Chapter V: Part 5

After his return from a short but unsuccessful mission to Canada, Dr. Franklin had been appointed President of the Convention for settling the constitution of Pennsylvania; but he had not long held the office before his services were again put in requisition by the Congress, as head of the Commission to the Court of France, with powers to negotiate loans, purchase stores, and grant letters of marque. He consented, with all the alacrity of youth, to undertake this charge, though in his 71st year; and, crossing the Atlantic for the fourth time, arrived in France with his colleagues before the end of 1776, and took up his residence at Passy, a village near Paris. The nation at large received the Commission with open arms, and rendered them much assistance, in which the Government secretly participated. But it was not till the surrender of Burgoyne’s army, in October 1777, that the reluctance of the Court to hazard a war with England was overcome. The treaty of alliance, and recognition of the United States, was signed in February 1778, and war immediately was declared against England.

The principal object of the Commission being thus gained, Franklin still continued in France with the character of plenipotentiary during the seven remaining years of the war, till 1783, when England consented to recognize the independence of her late colonies. The definitive treaty for that purpose was signed by himself, and on the part of England by David Hartley, September 3, 1783.

He had of late years been afflicted with those painful disorders the gout and stone, and at last received permission to return, of which he availed himself the following spring, having just completed his 79th year. He was, as may be supposed, most enthusiastically received at Philadelphia, after an absence of eight years and a half; but the Congress, with an ingratitude which has often been justly laid to the charge of republics, made him no acknowledgment or compensation for his long and arduous services; and he felt the neglect rather keenly.

In a very short time we find him again busily engaged in public employments; first as a member of the Supreme Executive Council, and of the Commission for the settlement of the National Confederacy, and soon afterwards as President of the state of Pennsylvania, which he retained for the full legal period of three years. He was also a leading member in several societies for public and charitable purposes. One of the latter was a Society for the Abolition of Slavery, and his last public act was a memorial to Congress on this subject. He then wholly retired from public employments, after a life spent in labours through which nothing could have supported him but a consciousness of the high responsibilities of a mind gifted like his own, and the magnitude of the cause for which his powerful advocacy was so long engaged. He died about two years after his retirement, at the age of eighty-four, in the full enjoyment of all his faculties. Few men ever possessed such opportunities or talents for contributing to the welfare of mankind; fewer still have used them to better purpose: and it is pleasant to know, on his own authority, that such extensive services were rendered without any sacrifice of his own happiness. In his later correspondence he frequently alludes with complacency to a favourite sentiment which he has also introduced into his Memoirs;—“That he would willingly live over again the same course of life, even though not allowed the privilege of an author, to correct in a second edition the faults of the first.”

His remarkable success in life and in the discharge of his public functions is not to be ascribed to genius, unless the term be extended to that perfection of common sense and intimate knowledge of mankind which almost entitled his sagacity to the name of prescience, and made ‘Franklin’s forebodings’ proverbially ominous among those who knew him. His preeminence appears to have resulted from the habitual cultivation of a mind originally shrewd and observant, and gifted with singular powers of energy and self-control. There was a business-like alacrity about him, with a discretion and integrity which conciliated the respect even of his warmest political foes; a manly straight-forwardness before which no pretension could stand unrebuked; and a cool tenacity of temper and purpose which never forsook him under the most discouraging circumstances, and was no doubt exceedingly provoking to his opponents. Indeed his sturdiness, however useful to his country in time of need, was perhaps carried rather to excess; his enemies called it obstinacy, and accused him of being morose and sullen. No better refutation of such a charge can be wished for than the testimony borne to his disposition by Priestley (Monthly Magazine, 1782), a man whom Franklin was justly proud to call his friend. In private life he was most estimable; two of his most favourite maxims were, never to exalt himself by lowering others, and in society to enjoy and contribute to all innocent amusements without reserve. His friendships were consequently lasting, and chosen at will from among the most amiable as well as the most distinguished of both sexes, wherever his residence happened to be fixed.

