards 
 
296 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 his brother, who prosecuted several of his enemies. Public 
 opinion compelled the strike party to allow Japheth to 
 practise his trade of shoemaking ; but he was never free 
 from the taunts and sneers of his fellow- workmen, which 
 so affected his spirits, that, unable to endure them, he was 
 one morning found missing, and for many months all 
 traces of him were lost. His family made efforts to obtain 
 tidings of him, and at length disco verecl that he had en- 
 listed for a soldier. 
 
 John perseveres in authorship, writing pamphlets on 
 various subjects connected with social progress ; and has 
 recently determined, with the advice of many of his 
 friends, to publish, by subscription, a volume of his poems, 
 to be entitled " Songs of Labour." 
 
 The number of printed articles written by Mr. Plum- 
 mer, within the last five years and a half, amounts to more 
 than a thousand ;, and these have been composed without 
 interfering with his labours at the stay factory, where he 
 is employed from half-past six in the morning until seven 
 at night, in tending a large cutting machine, worked by 
 steam-power, from which he comes away black and toil- 
 worn. 
 
 His physical exertions, combined with great mental 
 labour, to obtain time for which he rarely allows himself 
 more than five hours for sleep, are taxing his powers 
 beyond their strength. We are, however, not without 
 hope that a future less exhausting is before him, in which 
 also the object of his earnest wishes may be attained — 
 leisure for more abundant services to his order, and to 
 the community at large. 
 
297 
 
 SARAH MARTIX. 
 
 The life of Sarah Martin has already been written in 
 more than one popular form, and we propose, therefore, 
 in this sketch, to limit ourselves, as far as possible, to 
 information which has not yet appeared in print, and for 
 which we are indebted to the kindness of correspondents 
 who were personally acquainted with her. 
 
 Born in 1791, the daughter of a small tradesman, at 
 Caister, near Great Yarmouth, she lost her parents in 
 early childhood, and was brought up by her grandmother, 
 an excellent woman, of whom she always spoke with deep 
 affection and respect. As her relative advanced in years, 
 Sarah repaid her care; and the grief she experienced in 
 losing her may be gathered from one of her poems, 
 entitled, " Recollections of my Beloved Grandmother." * 
 
 Their means were very narrow, and Sarah received but 
 little schooling. At fifteen she was already supporting 
 herself by dressmaking, working by the day in gentle- 
 men's houses. To excel in whatever she undertook was 
 a necessity of her nature, and she was distinguished for 
 skill and neatness as a seamstress. A passion for reading, 
 and great facility in committing to memory, stored her 
 mind with long passages from our English classics ; and, 
 while sewing or when her day's work was done, she 
 would recite Shakspere's plays, and other poems, to the 
 children of the families where she was employed. Her 
 disposition was warm and loving, and fondness for chil- 
 
 * 'Selections from the Poetical Remains of the late Miss Sarah 
 Martin ' Yarmouth: James M. Denew. This little volume contains an 
 admirably written memoir of the authoress. 
 
298 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 dren and animals was one of her characteristics through 
 life. 
 
 Her grandmother was a woman of great piety, and 
 possibly may have dwelt upon religious topics more 
 frequently than the young girl's state of mind would bear. 
 It is difficult otherwise to account for the scepticism and 
 
 positive loathing of all sacred subjects, the recollection of 
 
 
 which, at a subsequent period, cast a dark shadow upon 
 Sarah's reminiscences of her youth; for although that 
 portion of her life appears to have been equally blameless 
 with her later years, she was accustomed to look back 
 upon it as utterly sinful. When about eighteen, a sermon 
 she chanced to hear roused her from her disbelief, and 
 applying herself to theology, she studied it with her 
 accustomed vigour. Her "dear executrix," as in her 
 will she denominates Mrs. Grlasspoole, a lady who became 
 acquainted with her at this time, and remained her friend 
 through life, recollects that, when calling late in the day 
 at the humble cottage where Sarah and her grandmother 
 dwelt, she would often find her just returned from work, 
 eating her evening meal in haste, that she might accom- 
 plish some indispensable domestic task before sitting 
 down to the pursuit which now engrossed her thoughts. 
 Her energetic speed would draw from her grandmother 
 the expostulation, " Sally, child, how you do hurry and 
 bustle ! " to which she would answer, " I have no time to 
 lose, grandmother ; " and, having discharged her household 
 duties, she would become absorbed in divinity. For many 
 months her unwearied researches brought no conviction to 
 her mind ; at length, quite suddenly, belief in the truth 
 of revealed religion flashed upon her, and, from that day, 
 she was a sincere, devout, and practical Christian. The 
 views she adopted were those of the Established Church. 
 
SARAH MARTIN. 299 
 
 About the same time her philanthropic labours com- 
 menced, which, leaving her scant leisure for study, she 
 preferred, as she said, to confine herself to the fountain 
 head ; thenceforth she read little else than the Bible, 
 which she went through four times a-year, making copious 
 extracts and commentaries. To this abandonment of 
 controversial literature, perhaps, may be attributed her 
 perfect toleration towards every sect. Charity was an 
 eminent quality of her niind ; thus, if she heard the 
 failings of others discussed, she would sayj " We had better 
 not talk about them, but pray for them." 
 
 Early in 1810 Sarah Martin was enabled to gratify 
 her strong desire to visit the poor in the workhouse, 
 where the thankfulness with which her visits were received 
 filled her heart with gladness. In the same year, after 
 some difficulty, she procured admission to the gaol, and 
 commenced those labours which, gradually increasing, at 
 length occupied her whole time. Soon she abstracted 
 one day in the week from dressmaking, devoting it to 
 the prisoners, her small earnings beingj of course, thereby 
 reduced one-sixth. Some years afterwards, a lady induced 
 her, but with great difficulty, to accept a seamstress's 
 remuneration for a second day, which she was to spend 
 in the rest her health seemed to require. To rest, how- 
 ever, while her fellow- creatures could be benefited by her 
 exertions, was not in Sarah Martin's nature ; and, though 
 refraining from her visits to the prison, she gave religious 
 instruction to a class of children, until it was otherwise 
 provided by the establishment of Sunday-schools in her 
 parish. She then obtained permission to teach the work- 
 house children, and continued her lessons even after a 
 schoolmaster was appointed, he being one of the paupers. 
 More decisive evidence of improvement could not, perhaps, 
 
300 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 be furnished, than in the contrast between the highly- 
 instructed teachers generally found in our workhouse 
 schools at the present day, and the individuals who were 
 at that time considered fit for the post. The first chosen 
 at Great Yarmouth was an aged inmate, who did not long 
 survive. His successor, selected because he was the only 
 person competent to teach reading, had brought himself 
 to poverty by drunkenness. After a few years, he, too, 
 died, and was followed in his office by an old sailor, a 
 notorious thief ; and upon his death a drunkard was again 
 installed. Over even these degraded men, however, Sarah 
 Martin's beneficent influence prevailed ; and she had the 
 deep gratification of beholding the death-beds of two, who 
 had been most abandoned, soothed by a religious faith, 
 which her exhortations and her example had created. 
 
 In 1838, due provision having been made for the 
 instruction of the children, she withdrew from the work- 
 house, and, giving up dressmaking entirely, began to 
 teach at the gaol every day. Some time before this change, 
 she had inherited a property worth about £ 12 a-year; 
 this was now to be her whole income. The friends and 
 admirers her benevolent labours had won, pressedrt^pon 
 her money and clothes; but these she would rarery accept, 
 or, if accepted, unless a promise to the contrary were" ex- 
 tracted, she applied them' to the use of those she served, 
 and not her own. Mr. Worship, recently Mayor of Yar- 
 mouth, relates an incident characteristic of her self-denying 
 spirit : — " The first and only time of my being under the 
 same roof with her was in this way. I was in a book- 
 seller's shop reading a newspaper, when a young woman 
 entered and was asked to take a chair. Presently some 
 of the dirtiest outsides of paper that ever I saw were put 
 before her. Many words passed, and a bargain was made. 
 
SARAH MARTIN. 301 
 
 My attention became fixed on the buyer's pale and earnest 
 countenance. She took a good quantity of this dirty 
 paper, laid down a shilling, and left the shop. I made 
 inquir}^ and learnt that the woman was Sarah Martin, 
 that she was a poor seamstress, that the paper had been 
 bought out of her savings, and was to be applied by 
 herself in personal instruction to the prisoners in the gaol. 
 I was almost a boy at the time, but the scene is well fixed 
 in my memory. A few days afterwards, I was in the 
 shop again, and heard more about the good woman, and 
 left a piece of money, which I desired should be given to 
 her. I was informed that she would not take it, but I 
 ordered that more paper for her money should be given, 
 and so my trifle would find its way to her after my own 
 fashion. I mention this, because it proves that at that 
 time she refused assistance." 
 
 Upon paper of this description, and pasteboard, she 
 wrote copies and texts for the use of her workhouse and 
 prison pupils, often remaining up after her day's toil, 
 until past midnight, to prepare them. One of her placards 
 lies before us — the fifth of the ten sets of questions, with 
 answers, from Scripture, which she mentions in her auto- 
 biography,* and one of several interesting relics preserved 
 with reverent care by Mrs. Glasspoole. It is methodi- 
 cally drawn up, and written in a large clear hand. 
 Originally far from white, the placard has become 
 brown with age and use, but its construction and repair 
 still show signs of Sarah's skill and neatness. 
 
 Miss Martin commenced her labours in the gaol many 
 
 years before the introduction of the improved system 
 
 which now prevails in a large number of our prisons, 
 
 though unhappily not in all. Then, she says, " the doors 
 
 * ' Life of Sarah Martin.' — Raligious Tract Society. 
 
