Part 19

His father had died shortly after consenting to his remaining in London; and his eldest brother had since followed. But his mother yet lived at Long Calderwood, of which he had become proprietor on his brother’s decease. Nor had romance altogether disdained to alight on the unpretending mansion and its homely grounds. A cabinet-maker, fresh from the regions of Cockaigne, had settled at Glasgow, and ventured to pay his addresses to one of the sisters. He was the reverse of disagreeable, and “Miss Jenny” was quite content to be his. Her relatives, indeed, conceived that a match would compromise their gentility, and protested against its being consummated; but this “penniless lass wi’ a lang pedigree” resolved, at all risks, to secure herself against the possibility of becoming an old maid, took the bit between her teeth, and insisted on having her own way. Then, questionless, preparations would be made for a gay wedding, and numerous guests would be bidden. Smugglers would supply foreign wine and brandy. The gun, the farmyard, and the pigeon-house, would furnish the table; friends and kinsfolk would congregate from all directions; damsels, with the prospect of a bridal ceremony and a dance, would willingly submit to the inconvenience of passing the preceding night six in a room; while men combining something of the haughty spirit of the Master of Ravenswood with a moiety of the pedantry displayed by the Baron of Bradwardine, would in hay-lofts luxuriate in such sleep as is not always vouchsafed to kings reclining under gilded canopies. Another event of greater importance had occurred. Hunter’s brother John, the youngest of the brood, after attempting to work for some time at his brother-in-law’s trade, despaired of success in that path of life, and returned home. He soon became tired of remaining idle, and joining Dr. Hunter in London, threw all the ardor and energy of his great mind into surgery, and ultimately arrived at the highest honors of his profession. He had been three years in the English metropolis, and won considerable reputation at the time of Dr. Hunter’s visit to Scotland. As for the latter, he was now full of hope and courage; and his engagements were such that he could only stay for a few weeks. But he gave instructions for repairing and improving the house of Long Calderwood, and for purchasing any adjoining lands that might happen to be offered for sale. One day, while riding in a flat part of the country with his old comrade, Cullen, the young Glasgow professor, pointing out to his former colleague his birth-place, said, “How conspicuous Long Calderwood appears to-day!”

“By St. Andrew!” exclaimed Hunter with unwonted energy, emphasis, and enthusiasm, “if I live I shall make it still more conspicuous!”

There was, in this frank utterance, something of that glowing romance which generally animates and stimulates great men; and the future fully proved that this confidence in his own power and determination, however high, was not in any degree misplaced. When he was held in esteem by his sovereign, when his name and talents were known and respected in every part of Europe, when the scientific societies of foreign capitals were proudly conferring honors upon him, and when he was in possession of wealth and enviable reputation, he could reflect on this frank expression of sentiment without any of the regret experienced by those who indulge in such aspirations without having calculated the toil and labor necessary for their realization.

In 1756 Hunter became one of the physicians to the British Lying-in Hospital; in the two succeeding years, a Licentiate of the Royal College of Physicians, and a Member of the Medical Society. In 1762 he published his “Medical Commentaries,” written in a correct and spirited style. Having been consulted by Queen Charlotte in the latter year, he was subsequently nominated Physician Extraordinary to her Majesty. He now found it necessary to admit his pupil, Mr. Hewson, who had for some time assisted at his lectures, as his associate. On the institution of the Royal Academy, the king appointed Hunter to the Professorship of Anatomy. In fulfilling the duties thus devolving upon him, he exhibited boundless zeal and singular mental vigor, as also ingenious resource in adapting his science to purposes of painting and sculpture.

When Goldsmith was, on the same occasion, graciously honored with the Professorship of Ancient History, he complained to his familiar friends, with some show of reason, that honors bestowed upon one in his circumstances were too like ruffles given to a man who had not a shirt to his back. With Hunter the case was widely different. By this time he was a rich man; and――what was of more consequence――actuated by the laudable ambition of making his wealth minister to the progress of the profession, in whose ranks the greater part of it had been earned. Accordingly, having set apart a sum sufficient to insure independence to his declining years, he proposed to expend a large amount of his hoarded treasure in the erection of an anatomical theatre, and to found a perpetual professorship; provided the Government would grant a proper site for a building. His request in this respect, being made to George Grenville, then prime minister, was not, of course, complied with. He was not, however, to be baffled in his purpose; and on failing to obtain the co-operation of Government, though Lord Shelburne handsomely offered to head a subscription list with a thousand pounds, he purchased a piece of ground in Great Windmill Street, where, at his own expense, he built an amphitheatre and museum, as well as a large and commodious mansion, to which he removed in 1770. The museum was at first furnished with the numerous specimens of human and comparative anatomy collected by him during previous years; but his efforts and expenditure did not cease at this point. He gradually added to the stores by purchasing various collections of note, particularly that of Dr. Fothergill, who directed in his will that it should be offered to Hunter considerably below its estimated value. Besides, he procured a number of fossils, a splendid cabinet of rare coins and medals, and a magnificent library, well stocked with Greek and Latin volumes. By and by his medical friends felt honored in contributing presents; and the institution became known and valued throughout Europe.