His chief claims to philosophical distinction are his experiments and discoveries in electricity; but he has left essays upon various other matters of interest and practical utility; an end of which he never lost sight. Among these are remarks on ship-building and light-houses; on the temperature of the sea at different latitudes and depths, and the phenomena of what is called the Gulf-stream of the Atlantic; on the effect of oil poured upon rough water, and other subjects connected with practical navigation; and on the proper construction of lamps, chimneys, and stoves. His suggestions on these subjects are very valuable. His other writings are numerous; they relate chiefly to politics, or the inculcation of the rules of prudence and morality. Many of them are light and even playful; they are all instructive, and written in an excellent and simple style; but they are not entirely free from the imputation of trifling upon serious subjects. The most valuable of them is probably his autobiography, which is unfortunately but a fragment.

As a speaker he was neither copious nor eloquent; there was even a degree of hesitation and embarrassment in his delivery. Yet as he seldom rose without having something important to say, and always spoke to the purpose, he commanded the attention of his hearers, and generally succeeded in his object.

His religious principles, when disengaged from the scepticism of his youth, appears to have been sincere, and unusually free from sectarian animosity.

Upon the whole, his long and useful life forms an instructive example of the force which arises from the harmonious combination of strong faculties and feelings when so controlled by sense and principle that no one is suffered to predominate to the disparagement of the rest.

An excellent Life, in which his autobiography is included, with a collection of many of his miscellaneous writings, and much of his correspondence, has been published in six octavo volumes, by his grandson Temple Franklin, who accompanied him during his mission to France, and possessed the amplest means of verifying his statements by reference to the original papers.

SCHWARTZ.

It is refreshing to turn from the scenes of war and bloodshed, and frequently of perfidy and oppression, by which our European empire in India was established and consolidated, to watch the progress of a benevolent and peaceful enterprise, the substitution of the Christian faith for the impure, and bloody, and oppressive superstitions of the Hindoos. We augur well of its success, though it is still far from its accomplishment; for, since the first hand was put to it, it has advanced with slow, yet certain and unfaltering steps. Many able and good men have devoted themselves to the cause, and none with more distinguished success than he who has been called the Apostle of the East, CHRISTIAN SCHWARTZ. The saying of an eminent missionary, who preached to a far different people, the stern and high-minded Indians of North America, is exemplified in his life,—“Prayer and pains, through faith, will do any thing.” For years Schwartz laboured in obscurity, with few scattered and broken rays of encouragement to cheer his way. But his patience, his integrity, his unwearied benevolence, his sincerity and unblemished purity of life, won a hearing for his words of doctrine; and he was rewarded at last by a more extended empire in the hearts of the Hindoos, both heathen and convert, than perhaps any other European has obtained.

_Engraved by E. Scriven._

SCHWARTZ.

_From an original Picture in the possession of
the Society for promoting Christian Knowledge Lincolns Inn Fields._

Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful
Knowledge.

_London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street, & Pall Mall
East._
]

Christian Frederic Schwartz was born at Sonnenburg, in the New Mark, Germany, October 26, 1726. His mother died while he was very young, and, in dying, devoted the child, in the presence of her husband and her spiritual guide, to the service of God, exacting from both of them a promise that they would use every means for the accomplishment of this, her last and earnest wish. Schwartz received his education at the schools of Sonnenburg and Custrin. He grew up a serious and well-disposed boy, much under the influence of religious impressions; and a train of fortunate circumstances deepened those impressions, at a time when the vivacity of youth, and the excitement which he was dedicated. When about twenty years of age he entered the University of Halle, where he obtained the friendship of one of the professors, Herman Francke, a warm and generous supporter of the missionary cause. While resident at Halle, Schwartz, together with another student, was appointed to learn the Tamul or Malabar language, in order to superintend the printing of a Bible in that tongue. His labour was not thrown away, though the proposed edition never was completed; for it led Francke to propose to him that he should go out to India as a missionary. The suggestion suited his ardent and laborious character, and was at once accepted. The appointed scene of his labours was Tranquebar, on the Coromandel coast, the seat of a Danish mission: and, after repairing to Copenhagen for ordination, he embarked from London for India, January 21, 1750, and reached Tranquebar in July.