302 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 were simply locked upon the prisoners, when their time 
 was given to gaming, swearing, playing, fighting, and bad 
 language, and their visitors admitted from without with 
 but little restriction . . . . At that period, and up to 1838, 
 the prisoners were frequently infested with vermin, and 
 skin disease." Bravery, self-devotion, and indomitable 
 perseverance were needed to carry her through the scenes 
 she witnessed, and to win for her the marvellous influence 
 she acquired over even the most depraved. The confidence 
 she inspired in the sincerity of her purpose — and here 
 lay the secret of her success — is shown by her having, 
 during the whole period of her ministrations, met with 
 insult but from one prisoner ; though for some years, it is 
 grievous to state, a turnkey, by his bad character and 
 conduct, greatly distressed her. 
 
 She was not long in perceiving the necessity of giving 
 religious instruction to the inmates of the gaol, of sepa- 
 rating the juvenile from the old offenders, of providing 
 schooling for all, and what was more important still, 
 regular employment, by which, besides removing the fatal 
 snare of idleness, means could be afforded to the prisoner 
 of earning a small sum for his support when discharged ; 
 and the vital importance of not abandoning him at this 
 critical moment of his career also impressed itself early 
 upon her mind. These topics were then gradually 
 attracting attention ; but while, year after year, the 
 various methods by which such improvements might be 
 accomplished were under discussion outside our gaols, 
 Sarah Martin had applied herself single-handed to the 
 task, and at Yarmouth had actually wrought those 
 ameliorations in prison discipline which public men were 
 baffled in their efforts to achieve. 
 
 Heading the Scriptures during a short visit was what 
 
 
SARAH MARTIN. 303 
 
 she first attempted. Finding that there was no Divine 
 worship or observance of Sunday in the gaol, her next 
 step was to organise services for that day ; the duties of 
 both reader and preacher soon devolving upon' herself. 
 Of the afternoon service she was relieved in 1831, but 
 she continued it in the morning until her last illness 
 obliged her, in 1843, to give it up. Captain "Williams, 
 the inspector of prisons, who speaks of her in terms of 
 the highest appreciation in several reports, writes in the 
 second of these, — "Sunday, November 29 th, 1835 ; attended 
 Divine service in the prison ; . . . a female, resident in 
 the town, officiated ; her voice was exceedingly melodious, 
 her delivery emphatic, and her enunciation exceedingly 
 distinct. The service was the Liturgy of the Church of 
 England ; two psalms were sung by the whole of the 
 prisoners, and extremely well, much better than I have 
 frequently heard in our best appointed churches. A 
 written discourse, of her own composition, was read by 
 her ; it was of a purely moral tendency, involving no 
 doctrinal points, and admirably suited to the hearers." 
 
 The occupation Sarah Martin was able to procure for 
 the prisoners consisted, at first, chiefly in straw hat- 
 making, sewing patchwork, and in otherwise converting 
 to some useful purpose, under her direction, the scraps 
 of various material she could beg from her friends. 
 Subsequently she employed them in making clothes. By 
 her efforts to provide them with work when they left 
 gaol, her regularity in visiting them from time to time, 
 at their homes or in service, her warm sympathy 
 when, after absence, they sought her on their return to 
 Yarmouth, and her ready help in every emergency, she 
 effected all that the Prisoners' Aid Societies of later days 
 strive to accomplish, and saved many a repentant sinner 
 from relapsing into crime. 
 
304 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 As her labours became known to her townsmen, aid 
 was liberally proffered, and when in a form to be rendered 
 serviceable to the objects of her care, she did not now hesi- 
 tate to accept it. As she continued, however, personally to 
 administer, after herself collecting, all the contributions 
 intrusted to her, and always k^pt a minute account of 
 their expenditure, the help she received greatly increased 
 her labour and responsibilities. For many years certain 
 members of the Corporation had been desirous of reward- 
 ing her services, but this she had strenuously opposed, 
 expressing apprehension lest, if her labours at the gaol lost 
 their voluntary character, they would likewise lose their 
 efficiency. When urged at least to make the trial, she 
 answered, " To try the experiment, which might injure 
 the thing I live and breathe for, seems like applying a 
 knife to your child's throat to know if it will cut." But 
 at length the question was decided for her. It was felt 
 to be necessary that she should receive some remuneration, 
 and she was told, in the kindest manner, that if the Cor- 
 poration permitted her still to visit the prison she must 
 submit to their terms. She was to receive £12 a-year, 
 she was informed ; and, conscious that the arrangement 
 had been made wholly without her knowledge or con- 
 currence, she resisted no longer, but gratefully accepted 
 what was kindly proffered. Had the sum fixed been more 
 considerable she probably would have either still oj>posed 
 the gift, or would have received it with pain. This was 
 in 1841. 
 
 Never robust, her health was now failing, but it was 
 not until 1843 that she was afflicted with serious illness. 
 It was her first attack since she began to visit the prison 
 in 1819 ; it was the last from which she suffered. In 
 the autumn of that year she died. Her malady was a very 
 
SARAH MARTIN. 30-5 
 
 painful one, and at times respite from intense agony could 
 be obtained only by the use of opiates ; but her piety 
 and cheerfulness, and thoughtful care for others, never 
 forsook her. Upon the death of her grandmother, in 1826, 
 she had removed to lodgings at Yarmouth, where she had 
 since dwelt, occupying two small rooms. Shortly before 
 her death she asked Mrs. Glasspoole to select some quiet 
 spot in Yarmouth churchyard for her grave ; but her kind 
 friend replied, that she should be laid beside her grand- 
 mother in her native village, and a bright smile of 
 acquiescence proved the happiness derived from this 
 assurance. 
 
 The few articles of value she possessed she left to her 
 intimate friends, accompanying her bequests with touching 
 expressions of affection and gratitude. The residue of her 
 property, £172, she bequeathed to the British and Foreign 
 Bible Society. There were no debts to diminish the 
 amount. The friend upon whom it devolved to settle 
 affairs after her death inquired, "Are there no little 
 bills '? " but was answered, " Little bills, madam ! Oh, no ; 
 I suppose Miss Martin never had such a thing as a bill." 
 
 When, at a subsequent period, the parish church at 
 Yarmouth was being restored, the incumbent, Mr. Mac- 
 kenzie, suggested that advantage should be taken of the 
 opportunity to raise a memorial window to Sarah Martin. 
 Mr. Worship, who was minister's churchwarden, exerted 
 himself in. the matter, and about £100* was collected. 
 The late Bishop of Norwich, Dr. Stanley, was one of 
 those invited to subscribe, and, as he gave his contribu- 
 tion, he remarked, " I would canonise Sarah Martin, if 
 I could." 
 
 A large two-light window at the west end of the 
 north aisle was the result of this effort. The pictorial 
 
 u 
 
306 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 compartments are as follows, beginning at the top of 
 each light : — 
 
 1. Charge to Peter: "Feed my 
 
 sheep." 
 3. Good Samaritan. 
 
 2. Peter released from prison, 
 4. Death of Dorcas. 
 
 
 The inscription (at the foot of the two lights) is in 
 these words : 
 
 " To the honour of God. This window was set up in memory 
 of one of His faithful servants, Sarah Martin. She was born June, 
 a.d. mdccxci., and died August, a.d. mdcccxliii." 
 
 In Sarah Martin's manner and appearance there was 
 nothing striking. She was about the middle height, with 
 dark brown hair, and features which, though regular, had 
 been deprived of beauty by small-pox. Her teeth were 
 particularly good, and the expression of her mouth was 
 pleasing. Upon her dress she spent very little; two 
 friends supplied her with her better garments, and these 
 were usually offered long before she herself believed them 
 to be needed. Though belonging by birth and education 
 to an humble rank, there was no trace of vulgarity in her 
 demeanour. As her character became known, she was 
 received as an honoured guest in the upper circles of 
 society, and the simplicity and self-possession of her man- 
 ners made her as much at ease among her associates there 
 as when surrounded by the wretched inmates of the gaol, or 
 at home in her poor lodging, where, for want of means to 
 pay for service, almost every domestic office was performed 
 by her own hands. 
 
 Though we have confined our notice to her labours in 
 the workhouse and the prison, it must not be supposed 
 that these exhausted her efforts ; indeed, she deprecated 
 magnifying the special object of our aspirations into such 
 
SARAH MARTIN. 307 
 
 importance as to cast other duties into the shade. For 
 two years and a half she taught, in an evening school, a 
 large class of young women employed in factories, only 
 relinquishing the task when compelled by failing health ; 
 while " of her occasional incidental charities no record 
 could be made ; but numberless instances of her unslum- 
 bering benevolence, never weary whilst there was a want 
 to supply, or a woe to assuage, will long live in the 
 
 memory of her friends There was nothing 
 
 eccentric in her character or modes of acting. That she 
 was singularly good was her only singularity. There was 
 no attempt at effect in any of her arrangements, no desire 
 to thrust herself on public notice, and no effort to evade 
 it. If she did good and named it not, it was not that she 
 sought to do good ' by stealth,' nor do we think she ever 
 ' blushed to find it fame.' Probably it never occurred to 
 her what would be thought of it at all. She herself 
 regarded her labours a& so many privileges, for which she 
 had a right to be grateful, rather than a claim to be com- 
 mended ; and, casting aside every idea of merit, she went 
 on her way rejoicing, utterly regardless of the praise of 
 any but of Him whose favour is better than life." * 
 
 * Memoir preceding the ' Poetical Remains.' 
 
 r 
 
308 
 
 SIR ROWLAND HILL, K.C.B., F.R.S. 
 