In 1775 Dr. Hunter published his most famous work, “The History of the Human Gravid Uterus,” illustrated by large and splendid plates, and dedicated to his majesty. Several additions in matters of detail were made to the book from his papers, after the author had gone to his long rest. In 1780 he was elected an Associate of the Royal Medical Society of Paris. On the death of Dr. Fothergill he was chosen President of the Society of Physicians, and soon after a Foreign Associate of the French Academy of Sciences, as well as of the Royal Medical Society of Paris.

As a lecturer his powers remained unimpaired; and though in stature rather under the middle size, he was well formed, and engaging enough in person and deportment to set off to advantage discourses composed with clearness and illustrated to admiration. He continued to deliver them till within a few months of his death. In his last years he was attended by his nephew. This was Mr. Baillie, son of a Scotch clergyman, brother of the celebrated poetess of that name, and afterward a distinguished physician. The youth had studied at Glasgow and Oxford, and he now came to be drilled into excellence by his experienced kinsman. He was to this end employed in arranging preparations for the lectures, conducting the demonstrations, and superintending the operations of the pupils. He subsequently undertook the continuance of his uncle’s lectures, in conjunction with Mr. Cruickshank; but, ere long, his extensive practice compelled him to relinquish the duty. Dr. Hunter having, contrary to the advice and solicitation of his friends, risen from bed during an attack of the gout to give a lecture, was seized with paralysis, and felt that his end was approaching; nor did he shrink from the presence of the great despoiler, whose ravages he had so often checked. His resignation was singular. “If I had strength to hold a pen, I would write how easy and pleasant a thing it is to die,” he said, turning to Dr. Combe, shortly before breathing his last, which he did on the 30th of March, 1783. Within a week he was interred in the vault of St. James’s Church, Westminster.

The museum, on which he had expended so large an amount, was bequeathed to the University of Glasgow, its use for thirty years being reserved in favor of Dr. Baillie.

To his young and rising relative he left by will his patrimonial estate; but as it was evident that, in this settlement, he had been actuated by the annoyance consequent on an irritating dispute between himself and his illustrious brother, in regard to the merit of a discovery which both claimed, Baillie declined availing himself of the circumstance. He therefore, with a touching and becoming generosity, abandoned the property to his uncle, in whose mind it was associated with a hundred endearing recollections――kith, and kin, and home――the freaks of boyhood, and the vague aspirations of a clouded and cheerless youth, destined to be so nobly redeemed by the exertion and industry of a useful manhood.

BLACK.

On the afternoon of an autumnal day in the last quarter of the eighteenth century, two gentlemen, who had considerably passed the prime of life, and looked like confirmed, but highly-respectable bachelors, as indeed they were, might have been observed to leave the vicinity of the South Bridge of Edinburgh at a leisurely pace. They had just succeeded in negotiating the hire of a room, where, with several of their literary friends, they proposed to hold a convivial meeting once during every week of the winter that was coming on. In pretty light spirits, from having proved themselves men of the world by bringing this important matter to a satisfactory conclusion, they were――it might be――discussing and denouncing the ridiculous prejudice, as they believed it to be, which prevented their countrymen making use of snails as an ordinary article of food, and vowing that they would, ere long set an example in this respect which should have the effect of divesting the public mind of such an absurd delusion; though it must be confessed, that when they did attempt to execute this bold intention they suddenly discovered that their appetites had taken an unceremonious flight. Each of these personages was distinguished by amiability of character, and utter unconsciousness of the guile and wickedness that prevailed around him. Their studies and pursuits were somewhat similar; and though frequently taking opposite views of debated questions, they were ever bosom friends. But in dress and manner they presented a striking contrast. One wore on his slender but active person garments plain to affectation, and might have easily passed for a member of the Society of Friends but for his cocked hat. He conversed with force and animation, always displaying much original information; but the accents that came from his lips, which parted while listening, were undiluted Scotch; and his bearing was so remarkably simple, that it was necessary to mark the thin, intellectual face, the high, thoughtful forehead, and the keen, penetrating eye, before being aware that he had “stuff” in him, or was more than an ordinary citizen. The other was of a different stamp. He wore a sort of academic dress; but it had received such careful and harmonious additions, as proved that he was by no means indifferent to external decorations and the propriety of costume. His aspect was comely and prepossessing; his manner was correct and graceful; he was evidently a person of elegant tastes and no inconsiderable refinement; and he used a musical voice to speak good English, with a punctilious accuracy of expression not often heard so far north at that time.