 Rowland Hill, the third son of Thomas "Wright Hill, 
 and Sarah his wife, was born at Kidderminster on the 
 3rd of December, 1795. In the year 1802 his father 
 succeeded to a boarding-school at Birmingham, and here 
 Rowland was educated. 
 
 To an observant eye indications of his future distinc- 
 tion were not wanting, even in his childhood; although 
 his progress in the usual acquirements of our early 
 years was somewhat retarded by debility and precarious 
 health. He ever displayed a perseverance not to be 
 wearied in the pursuit of any object on which he had 
 fixed his mind; bearing delay and disappointment with 
 calmness, but never remitting his endeavours, or relin- 
 quishing his hopes. As his_ body grew stronger, and his 
 mind developed itself^ he evinced abundant fertility of 
 resource for the attainment of his ends. His faculty of 
 mechanical invention was great and precocious ; and his 
 love for its exercise urged him to the acquirement of 
 proficiency in the use of tools. Thus he promptly sur- 
 rounded himself with apparatus for experiments in 
 natural philosophy, not fabricated according to pattern, 
 but adapted by his ingenuity to his particular purposes, 
 and modified by his limited command of pocket-money. 
 Among these constructions was one with which, by the 
 aid of his electrical machine, made by himself at twelve 
 years old, he produced a vivid representation of the 
 heavenly bodies of the southern sky — invisible to us in 
 the north — stars, nebulse, and all, and caused them to rise 
 and set. He became expert in drawing, and at thirteen 
 
SIR ROWLAND HILL. 309 
 
 gained the first prize for excellence in that art against the 
 youth of all England. These prizes were offered by Sir 
 Richard Phillips, the publisher of the " School Magazine/' 
 a work long since extinct. For the mathematics he had 
 a very remarkable gift, but he was debarred from availing 
 himself of it in its full amplitude by the demands upon 
 his" time, which arose from his becoming a teacher in his 
 fathers school, at an age when boys are generally mere 
 learners. Teaching, however, as a means of learning, is 
 not to be disparaged. Yet restricted as his application 
 to the mathematics thus became, he carried his inventive 
 powers into that region also ; and often surprised and 
 gratified his father by striking out original and improved 
 methods of solving problems of no slight difficulty. He 
 made himself an adept in land surveying. Possessing 
 only a small theodolite, he hit upon a way of using it 
 which endowed it with the accuracy of Borda's Repeating 
 Circle ; and, so employing his instrument, he was enabled 
 to effect a somewhat extensive trigonometrical survey of 
 Birmingham and its neighbourhood, on a base line very 
 carefully measured, according to the plan (a little changed) 
 pursued by Colonel Mudge on Hounslow Heath — the 
 first step towards the great trigonometrical survey of the 
 British Islands, which has been in progress now for more 
 than half a century. After he had grown up he felt that 
 he had too much neglected demonstrative geometry, and, 
 availing himself of a Christmas vacation, he went through 
 the whole of Simpson's Euclid in a month, demonstrating 
 every proposition in each book to his father, as if he had 
 been a schoolboy. 
 
 His faculty of invention in what may be called 
 physical mechanics, was accompanied by a similar talent 
 for moral mechanism, He devised and framed a consti- 
 
310 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 tution for his father's school, which, through the inter- 
 vention of a committee of the pupils chosen by the 
 whole body, aided greatly in developing their powers 
 of self-government. The little community in 1819 (the 
 year following its constitutional epoch) was moved 
 into the country, a short distance from Birmingham ; 
 and established in a large and convenient house 
 built for the purpose, from Rowland's designs. From 
 this site, which was called Hazelwood, the school was 
 eventually removed to Bruce Castle, at Tottenham, near 
 London. 
 
 In 1833 Mr. Rowland Hill, finding his place in the 
 school well supplied by a younger brother, turned his 
 attention to other pursuits ; the profession of a teacher 
 never having been one to which he felt any strong voca- 
 tion, notwithstanding his success in it. 
 
 Shortly afterwards he associated himself with a small 
 number of gentlemen desirous of reducing to practice a 
 scheme of colonisation then lately promulgated by Mr. 
 Edward Gibbon Wakefield The principle of Mr. Wake- 
 field's plan was to sell the wild lands of any new colony 
 at a price sufficient to bring over labourers for their 
 culture. 
 
 Painful attention had been drawn about that time to 
 the sufferings which had followed an attempt (well nigh a 
 total failure) to plant the settlement now called Western 
 Australia. Mr. Peel, a cousin of Sir Robert Peel, ob- 
 tained the grant of a vast tract of land in that province ; 
 other individuals also received similar donations. They 
 took with them at their own expense hired labourers and 
 artisans, and stock of all kinds required to commence 
 operations in a desert. But the men imbibed the error 
 of their masters in considering the land of an uninhabited 
 
SIR ROWLAND HILL. 311 
 
 country as of itself property ; whereas it only becomes 
 property when duly combined with labour sufficient to 
 make it productive. The faithless and ignorant followers 
 of the capitalists who had obtained the grants, finding 
 their masters had grasped at the ownership of the soil with 
 almost insane rapacity, cast about for the means of them- 
 selves becoming landholders, and determined to pass beyond 
 the boundaries of the territory already parcelled out by the 
 Crown, and then "squat," as it is called, outside ; that is, 
 take possession, without purchase or grant, of the unoccu- 
 pied lands which they saw about them. And so eager 
 were they to enjoy their usurped dignity of landlords, that 
 they refused to stay and give their assistance in housing 
 the cargoes of the vessels in which they and the other 
 colonists came from England. The consequence was that 
 a great amount of property was destroyed : furniture, 
 agricultural implements, books, instruments of music — 
 whatever had been brought from home, whether as neces- 
 saries or for purposes less essential — were left upon the 
 strand, and fell a prey to the elements, or to the attacks 
 of noxious insects. After a time some of these dishonest 
 and misguided people returned, their companions having 
 died of hunger and cold. The survivors were ravenous, 
 and demanded food and shelter from their employers with 
 threats and reproaches ; forgetting, or affecting to forget, 
 that their own unfaithfulness had deprived their masters 
 of the power to help them. 
 
 Mr. Wakefield's plan, it was hoped, would lead to 
 better results. The association which Mr. Rowland Hill 
 joined, obtained in the year 1834 an Act of Parliament 
 for establishing the colony of South Australia, now con- 
 taining a population of 120,000. By the end of the 
 year 1859, nearly two million acres of wild land had 
 
312 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 been sold, producing to the Government about c£ 2 ,£00,000. 
 Of this quantity at least 250,000 acres are under culti- 
 vation. The colony has an annual revenue approaching 
 .£500,000. It imported last year (1859) to the amount 
 of £1,500,000, principally from the mother country • 
 and exported to the amount of £1,500,000 in wheat, 
 flour, wool, copper ores, smelted copper, and other pro- 
 duce. It enjoys the advantages of improved harbours, 
 of steamboats, railways, and telegraphs ; its capital, 
 Adelaide, is adorned with handsome buildings; the shops 
 are lighted by gas, and it will shortly be furnished with 
 the more important accommodation of an ample supply of 
 water, stored in a vast reservoir already constructed 
 amidst distant hills. The welfare of the colony is fostered 
 and secured by a free constitution ; while for instruction 
 and training, both spiritual and secular, churches, schools, 
 and literary institutions have sprung up in abundance 
 throughout all the settled districts of the province. 
 
 South Australia was at first managed by royal com- 
 missioners, who appointed Mr. Rowland Hill their secre- 
 tary ; and, of course, upon him fell the principal charge 
 of framing the rules for conducting the colonial affairs, 
 regulating the emigration of labourers, &c. ; and, in short, 
 of carrying into action the whole scheme, so far as it 
 could be guided from the seat of Government at home. 
 Such of the emigrants as were selected for transit at the 
 expense of the colony were, upon their landing, at liberty 
 to hire themselves to any employers who chose to engage 
 them \ indeed, they were free to work for others or them- 
 selves, according to their own option or their resources. 
 The success of the experiment has completely verified the 
 soundness of Mr. Wakefield's principle, and has led to 
 its adoption in other Australian colonies. No small por- 
 
 
SIR ROWLAND HILL. 313 
 
 tion of that success may, with perfect justice to the other 
 labourers in the cause, be claimed for Rowland Hill. 
 
 Although the formation of a new settlement demanded 
 great exertion on the part of all engaged in the enter- 
 prise, and especially on that of the secretary, yet the busi- 
 ness of colonisation did not absorb his whole time and 
 1 attention. He was a member of the committee of the 
 celebrated Society, founded in 1826 by Lord Brougham, 
 for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. The rapidly- 
 extending demand for cheap literature — of which he be- 
 came cognisant while taking part in the labours of the 
 society — suggested to his mind the pressing need for some 
 apparatus which should outstrip the printing-machine of 
 that day ; and, ultimately, he attempted himself to supply 
 the desideratum. He invented a machine, the charac- 
 teristic of which was, that it printed by the revolution of 
 a cylinder armed with type, under which the paper was 
 passed in long sheets. Having, with the assistance of his 
 brother, Mr. Edwin Hill (the inventor of the envelope 
 folding-machine), perfected this invention, he took out a 
 patent for it ; but his machine, although it printed with 
 great velocity, and although the impressions were beauti- 
 fully executed, yet never came into use. The obstacle 
 which stood in its way was, that it involved a change in 
 the body of the type ; its face, or that portion which 
 receives the ink and forms the letters, remaining as 
 before. The cost of such an outlay, combined, perhaps, 
 with some small changes of habit, which the new type 
 would force upon the compositors, prevented the pro- 
 prietors of large establishments, in which alone such an 
 apparatus would be needful, from embarking in the 
 enterprise ; and thus Mr. Rowland Hill lost much time 
 and no small amount of capital. But the constantly 
 
314 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 increasing urgency for rapid printing is gradually bring- 
 ing type-armed cylinders into use, probably containing 
 improvements on Mr. Hill's invention, but essentially 
 founded on his principle ; although it is possible that the 
 improvers may be ignorant of his specification, so fre- 
 quently does it happen that the .same invention is made 
 by several persons, each unconscious that he has a 
 competitor. 
 