The former――the plain, unvarnished Scot――was Dr. Hutton, the ingenious philosopher, who thought out and published the “Theory of the Earth” that goes by his name, having previously shown his public spirit, and rendered essential services to the agriculture of his native country, by bringing, at much exertion to himself, an improved system of husbandry from the rich and fruitful shire of Norfolk, and introducing it into the district where he possessed a small estate. His companion, whose countenance looked that of a being inwardly satisfied with himself and all who came around him, was Dr. Black, the eminent Professor of Chemistry in the northern capital; he whose experiments tended to open up that path of scientific discovery which others have since so successfully pursued.

Joseph Black, than whom few men have ever lived and died more truly respected by his daily associates, was a native of France. He was born in the year 1728, on the banks of the Garonne, hard by the place where that river visits the city of Bordeaux. There his father, who belonged to Belfast, had settled as a wine-merchant, and married the daughter of an individual engaged in the same trade. But with all these temptations and advantages in one of the largest and most opulent of French towns to embark the boy in the commercial pursuits which formed the business of his nearest relatives, young Black was very early destined to a medical career. Arrangements were made with that view; and at the age of twelve the future chemist left his home and native soil, to be fittingly educated at the grammar-school of the flourishing Irish sea-port town from which his worthy sire had emigrated to the fair land of vines. For several years he pursued his preparatory studies in Belfast; and his maternal grandfather being, though resident in Bordeaux, connected by birth and some territorial possession with Scotland, Black was, most likely from that cause, transported in his eighteenth year to Glasgow, and entered as a student at the University. He was immediately introduced to, and patronized by, the Professor of Natural Philosophy, with whose son he formed a juvenile intimacy, which was cemented by the similarity of their tastes.

About the date of Black’s arrival at this college, it happened that the celebrated Cullen――he who influenced the career of Dr. Hunter――made his first public appearance at that seat of learning, in the capacity of Lecturer on Chemistry; his reputation speedily crept abroad, and the attendance at his class became large. The clever and acute French student was brought under the notice of Cullen, who, being frank and generous to his pupils, almost to a fault, made himself perfectly accessible at all hours, and treated them with much respect. He immediately perceived the bent of Black’s genius; and not only recommended, but strongly urged, him to apply himself with determination to cultivate the science of chemistry, and gave him every assistance in doing so. Cullen was not, perhaps, a first-rate chemist himself, but he had an admirable method of imparting instruction; and his gifted pupil’s preference for the study became so apparent, that he was ere long employed to assist his friend and teacher in the experiments of the classroom; and, when thus occupied, exhibited so much address and dexterity as contributed in no small degree to the success and fame of the lectures.

Black was still engaged in medical studies, and in order to complete them under advantageous circumstances he repaired, in 1751, to Edinburgh, where he stayed in the house of a cousin, who held one of the professorships. Having, during three sessions, attended all the requisite classes, he duly took the degree of Doctor of Medicine. On that occasion he chose for his theme a chemical topic――the acid arising from food and magnesia alba. Next year he, “still achieving, still pursuing,” communicated his further ideas on the subject to a scientific society, in a paper which was then read by him, and afterward published in the second volume of “Essays, Physical and Literary,” and gave an account of a most important chemical discovery. This was the existence of an aërial fluid, which he called fixed air, the presence of which gives mildness, as its absence gives causticity, to alkalies and calcareous earths.

In 1756, on Cullen’s removal to Edinburgh, Black was appointed Professor of Chemistry and Anatomy at Glasgow in his stead; but not relishing, nor feeling particularly qualified for, the anatomical part of the business, he requested and obtained the assent of the heads of the university to an exchange, which he effected with the Professor of Medicine. While in this position he matured and made public his theory of latent heat, and explained to a society in Glasgow his experiments on the subject, in the clearest and most satisfactory manner; and this proved a principal leading step to the discoveries of Laplace, Lavoisier, and others: though they niggardly and enviously abstained in their dissertations from giving him that credit in the matter to which he was so justly entitled. In 1764 he had as one of his pupils the celebrated Watt; and it proved most fortunate for the interests of science and for the fame of both, that these great men were thus brought together.

Dr. Black was, in 1766, recalled to Edinburgh to fill the professorial chair of Chemistry, which was rendered vacant by the appointment of his old friend and adviser, Cullen, to that of Medicine. During the remainder of his career he was regarded as one of the chief ornaments of the university, as well as a most distinguished member of the literary circle which then adorned the Scottish metropolis, where his private character was highly esteemed. He continued his researches with perseverance and success; and his lectures were so remarkable for ease and elegance of style, novelty of information, and originality of reasoning, that few students ever left college without having attended a course or two. His devotion to the duties of his professorship was so complete, that it interfered materially with the spread of his fame, as others were thus allowed to pass him in that very path of discovery which his genius had illumined and opened up. A paper which he furnished, on the “Effects of boiling upon water in disposing it to freeze more readily,” was published in the “Philosophical Transactions” for 1774; and an “Analysis of the water of some hot springs in Iceland,” appeared in the Scottish “Philosophical Transactions for 1791.” In due time he became a member of the societies of London and of the city where he resided, and, moreover, had the distinction of being selected as one of the eight Foreign Associates of the Academy of Sciences at Paris. His lectures on the “Elements of Chemistry,” delivered in the University of Edinburgh, were, as late as 1803, published in two volumes, by Professor Robison.

While thus achieving scientific triumphs, the pecuniary affairs of Dr. Black had flourished better than even the most inquisitive of his neighbors had supposed; and the manner in which he disposed of his money by his will was peculiar and characteristic. When he felt the approaches of age, and found it necessary to employ an assistant, about his sixtieth year he had a list drawn up of persons who had a claim on his bounty, and whom he wished to inherit his treasure; and he destined it in such proportions as seemed consistent with the extent of care and solicitude to which they were entitled at his hand.

His health had long been in a delicate state, insomuch that he was under the hard necessity of refraining from writing an account of his brilliant discoveries, as the exertion of doing so for any continuous period invariably brought on a spitting of blood; and he felt himself in no condition to encounter the criticism or engage in the controversy likely to follow such a publication. Moreover, he is said to have been apprehensive of a long sickness, which for many reasons he anxiously wished to avoid. This fate was averted by the sudden nature of the summons he received to another world. On the 26th of November, 1799, while he was seated at table partaking of such abstemious fare as he had lately restricted himself to, the messenger of death was upon him, and struck the fatal blow. His servitor went into the room according to custom, but observing the cup of the venerable philosopher in his hand, as if about to be raised to his lips, and naturally supposing him to be in deep thought, he noiselessly withdrew. Entering soon after, he perceived his master still in the same posture, but on going up to the chair, was beyond measure surprised to find that the lamp of life had gently expired.

BRINDLEY.

Few more remarkable men than Brindley have appeared in these latter times. He was not only the architect of his own fortune, but added enormously to the wealth of others, and to the public resources. In the acquirement of that knowledge which gave him the power of accomplishing great schemes, he had none of the appliances and facilities which competence furnishes and wealth commands; but he possessed advantages which were of more value to a man like him――a mind not to be startled at the prospect of its faculties being exerted――a resolution which, in the true spirit of industry, held difficulties at defiance――and a determination whose intellectual efforts circumstances could not baffle or subdue.

James Brindley was born in the year 1716, at Tunsted, within the county of Derby. His father had reduced himself to extreme poverty by habits of dissipation and extravagance. Accordingly, any education that Brindley received at school was, no doubt, of the very slightest and most limited description. It appears, however, that the statement of his inability to read and write is quite incorrect; several specimens of his penmanship having been produced. He is said never to have been instructed even in the first principles of mechanics, but was able by a peculiar process of his own invention, to make most accurate calculations. Besides, his memory adhered with amazing tenacity to any facts or information committed to its keeping: and by such means did this unquestioned benefactor of his kind countervail his deficiency of early training and scientific knowledge.

Having passed a few years in agricultural operations――plying with the flail or whistling at the plow――he was, at the age of seventeen, apprenticed to a millwright at Macclesfield, in Cheshire. In this situation his ideas were rapidly enlarged, and his faculties sharpened by experience in the trade which he had selected, probably from feeling that it would accord better with his tastes than the labors of the husbandman had done. His mechanical genius now began to develop itself, and to become perceptible; and so apparent was his progress in obtaining a knowledge of the business, that his employer frequently when absent from the mills, left him to execute pieces of work without finding it necessary to give any instruction in regard to them. Moreover, the different millers by whom they were employed soon discovered his superiority, and infinitely preferred his services to those of the master or any of the workmen belonging to the establishment. On approaching manhood, Brindley himself felt that he was destined for higher matters; and vague presentiments of better days in store occupied and agitated his powerful mind as he resolutely pursued his daily labors. Little could he imagine that he, the poor journeyman of a rural millwright, should, ere long, be the instrument of contributing materially to the national wealth; but it was ordered that it should be so.