 Mr. Rowland Hill specified his invention in August, 
 1835, and immediately drew the attention of the great 
 printers of the metropolis to his new machine. A short 
 experience convinced him that he had better turn his 
 thoughts in some other direction. In no wise cast down 
 by his disappointment, he abandoned physical mechanics, 
 and turned his mind to what we have called moral me- 
 chanism. From childhood he had often heard his father 
 express an opinion that the rate of postage was too high, 
 not only for the comfort and convenience of the people at 
 large, but for the productiveness of the revenue. This 
 remark was repeated so frequently as to produce a per- 
 manent impression on the minds of his children, and the 
 evils of dear postage were for years a topic of conversation 
 in the family circle. Rowland Hill now determined to 
 enter upon a laborious investigation of the subject, and to 
 make himself, so far as opportunity served, fully acquainted 
 with that intricate and multifarious department — the 
 Post-office\ Seeing that he had never — either in town or 
 village — penetrated more deeply into postal mysteries 
 than could be accomplished by a momentary glance 
 through the half-opened little door which suffices for a 
 somewhat uncomfortable communication between earnest 
 and, perhaps, loquacious inquirers without and the reticent 
 postmaster within, this was to inaugurate a labour of 
 
SIR ROWLAND HILL. 315 
 
 Herculean magnitude. The hope of obtaining informa- 
 tion by personal interviews with the possessors of postal 
 knowledge was but faint. Whether by nature or art, or 
 by the force of the esprit de corps, taciturnity seems in 
 all countries to be a virtue largely shed upon the order of 
 which we are speaking. We have carried on our re- 
 searches in various parts of Europe, but we never met 
 with a postmaster or his deputy who did not remind us 
 of the verses repeatedly uttered by the prophetess in 
 Gray's " Descent of Odin" :— 
 
 " Now my weary lips I close, 
 Leave me, leave me to repose." 
 
 Fortunately, however, the means of knowledge were 
 not confined to oral communications. For many years 
 the Post-office had been a favourite subject for inquiry 
 through parliamentary committees and royal commis- 
 sions ; and thus a pile of blue books had been brought 
 into existence, in which a huge mass of facts, embedded in 
 a still more enormous heap of rubbish, was to be obtained 
 by the due application of labour and skill. Mattock in 
 hand, Rowland Hill set himself to work, and, in a few 
 months, had not only won the ore, but had smelted it, 
 and cast away the dross. Still, on some points, he was in 
 doubt. He put his queries into writing, and, through the 
 introduction of friends who had influence at St. Martin s- 
 le-G-rand, he succeeded in obtaining answers to some of 
 his questions ; but the amount of information he was able 
 to procure was neither abundant nor accurate. For in- 
 stance, it was very desirable, and, indeed, essential, that 
 he should ascertain within certain limits the number of 
 chargeable letters passing through the British post-offices 
 in each year; but no satisfactory information on this head 
 
316 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 could be obtained. Employing the best data lie was able, 
 in the first instance, to procure, he computed the annual 
 number at about eighty-eight millions and a half; but, 
 after some time, having succeeded in obtaining additional 
 information, he revised his estimate, which he finally 
 settled at seventy-nine millions and a half. About the 
 same time, the Postmaster- General of that day gravely 
 stated in the House of tords that the true number was 
 only forty- two or forty-three millions ! Towards the close 
 of the year 1837, the House of Commons appointed a 
 committee to investigate the merits of penny postage. 
 In the course of the inquiry, which continued throughout 
 the session of 1838, the gentlemen of the Post-office sub- 
 mitted an amended estimate of the. number of letters, 
 which brought it up to fifty-eight millions. These figures 
 being sifted, were soon shown to be fallacious, and the 
 Post-office again amended their return, bringing up the 
 amount to nearly sixty-seven millions, and finally ad- 
 vanced it to seventy millions. But the committee, after 
 a most laborious and searching scrutiny, conducted with 
 untiring zeal, and with a degree of ability which cannot be 
 too highly appreciated, arrived at the conclusion that the 
 real number passing through the British post-offices was 
 seventy-seven millions and a half. Eventually, the num- 
 ber was fixed by the Post-office itself at seventy-six 
 millions. 
 
 "We have a little disturbed the chronology of our nar- 
 rative, in our attempt to give the reader a glimpse of 
 the difficulties which encompassed Rowland Hill in his 
 task of acquiring that thorough insight into the state of 
 the Post-office which he justly felt to be necessary before 
 he could presume to frame a new system. His prelimi- 
 nary labour being brought to a close, his mind fastened 
 
SIR ROWLAND HILL. 317 
 
 on the leading facts upon which his plan is founded. 
 The cost of a letter to the Post-office he saw was divisible 
 into three branches. First, that of receiving the letter, 
 and preparing it for its journey, which, under the old 
 regime, was troublesome enough, as the postage varied 
 first in proportion to the distance it had to travel ; and, 
 again, according as it was composed of one, two, or three 
 sheets of paper, each item of charge being exorbitant. 
 For instance, a letter from London to Edinburgh, if 
 single, was rated at Is. ljd. ; if double, at 2s. 3d. ; and, if 
 treble, at 3s. 4^d ; any — the minutest — inclosure being 
 treated as an additional sheet. The duty of taxing 
 letters, or writing upon each of them, its postage thus 
 became a complicated transaction, occupying much time, 
 and employing the labour of many clerks. This, and other 
 duties, which we will not stop to specify, comprised the first 
 of the three branches of expense which each letter imposed 
 on the office. The second was the cost of transit from post- 
 office to post-office. And this expense, even for so great 
 a distance as from London to Edinburgh, proved, upon 
 careful examination, to be no more than the ninth part of 
 a farthing ! The third branch was that of delivering the 
 letter and receiving the postage — letters being, for the 
 most part, sent away unpaid. Rowland Hill saw that, 
 although a considerable reduction of postage might and 
 ought to be made, even if the change rested there, yet, 
 that if he could cheapen the cost to the Post-office, the 
 reduction to the public could be carried very much 
 further, without entailing on the revenue any ultimate 
 loss of serious amount. He therefore addressed himself 
 to the simplification of the various processes. If, instead 
 of charging according to the number of sheets or scraps 
 of paper, a weight should be fixed, below which a letter, 
 
318 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 whatever might be its contents, should only bear a single 
 charge, much trouble to the office would be spared, while 
 an unjust mode of taxation would be abolished. For, 
 certainly, a double letter did not impose double cost, nor 
 a treble letter threefold cost upon the Post-office. But, 
 if the alteration had rested there, a great source of labour 
 to the office would have remained ; because postage would 
 still have been augmented upon each letter in proportion 
 to the distance it had to travel. In the absence of know- 
 ledge as to the very minute cost of mere transit, such an 
 arrangement would appear just ; or, to place the question 
 in another light, it would seem unjust to charge as much 
 for delivering a letter at the distance of a mile from the 
 office at which it was posted, as for delivering a letter at 
 Edinburgh transmitted from London. But when Bow- 
 land Hill had, by his investigation, ascertained that the 
 difference between the cost of transit in the one instance 
 and the other was an insignificant fraction of a farthing, 
 it became obvious that it was a nearer approximation to 
 perfect justice to pass over this petty inequality than to 
 tax it even to the amount of the smallest coin of the 
 realm. With regard to the third hea$, all that could be 
 done for lessening the cost attendant on delivering the 
 letters from house to house, was to devise some plan of 
 prepayment which should be acceptable to the public (so 
 long accustomed to throw the cost of correspondence on 
 the receiver of a letter, instead of the sender), and which, 
 at the same time, should not transfer the task of collec- 
 tion to the receiving-office, while it relieved the letter- 
 carriers attached to the distributing-office ; otherwise, 
 comparatively little would have been gained by the 
 change. This led to the proposal for prepayment by 
 stamped la,bels, whereby the Post-office is altogether 
 
SIR ROWLAND HILL. 
 
 319 
 
 relieved from the duty of collecting postage. Thus, 
 one by one, were the impediments all removed to the 
 accomplishment of a grand object — uniformity of postage 
 throughout the British Isles. 
 
 The facile attainment of this end being thus demon- 
 strated, ifc became easy to reduce the rate of postage 
 to an enormous extent. And such reduction giving, as it 
 did, so large a boon to commerce and the correspondence 
 of all classes, particularly that which stands lowest in the 
 social scale, reconciled every one to the changes of habit 
 and usage, which would have presented a series of obstacles 
 to the adoption of the scheme, had the advantages been 
 less manifest or of inferior magnitude. 
 
 The discovery of Mr. Rowland Hill that uniformity 
 is the necessary condition of extreme cheapness, and that 
 when the various items of cost to the Post-office connected 
 with receiving, transmitting, and delivering a letter were 
 thoroughly analysed, none of them presented any in- 
 superable difficulty to the establishment of a uniform 
 rate, appears, now it is made, to be extremely simple. 
 But it is exactly that union of importance with sim- 
 plicity which is the true, stamp of discoveries destined 
 to take their place in the highest rank of mental 
 achievements. 
 
 A writer in the Edinburgh Review of January, 1840, 
 states : — 
 
 "We are justified in saying that for the great mass of our 
 countrymen the Post-office does not exist ; for the higher and 
 middle classes sink into nothing if measured' by numbers against 
 those below them ; and it is only necessary to compare the income 
 of a labouring man with his pressing wants, to see that it is idle to 
 suppose he will apply his little surplus to the expensive enjoyment 
 of post letters. It would be easy to fill pages with instances of 
 pain and misery which result from there being no post-office for 
 
320 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 the poor. "We shall confine ourselves, however, to a few pregnant 
 facts drawn from the evidence [before the Postage Committee of 
 the House of Commons, in 1837-8]. 
 
 "Mr. Emery, Deputy Lieutenant for Somersetshire, relates 
 several facts which prove at once the desire and the inability of the 
 poor to correspond. c A person, 5 says he, f in my parish had a 
 letter from a granddaughter in London, and she could not take 
 up the letter for want of means. She was a pauper, receiving 
 "2s. 6d. a-week ; and if you will allow me, I will repeat herown 
 words, for I have taken them down :— She told the post-office keeper 
 that she must wait until she received the money from the relieving 
 officer. She could never spare enough, and at last a lady gave 
 her a shilling to get the letter ; but the letter had been returned 
 to London by the post-mistress. She never had the letter since. 5 
 The post-master of Banwell said to me : e My father kept the 
 post-office many years ; he is lately dead ; he used to trust poor 
 people very often with letters; they generally could not pay 
 the whole charge. He told me — indeed, I know — he lost many 
 pounds by letting poor people have their letters. We sometimes 
 return them to London, in consequence of the inability of the 
 persons to whom they are addressed raising the postage. We fre- 
 quently keep them for weeks, and, when we know the parties, let 
 them have them, taking the chance of getting our money. One 
 poor woman once offered my sister a silver spoon to keep until she 
 could raise the money. My sister did not take the spoon, and the 
 woman came with the amount in a day or two, and took up the 
 letter. It came from her husband, who was confined for debt in 
 prison ; she had six children, and was very badly off. 5 The post- 
 master of Conglesbury, a large village containing 1,500 or 1,600 
 inhabitants, said, c I have sometimes had complaints made of the 
 high rate of postage ; the price of a letter is a great tax upon poor 
 people. I sent one charged Sd. to a poor labouring man, about a 
 week ago; it came from his daughter. He first refused taking it, 
 saying it would take "a loaf of bread from his other children; but 
 after hesitating a little time, he paid the money and opened the 
 letter. I seldom return letters of this kind to Bristol, because I 
 let the poor people have them, and take the chance of being paid. 
 Sometimes I lose t'he postage, but generally the poor people pay 
 me by degrees. 5 " 
 
SIR ROWLAND HILL. 521 
 
 Iii the year 1837 Rowland Hill published his plan, 
 which he explained to his countrymen in a brief but 
 lucid pamphlet. The splendid project overran the three 
 kingdoms like wildfire. Party spirit, then strong and 
 bitter, was for a time silenced. It stood rebuked in the 
 presence of this noble benefaction. But neither the 
 Ministry nor the Opposition were its friends. It was 
 an object too large for the tiny grasp of party ; and it 
 would inevitably have fallen to the ground, had not the 
 unanimous voice of the people called on Parliament to 
 register its edict that Penny Postage should become the 
 law of the land. And promptly was that voice obeyed. 
 
 Here, then, our narrative draws to its close. The 
 development of a system of cheap and uniform postage 
 within our own shores is part of the history of England. 
 Yet our shores do not form the limits of its extension. 
 It has spread itself over the whole civilised world ; and 
 its progress belongs to the history of civilisation itself. 
 
 The labours, the discouragements, and, we must add, the 
 persecutions of its author, were, however, far from ceasing 
 on the adoption of these plans. The "Whig Government 
 which was in office in 1839 — the epoch of the Penny 
 Postage Act — although they had yielded to his project 
 with reluctance, treated Mr. Hill with justice, gave him 
 their confidence, brought him into the Treasury, and aided 
 him, in perfect good faith, to work out his measure. After 
 a time, however, they were displaced ; and their Tory 
 substitutes, while acknowledging the great ability with 
 which its author had carried his scheme into execution, 
 discovered that he had done his work, and that his 
 services were no longer wanted ! Therefore, amidst a 
 profusion of compliments, they bowed him into the street, 
 and shut the door of office in his face. They left him, it 
 
 v 
 
322 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 is true, the consolation which the famous old Spartan, 
 Pedaretus, drew from the loss of his election into "The 
 three hundred" — he was glad, he said, to find that his 
 country possessed three hundred men better than himself. 
 Rowland Hill had even greater cause for self-gratulation 
 than Pedaretus. Among the thousands of appointments 
 which compose our civil service, no vacancy could be 
 found which an abler and more deserving public servant 
 than the author of Penny Postage was not ready to fill ! 
 Happy England, so redundant in merit ; but, alas ! we 
 must add, ignorant or ungrateful country, not to know, or 
 knowing, not to avow its wonderful good fortune ! Yet 
 such was the benighted state of the English mind, that 
 the treatment of Rowland Hill, which the perspicacity, 
 moral and mental, of our rulers, adjudged to be right and 
 expedient, was condemned, nevertheless, by all but that 
 sagacious few, as flagrant ingratitude towards him, and a 
 contempt of the public interest as regarded the nation. 
 And they ended by taking the matter into their own 
 hands. To restore him to office was beyond their power ; 
 but they would not suffer him to depart from Downing- 
 street empty-handed ; on the contrary, by a munificent 
 subscription of fifteen thousand pounds, they at once re- 
 warded their benefactor, and marked his dismissal with a 
 stigma never to be effaced. 
 
 Thrust out of office, Rowland Hill sought a new 
 occupation, sustained in his bitter disappointment by the 
 hope that another Government would permit him to com- 
 plete the plan he had been only able to commence. He 
 became a director of the Brighton Railway Company, 
 and was soon chosen their chairman. Under his super- 
 intendence the business of that body was conducted with 
 a precision to which no other railway company had then 
 
SIR ROWLAND HILL. 323 
 
 attained. As usual, his habit of persevering and minute 
 investigation accomplished its objects. .For instance, 
 finding that the signals employed along the lines to com- 
 municate with the engine-driver were sometimes mistaken 
 by the men, he placed himself on the engine to journey to 
 and fro between London and Brighton, until he had dis- 
 covered the cause which led to error, and soon found that 
 it lay in an arrangement by which the same signal did 
 not uniformly express the same meaning ; so that the 
 mind of the driver, while engaged in his anxious duties, 
 w~as taxed, and sometimes his memory confounded, by 
 these absurd inconsistencies. 
 
 In 1846, when the Whigs returned to power, they 
 invited Rowland Hill to take an appointment in the 
 Post-office. Resigning his chairmanship, he accepted their 
 invitation, and in a short time the public had cause to 
 know that the futility of the reasons given for his dis- 
 missal was not less manifest than the meanness which 
 could devise and publish them. Since his return to office 
 improvement has thickened upon improvement ; and 
 measures are yet in progress for still further ameliorations 
 of our postal system. These we cannot find room even to 
 enumerate. One change, however, is so striking in its 
 effects, and can be told in so few words, that we will not 
 omit to specify it. We all know the benefits resulting 
 from the establishment of the Money-Order Office. In 
 1847 Mr. Rowland Hill found its arrangements in a state 
 of complication which most unnecessarily swelled its cost ; 
 its expenses exceeding its income by an annually increasing 
 sum, which then amounted to £1 0,000 a-year. He took 
 it in hand. It quickly became self-supporting, then 
 profitable-, and it now clears a net produce of £29,115 per 
 annum, making a difference to the State of £39,115. But, 
 
 v 2 
 
324 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 as every year is more profitable than its predecessor, it is 
 to be expected that even this sum will hereafter be far 
 exceeded. This great saving is attributable solely to the 
 simplification of the arrangements commenced by Mr. 
 Rowland Hill, but extended by his youngest brother, Mr. 
 Frederick Hill, who, in 1851, mainly with a view of re- 
 lieving Rowland of part of his excessive toil, resigned his 
 office of Inspector of Prisons, and undertook the far more 
 laborious duties of Assistant- Secretary to the Post-office. 
 Nor is this the only assistance which Rowland Hill has 
 received from his family. It maybe doubted if he would 
 have found it possible to bear up for so many years under 
 his never-ending labours, but for the cheerful and intelli- 
 gent aid rendered by his wife, whenever the nature of his 
 task admitted of her co-operation, and but for her watch- 
 ful care of his health, at all times easily deranged. 
 
 When Mr. Rowland Hill returned to office in 1846, he 
 was made secretary to the Postmaster- General, and was, 
 in effect, joint-secretary with Colonel Maberly ; but, in 
 1854, the latter gentleman having become one of the 
 Commissioners of Audit, Lord Aberdeen's Government 
 appointed Mr. Rowland Hill secretary to the Post-office. 
 It is but common justice to state that the Conservative 
 Ministries which have come into office since his restora- 
 tion have shown, by their treatment of the author of Penny 
 Postage, that they had no sympathy with their Tory 
 predecessors who dismissed him. In the present year, 
 1860, the Queen has been graciously pleased to invest 
 Mr. Rowland Hill with the dignity of Knight Com- 
 mander of the Order of the Bath. 
 
 We conclude this imperfect sketch with a few figures, 
 which will prove, better than words, the vast and rapid 
 development of Penny Postage. 
 
SIR ROWLAND HILL. 325 
 
 A comparison of the year 1839 (the one immediately 
 preceding the adoption of Penny Postage) with the year 
 1859, shows the following results : — 
 
 An increase in the number of post-offices from 4,028 
 to 11,412. 
 
 An increase of chargeable letters from 76 millions to 
 545 millions, or between seven and eight fold ! 
 
 An increase of gross revenue from £2,390,763, to 
 £3,299,825. , 
 
 A decrease of net revenue from £1,633,764 to 
 £1,445,872. 
 
 An increase in the number of money orders issued 
 from 188,921 to 6,969,108, or more than thirty-six fold. 
 
 An increase in the amount of money orders issued 
 from £313,124 to £13,250,930, or more than forty-two 
 fold ! 
 
 During the twenty years immediately preceding the 
 proposal of the Penny Postage plan, the revenue, whether 
 gross or net, had not increased at all ; in truth, it had 
 slightly decreased. 
 
 That such vast changes could be effected without 
 giving rise to controversies, both within and without the 
 walls of the Post-office, was hardly to be expected. 
 Matters still in dispute do not fall within the range of 
 this work ; but we confidently predict that, whenever 
 their merits are duly investigated, the results will add to 
 the reputation of the subject of this memoir. 
 
326 
 
 SIR JAMSETJEE JEJEEBHOY, BART. 
 
 [The following narrative is chiefly drawn from a "Memorandum of 
 the Life and Public Charities of Sir Jamsetjee Jejeebhoy," by 
 Mr. Williamson Ramsay, printed for private circulation in 1855. 
 To the courtesy of Mr. Ramsay, whose long residence in a high 
 official capacity at Bombay, and intimate acquaintance with the 
 subject of our memoir, give his " Memorandum " great value, 
 we are deeply indebted for his permission thus to use it.] 
 
 The vast population of the East Indies, amounting to 
 180,000,000 souls, consists chiefly of Mohammedans and 
 Hindoos. Differing essentially, however, from these, 
 another native race is met with in various parts of the 
 continent. In the provinces its numbers are compara- 
 tively insignificant, but at Bombay they form one-fifth of 
 the inhabitants. These are the Parsees, the ancient in- 
 habitants of Persia. Driven thence by the Arabs in the 
 eighth century, after a desperate struggle, an episode in 
 which affords the subject of Moore's poem of "The Fire 
 Worshippers," they took refuge in India, where they have 
 ever since remained — a mild and industrious people, 
 devoted chiefly to commercial pursuits. 
 
 The imputation of worshipping fire and the other 
 elements is repudiated by the Parsees. Their religion, 
 purified by Zoroaster — who is believed to have lived about 
 five centuries before Christ — from the corruptions it had 
 in the course of ages acquired, teaches the worship of " one 
 God, the creator, ruler, and preserver of the universe ; 
 without form, and invisible;" the adoration of any other 
 object being held to be " blasphemous." Regarding God 
 as "an immense light, from which all glory, bounty, and 
 goodness flow," the " Parsee, while engaged in prayer, is 
 
SIR JAMSETJEE JEJEEBHOY. ' 327 
 
 directed to stand before fire, or to direct his face towards 
 the sun, as the most proper symbols of the Almighty." 
 Superstitious errors have, however, crept into their re- 
 ligious observances, and it is probable that ignorant 
 members of the sect address their prayers to the symbols, 
 instead of to the Being symbolised. To Zoroaster are 
 attributed the Zend Avasta, or Scriptures of the Parsees, 
 throughout which are enjoined "purity of speech, purity 
 of action, and purity of thought." So far are these pre- 
 cepts obeyed, that at the present day the remnant of his 
 followers who yet survive in Persia, are noted for their 
 probity and moral lives, while in India the Parsees occupy 
 an equally honourable position in public estimation.' 55 ' 
 
 To this people belonged Jamsetjee Jejeebhoy, born at 
 Bombay, on July 15th, 1783, of parents who, though poor, 
 shared the high character of their race. He lost both within 
 a year, and became an orphan before he was sixteen. 
 His only possessions are said to have been two old wine 
 bottles — objects of value, however, in India. A consider- 
 able trade is carried on at the Presidency towns in these 
 articles, and, entering it, he gained the name of Bottle- 
 wallah (bottle dealer), which abided by him in the native 
 bazaars to his dying day. 
 
 In accordance with the custom of very early marriage 
 adopted by the Parsees from the Hindoos, but which, 
 happily, they are now relinquishing, Jamsetjee had been 
 betrothed in infancy ; and some years before his parents' 
 death his father-in-law had caused him to be instructed 
 in accounts. He was besides just able to read and write 
 the language in use among commercial men at Bombay ; 
 and afterwards, at school, he acquired a slight knowledge 
 
 *'The Parsees: their History, Manners, Customs, and Religion.' By 
 Dowsabhoy Framjee. London : Smith, Elder, and Co. 1858. 
 
328 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 of English. This is believed to have been the extent of 
 his educational advantages. 
 
 His bottle-selling so far prospered that he was soon 
 master of 120 rupees, or ,£12, and with this sum he went 
 on a commercial enterprise to Calcutta ; whence a year 
 later he returned, and, with his capital now increased to 
 <£1 8, he commenced trading with China. He must already 
 have established confidence in his integrity, as he was 
 able to obtain a considerable loan, which, in addition to 
 funds procured by his father-in-law, placed a large sum 
 at his command. He made several prosperous voyages to 
 China ; but when returning for the fourth time, and laden 
 with profit, the vessel was seized by the French, with 
 whom the British were then at war, and he was stripped 
 of all he possessed. He was carried prisoner, having 
 narrowly escaped shipwreck on the way, to the Cape of 
 Good Hope, then a neutral station in the hands of the 
 Dutch. After some detention, he obtained, by the kind- 
 ness of the English consul, and of some ladies, about to 
 proceed to Calcutta, a passage to that city. Arrived 
 there, he returned a fervent thanksgiving to Providence 
 for his safety, and in due time reached Bombay, to the 
 delight of his friends, who had given him up for lost. 
 
 After one more voyage to China he abandoned that 
 course of trading, and, settling at Bombay, directed thence 
 commercial enterprises in every part of the world. He 
 appears always to have carried on business in conjunction 
 with partners ; and their errors had sometimes to be 
 corrected by his prudence and sagacity, which never 
 failed to win back success. " It is to a strict and very 
 orderly system, carried into effect in every department 
 under his own immediate superintendence, and with little 
 subordinate help, that much of this success is to be 
 
SIR JAMSETJEE JEJEEBHOY. 329 
 
 attributed ; but it can have been no less owing to the 
 confidence universally reposed in his uprightness, clear- 
 sightedness, liberality, and skill." " The manner in 
 which Sir Jamsetjee Jejeebhoy acquired his wealth," said 
 Lord Elphinstone, when presiding, in 1856, at a meeting 
 of all sects and parties in Bombay, summoned to vote the 
 erection of a statue of the distinguished Parsee, "was hardly 
 less honourable to himself and beneficial to the community 
 than the mode in which he dispenses it. By strict integ- 
 rity, by industry, and punctuality in all his commercial 
 transactions, he has contributed to raise the character of 
 the Bombay merchants in the most distant markets. 
 His whole life is a practical illustration of the truth of 
 the homely proverb, that ' Honesty is the best policy ; ' 
 and in this respect and in others he will leave behind him 
 an example, which I trust will long be held up for imita- 
 tion among us." 
 
 It is remarkable that, notwithstanding the vast extent 
 of his commercial transactions, Jamsetjee was never 
 engaged in a law-suit on his own account. Frequently, 
 however, his arbitration was sought by friends and neigh- 
 bours in their differences. When money could be usefully 
 applied, he freely spent it, and his disbursements to pro- 
 cure the amicable settlement of such disputes amounted 
 to some thousands of pounds. Never, however, did he 
 permit his name to be used for questionable purposes. A 
 pernicious system, known as " khutput," has prevailed 
 among the natives in India, by which individuals of influ- 
 ence, residing at the seat of Government, have been 
 accustomed — often in consideration of pecuniary bribes 
 or other advantages — unduly to promote applications to 
 the British authorities from persons at a distance. The 
 magnitude of the evil drew forth an inquiry from Govern- 
 
330 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 ment into its nature and extent. In his official report 
 upon its operation in his district of Scinde, Mr. Bartle 
 Frere, after noting the prevalence of the evil, says, " It 
 is not necessary to particularise individuals, but I may be 
 allowed to mention one very striking exception in Sir 
 Jamsetjee Jejeebhoy, who, with every inducement from 
 his great influence, and the exceeding benevolence of his 
 character, never, as far as my experience goes, lends him- 
 self to the dangerous practice of patronising parties en- 
 gaged in obtaining redress of their grievances, real or 
 supposed, by indirect influence, apart from the substantial 
 merits of their case.'' 
 
 So early as 1822 Jamsetjee Jejeebhoy's acts of charity 
 had begun to attract public attention ; and, afterwards, 
 scarcely a year elapsed unmarked by some proof of his 
 munificence. A sincere and zealous adherent to the 
 Parsee faith, the welfare of his fellow-worshippers has 
 been duly provided for by his generosity. But the in- 
 terests of humanity at large he has equally regarded ; 
 and thus, in the long list of his benefactions, amid gifts 
 to found educational institutions, and to build and endow 
 places of worship for his own people, we find vast sums 
 expended upon a hospital for the sufferers of every country 
 and religion ; upon roads, bridges, water- works — whose 
 importance, in an Indian climate, cannot be over-estimated 
 — and dhurmsallas (houses of refuge for poor travellers), 
 from which the public indiscriminately would benefit; 
 and upon all classes of schools. His donations for special 
 objects were equally catholic and abundant. To the 
 Wellington Testimonial, to the Relief Fund for the Scotch 
 and Irish in the famine years, and to the Patriotic Fund, 
 he sent munificent contributions ; while to the lesser 
 local institutions and funds he subscribed sometimes 
 hundreds, sometimes thousands of pounds. 
 
SIR JAMSETJEE JEJEEBHOY. 331 
 
 Of his private charities, known to be very large, no 
 particular record, however, can be obtained ; but among 
 those of a personal nature some have transpired, which 
 are very characteristic of the man. 
 
 One of his early associates in business, whose in- 
 discretions greatly imperilled the safety of the firm, and, 
 indeed, necessitated a dissolution of partnership, without, 
 however, destroying their friendship, was Motichund 
 Amichund, a Hindoo. By the aid of his Parsee friend, 
 his affairs again became prosperous, and subsequently, in 
 accordance with the Hindoo tenderness for animal life, he 
 expended £10,000 in building at Bombay an asylum for 
 maimed and aged animals, which, like many others in 
 India, is known as the " Pinjra-pol." After the death of 
 Motichund, solely from regard for his memory and pre- 
 dilections — for extraordinary care of the lower animals 
 forms no part of the Parsee faith — Jamsetjee devoted 
 .£7,160 to this institution, employed in such a manner as 
 to secure its efficient maintenance in future ; and further, 
 bestowed £300 for a similar object in Guzerat. By an 
 endowment in the same province for the benefit of poor 
 Hindoos, he gave another proof of his affectionate remem- 
 brance of his friend. 
 
 Again. A wealthy and respected fellow-townsman, a 
 native Boman Catholic, having incurred severe reverses 
 of fortune, Jamsetjee assisted his family from time to 
 time with such liberality, that the whole sum bestowed 
 amounted to £10,000. 
 
 The total cost of all his known benefactions surpasses 
 £300,000 ; but the value of money in India so far 
 exceeds that which it possesses here, that this sum is 
 equivalent to more than a million sterling in this country. 
 
 In 1842 the benefits bestowed by Jamsetjee Jejeebhoy 
 
332 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 upon his fellow-subjects, and his devotion to the interests 
 of the British nation, being represented to the Queen by 
 the late Sir James Carnac, who had just retired from the 
 government of Bombay, she recognised his services by 
 conferring upon him the honour of knighthood. Subse- 
 quently he was created a baronet; and, in 1843, Her 
 Majesty sent him a medal in gold, bearing on one side 
 her portrait surrounded by diamonds, on the other this 
 inscription, "Sir Jamsetjee Jejeebhoy, Bart., from the 
 British Government, in honour of his munificence and 
 his patriotism." 
 
 In all his charitable undertakings his wife, Lady 
 Jamsetjee, cordially sympathised. Indeed, the bridge 
 and causeway, which he built at a cost of more than 
 £1 8,000, at Mahim — a most important work, uniting 
 Bombay with the Island of Salsette — was erected in her » 
 name, and it is said she gave her jewels towards defraying 
 the expense.* To the endowment of £5,000, for the 
 maintenance of one of the dhurmsallas built by him, 
 and which he placed in the hands of the " District Bene- 
 volent Society of Bombay," Lady Jamsetjee added a 
 donation of <£2,000 \ and the following instance of his 
 enlightened liberality is rendered additionally interesting 
 by her co-operation: — 
 
 When Sir Jamsetjee received his knighthood, which, 
 like his baronetcy, was the first ever conferred upon an 
 Asiatic — at least, since the days of Saladin — the Parsees 
 of Bombay presented him with a testimonial of their gra- 
 tification at this mark of honour. It consisted of a large 
 sum of money, raised by subscription among themselves, 
 which, in the address accompanying it, they designated 
 
 * ' Small Beginnings ; or, the Way to Get On.' London : Hogg and 
 Son. 1860. 
 
SIK JAMSETJEE JEJEEBHOY. 333 
 
 " The Sir Jamsetjee Jejeebhoy Translation Fund," to be 
 employed in translating useful books into the Guzerati 
 language for circulation, either gratis or at a very low 
 price, among the Parsees. In his answer he projected 
 the Benevolent Institution for the education and main- 
 tenance of poor Parsees, which now bears his name. 
 " Nothing," he said, " could please me more than the 
 purposes to which you propose to devote the funds that 
 have been subscribed. I shall ever wish my name to be 
 connected with every endeavour to diffuse knowledge 
 amongst our people ; and the surest way to incite them 
 to elevate and improve themselves, to fit them to appre- 
 ciate the blessings of the Government under which they 
 live, and to deserve those honours which have now, for 
 the first time, been extended to India, is to spread far 
 and wide amongst them, gratuitously, or in a cheap form, 
 translations into our own language of the works of the 
 most approved authors. Connected with this subject is a 
 scheme that I have long contemplated, for relieving 
 the distresses of the Parsee poor of Bombay, Surat, 
 and its neighbourhood. You know full well the state of 
 misery in which many of our people are living, and hope- 
 less ignorance in which their children are permitted to 
 grow up. My object is to create a fund, the interest of 
 which shall be applied towards relieving the indigent of 
 our peojDle, and the education of their children ; and I 
 propose to invest the sum of 300,000 rupees [X 3 0,0 00] in 
 the public securities, and to place it at the disposal of 
 trustees who, with the interest, shall carry out the object 
 I have mentioned ; and this trust, I hope, you will take 
 under your care." 
 
 Referring to Sir Jamsetjee' s reply, " They who were 
 present as I was," said Mr. H. L. Anderson, secretary 
 to Government, " when he gave in one gift to the 
 
334 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 sacred cause of education the sum of £ 30,000, will 
 not easily forget the sensation created by that an- 
 nouncement, made with so much calmness and sim- 
 plicity." To this already munificent gift, Sir Jamsetjee 
 added fifteen shares in the Bank of Bengal, and Lady 
 Jamsetjee gave five. A further contribution of thirty- 
 five shares from the Parsee punchayet, or council, 
 raised the amount of this supplementary donation to 
 nearly £40,000.* 
 
 Three of the schools comprehended in the noble in- 
 stitution thus originated are for girls. Until recently 
 female education among the Parsees was utterly neglected, 
 and to the enlightened and lamented Mr! Framjee 
 Cowasjee the merit is due of having first attempted its 
 improvement. His example was followed by several 
 gentlemen of his race, among whom none were more 
 zealous in the important enterprise than Sir Jamsetjee. 
 Though strictly conforming to the reserved habits and 
 customs of the Parsees — to the extent of declining to dine 
 with the Chief Justice of the Presidency — he was, we are 
 informed by Colonel Burrowes, who was personally 
 acquainted with him, "more free from prejudice than 
 any other Oriental he had ever known." This superiority 
 was conspicuous in his disregard of the feeling among his 
 race which strongly opposes giving instruction to the 
 female sex. " He secured for the education of his only 
 daughter the services of an English lady as governess ; 
 and the example of a single Parsee lady in a family of 
 such wealth and influence, instructed in many branches of 
 an Englishwoman's education, and yet retaining all that 
 among her own people is valued and respected in the 
 mother of a family, had an influence which, though 
 unseen, was probably more effectual with the native 
 * ' The Parsees.' 
 
SIR JAMSETJEE JEJEEBHOY. 335 
 
 community at large than all the arguments of those who 
 have since advocated the cause of female education." 
 
 A School of Design, erected and endowed at a cost of 
 £10,000, is one of Sir Jamsetjee's recent gifts to the city 
 of his birth. By the Hospital he has bestowed upon it, 
 and the large sums he has given in support of the Medical 
 College, he has conferred benefits far exceeding the appa- 
 rent value of these gifts. " It must be remembered that 
 medical science had but a feeble existence in India, and 
 in its surgical department could hardly be said to exist 
 at all ; that the pursuit of anatomical knowledge was 
 repugnant to all native ideas ; and that, consequently, 
 there was neither public medical relief for the indigent, 
 nor scientific aid for the wealthy, nor (still worse) any 
 probability of such a co-operation of private persons as 
 would permanently remedy the evil. The difficulty, and 
 it was an appalling one, was overcome by the intelligent 
 munificence of a single man." 
 
 The hospital bears the following inscription : — 
 
 This Edifice 
 Was erected as a Testimonial of devoted loyalty to 
 
 the young Queen of the British Isles, 
 
 And of unmingled respect for the just and paternal 
 
 British Government in India ; 
 
 Also in affectionate and patriotic solicitude for the welfare 
 
 of the poor classes of all races among his countrymen, 
 
 The British subjects of Bombay ; 
 
 by 
 SIR JAMSETJEE JEJEEBHOY, KNIGHT, 
 
 The first native of India honoured with British knighthood ; 
 
 Who thus hopes to perform a pleasing duty 
 
 towards his Country, his Government, and his People ; 
 
 And in solemn remembrance of blessings bestowed, 
 
 To present this, 
 
 his offering of Religious Gratitude, to 
 
 Almighty God, 
 
 The Father in Heaven 
 
 of the Christian, the Hindoo, the Mohammedan, and the Parsee, 
 
 With humble earnest prayer 
 
 for His continued care and blessing 
 
 upon his Children, his Family, his Tribe, and his Country. 
 
336 
 
 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 The Parsees have always been conspicuous for their 
 devotion to the British Crown ; but it may not be unjust 
 in great part to attribute to the example and influence of 
 Sir Jamsetjee the marked loyalty and high appreciation 
 of the blessings of British rule displayed by them 
 during the recent rebellion, when they invariably ranged 
 themselves on the side of their European fellow- subjects, 
 and strove by every means in their power to strengthen 
 the resources of Government. 
 
 Sir Jamsetjee had, besides his daughter already men- 
 tioned, three sons and many grandchildren, and, as 
 the patriarchal custom prevails among the Parsees of 
 their descendants continuing, even after marriage, to form 
 one family in the paternal mansion, he might often be 
 seen surrounded by these little ones ; sometimes driving 
 in his spacious open carriage with half-a-dozen beside him, 
 and many more following in other carriages. " He has 
 >een fortunate," says Mr. Ramsay, "in his family; his 
 eldest son, Cursetjee Jamsetjee, and his brothers, are 
 highly intelligent and valuable members of society, and 
 as justices of the peace, members of British juries, and 
 public- spirited promoters of native education and useful 
 institutions, Cursetjee and his brothers are ever ready to 
 second the patriotic views of their revered father." 
 
 Sir Jamsetjee' s countenance, judging from a portrait 
 prefixed to Mr. Bamsay's "Memorandum," was full of 
 intelligence, dignity, and benevolence, while his dark eyes 
 were remarkable for their brilliancy. A writer in the 
 "Merchant's Magazine," of New York, for December, 
 1852, who visited him in 1850, says: "He bears the 
 marks of age in the whiteness of his hair, and the slight 
 tremulousness of his hand ; but his expression is quick, 
 and his manner kind and genial, for his heart is warm, 
 
SIR JAMSETJEE JEJEEBHOY. 337 
 
 and his mind is as clear as ever. He lives surrounded 
 with all that should accompany old age, honoured by his 
 people, loved by his family and friends, and with the 
 delightful consciousness of the success of his efforts to 
 alleviate misery and to increase happiness, He has 
 acquired the glory which is best worth having — the glory 
 of good deeds." 
 
 Towards the close of his life Sir Jamsetjee lessened 
 his commercial engagements ; but in his works of bene- 
 volence he never slackened to the last- He died on 
 April 14th, 1859. 
 
 w 
 
338 
 
 LADY NOEL BYRO& 
 
 We do not intend, in this brief memoir, to enter into the 
 narrative of the great and melancholy episode in Lady- 
 Byron's history — her marriage. With womanly dignity, 
 she endured in silence the cruel charges brought against 
 her, that the sacred privacy of domestic life might remain 
 inviolate ; and it is not for us to penetrate where it was 
 her desire none should enter. We seek only to show, that 
 though, when yet scarcely past girlhood, the brightness of 
 her existence was for ever clouded by the darkest woe 
 that can afflict humanity — the consciousness of guilt alone 
 excepted — she never permitted her sorrow to lessen her 
 efforts for the welfare of others, but, "sitting in the 
 shade, sent a multitude into the sunshine, and patiently 
 wore away the last two- thirds of her life in making others 
 happier than she could be herself." * 
 
 Anna Isabella, the only child of Sir Ralph and Lady 
 Milbank, was born in 1792, and spent her childhood 
 chiefly at their estate at Seaham, in the county of Durham. 
 She retained such love for the place that, even late in life, 
 a pebble from its beach was an acceptable present — a fact 
 truly indicating the strength of her attachments. Her 
 father, descended from Ralph Milbank, cupbearer to Mary, 
 Queen of Scots, was the sixth possessor of a baronetcy 
 conferred in 1661. He had married the daughter of Sir 
 Edward Noel, subsequently Lord Wentworth, and through 
 her Lady Byron was in the line of succession to great 
 wealth, as well as to the barony of Wentworth. The 
 
 * Daily News, May 26ih, 1860. 
 
LADY NOEL BYRON. 339 
 
 property, however, did not come into her possession until 
 after her marriage, while the barony devolved upon her 
 only in 1856. When about eighteen, Miss Milbank 
 accompanied her father and mother to London, and 
 mixed much in fashionable society, where she was greatly 
 admired. Lord Byron became her suitor, but was refused ; 
 the refusal, however, being accompanied by the expression 
 of her hope that their friendship would remain undis- 
 turbed, and a correspondence ensued. At this period 
 he wrote of her in his Diary : — 
 
 " She is a very superior woman, and very little spoiled, which 
 is strange in an heiress — a girl of twenty — a peeress, that is to be* 
 in her own right — an only child, and a savante, who has always 
 had her own way. She is a poetess, a mathematician, a metaphy- 
 sician, and yet withal very kind, generous, and gentle, with very 
 little pretension. Any other head would be turned with half her 
 acquisitions, and a tenth of her advantages." 
 
 He made a second offer, which, inspired now by a 
 passionate affection for him, she. accepted. They were 
 married in January, 1814; early in 1816 they parted, — 
 as it proved, never to meet again. Two months later 
 he wrote to a friend, " The fault was not — no, nor even 
 the misfortune — in my choice (unless in choosing at 
 all). For I do not believe — and I ■ must say it, in the 
 very dregs of all this bitter business — that there ever 
 was a better, or even a brighter, a kinder, or a more 
 amiable and agreeable being than Lady B. I never had, 
 nor can have, any reproach to make her, while with me. 
 Where there is blame it belongs to myself, and, if I can- 
 not redeem it, I must bear it." Unhappily, he after- 
 wards both spoke and wrote in another vein. 
 
 Meanwhile, Lady Byron had re-entered her fathers 
 family. The education of her only child, Ada, occupied 
 
340 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 her first attention, and her spare time she devoted to 
 works of philanthropy. She established schools of various 
 descriptions. In one of these — the Training School, 
 at Ealing — the lamented John Gent Brooks, late Do- 
 mestic Missionary at Birmingham, received, through her 
 benevolence, the advanced instruction which perfected his 
 great natwal gifts for the pious labours he performed 
 with pre-eminent success; and it was in the same institu- 
 tion that William and Ellen Kraft, two of the many 
 fugitive slaves who have received Lady Byron's generous 
 aid, found a home, and the means of usefully employing the 
 distinguished moral and intellectual endowments which 
 had rendered their bondage doubly intolerable. " Among 
 the multitude of ways in which she did good, the chief 
 and the best was by instituting and encouraging popular 
 education. We hear at present (and glad we are to hear 
 it) much about the teaching of 'common things;' but 
 years before such a process was publicly discussed, Lady 
 Byron's schools were turning the children of the poorest 
 into agriculturists, artisans, sempstresses, and good poor 
 men's wives. She spent her income (such as her husband 
 left of it) in fostering every sound educational scheme, 
 and every germ of noble science and useful art, as well as 
 in easing solitary hearts, and making many a desert place 
 cheerful with the secret streams of her bounty. . . . 
 No one could be more thoroughly liberal towards other 
 people's persuasions, while duly valuing her own. 'No 
 one could be further from pedantry, while eagerly and 
 industriously inquiring after all new science and litera- 
 ture. . . . Her life was devoted, after family claims, 
 to the silent promotion of public morality ... of 
 human, and especially of domestic, happiness, wherever 
 she could confer her blessings. We may ask how £ 
 
LADY NOEL BYRON. 341 
 
 much-tried woman's life could be better spent, and, per- 
 haps, how many women so tried could so have spent their 
 lives 1 What domestic life might -and should have been 
 to her, all must feel who saw her devotion to her daughter, 
 not only in youth, but in the slow dying of that one 
 child; and, even more still, in her labours and her 
 sacrifices for her grand-children."* 
 
 For many years before her death her health was such 
 tjiat her continuing to live was a wonder to her physicians ; 
 but her sympathies with her fellow-creatures in their suf- 
 ferings never flagged under her own. Her last public 
 act, which became known not many days before her death, 
 was a donation of <£40 to the Garibaldi Fund. 
 
 Lady Byron deeply sympathised with the small band 
 of earnest labourers for social progress who, in 18.51, held 
 a conference at Birmingham upon the subject of juvenile 
 delinquency, whence arose the present merciful system of 
 dealing with young offenders. Upon that occasion she 
 offered a prize of £200 for the best essay upon Preventive 
 and Reformatory Schools ; and the two best essays sent 
 in being adjudged to be equal in merit, she added another 
 <£100 to the sum, and divided the whole between the two 
 authors. 
 
 In the year 1854, on the passing of that gracious and 
 benign Act through the Legislature, which authorises the 
 detention of juvenile criminals in reformatories instead of 
 in prisons, Lady Byron purchased Red Lpdge — a large, old 
 mansion at Bristol — and placed it at the disposal of her 
 valued friend and fellow-labourer in good works, Mary 
 Carpenter, to be used as a reformatory for girls. 
 
 • A tablet erected there since her death, and bearing 
 the following inscription, records the deed : — 
 * Daily New*. 
 
342 OUR EXEMPLARS. 
 
 SACRED 
 
 TO THE MEMORY OF 
 
 ANNE ISABELLA NOEL, DOWAGER LADY BYRON, 
 
 Who, ever devoting the many talents intrusted to her 
 
 to the service of her Master, 
 
 Purchased these Premises, September, 1854, 
 
 For the purpose of Rescuing Young Girls from Sin and Misery, 
 
 and bringing them back to the Paths of Holiness. ' 
 
 She was Born May 17th, 1792, 
 and Departed this Life May 16th, 1860. 
 
 u $nifyf\xl unto ^zufy:' 
 
 Truly did Lord Brougham speak of her, at Glasgow, as 
 a person whose heart, and soul, and means were entirely 
 devoted to good works. 
 
 Lady Byron was rather under the middle size, active 
 in her movements, notwithstanding the feebleness of ill 
 health, and in her manners united the polished ease of 
 high rank with that cordial sincerity which, happily, is 
 peculiar to no class. Her countenance beamed with in-r y 
 tellect and benevolence ; and, even in her later years, she 
 retained, in the delicacy of her complexion, her soft, blue 
 eyes, and noble brow of the purest classic form, much of 
 the striking beauty of her youth. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 Printed by Petter and Galpin, La Belle Sauvage Yard, Ludgate Hill, E.G. 
 

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