It is seldom that the life of one employed in advocating the faith of Christ presents much of adventure, except from the fiery trials of persecution; or much of interest, except to those who will enter into the missionary’s chief joy or sorrow, the success or inefficiency of his preaching. From persecution Schwartz’s whole life was free; his difficulties did not proceed from bigoted or interested zeal, but from the apathetic subtlety of his Hindoo hearers, ready to listen, slow to be convinced, enjoying the mental sword-play of hearing, and answering, and being confuted, and renewing the same or similar objections at the next meeting, as if the preacher’s former labours had not been. The latter part of his life was possessed of active interest; for he was no stranger to the court or the camp; and his known probity and truthfulness won for him the confidence of three most dissimilar parties, a suspicious tyrant, an oppressed people, and the martial and diplomatic directors of the British empire in India. But the early years of his abode in India possess interest neither from the marked success of his preaching, nor from his commerce with the busy scenes of conquest and negotiation. For sixteen years he resided chiefly at Tranquebar, a member of the mission to which he was first attached; but at the end of that time, in 1766, he transferred his services to the Society for promoting Christian Knowledge, with which he acted until death, and to which the care of the Danish mission at Tranquebar was soon after transferred. He had already, in 1765, established a church and school at Tritchinopoly, and in that town he now took up his abode, holding the office of chaplain to the garrison, for which he received a salary of £100 yearly. This entire sum he devoted to the service of the mission.

For several years Schwartz resided principally at Tritchinopoly, visiting other places, from time to time, especially Tanjore, where his labours ultimately had no small effect. He was heard with attention, he was everywhere received with respect, for the Hindoos could not but admire the beauty of his life, though it failed to win souls to his preaching. “The fruit,” he said, “will perhaps appear when I am at rest.” He had, however, the pleasure of seeing some portion of it ripen, for in more than one place a small congregation grew gradually up under his care. His toil was lightened and cheered in 1777, when another missionary was sent to his assistance from Tranquebar. Already he had derived help from some of his more advanced converts, who acted as catechists, for the instruction of others. He was sedulous in preparing these men for their important duty. “The catechists,” he says, “require to be daily admonished and stirred up, otherwise they fall into indolence and impurity.” Accordingly he daily assembled all those whose nearness permitted this frequency of intercourse; he taught them to explain the doctrines of their religion; he directed their labours for the day, and he received a report of those labours in the evening.

His visits to Tanjore became more frequent, and he obtained the confidence of the Rajah, or native prince, Tulia Maha, who ruled that city under the protection of the British. In 1779 Schwartz procured permission from him to erect a church in his capital, and, with the sanction of the Madras Government, set immediately to work on this task. His funds failing, he applied at Madras for further aid; but, in reply, he was summoned to the seat of government with all speed, and requested to act as an ambassador, to treat with Hyder Ally for the continuance of peace. It has been said, that Schwartz engaged more deeply than became his calling in the secular affairs of India. The best apology for his interference, if apology be needful, is contained in his own account:—“The novelty of the proposal surprised me at first: I begged some time to consider of it. At last I accepted of the offer, because by so doing I hoped to prevent evil, and to promote the welfare of the country.” The reason for sending him is at least too honourable to him to be omitted: it was the requisition of Hyder himself. “Do not send to me,” he said, “any of your agents; for I do not trust their words or treaties: but if you wish me to listen to your proposals, send to me the missionary of whose character I hear so much from every one; him I will receive and trust.”

In his character of an envoy Schwartz succeeded admirably. He conciliated the crafty, suspicious, and unfeeling despot, without compromising the dignity of those whom he represented, or forgetting the meekness of his calling. He would gladly have rendered his visit to Seringapatam available to higher than temporal interests: but here he met with little encouragement. Indifferent to all religion, Hyder suffered the preacher to speak to him of mercy and of judgment; but in these things his heart had no part. Some few converts Schwartz made during his abode of three months; but on the whole he met with little success. He parted with Hyder upon good terms, and returned with joy to Tanjore. The peace, however, was of no long continuance; and Schwartz complained that the British Government were guilty of the infraction. Hyder invaded the Carnatic, wasting it with fire and sword; and the frightened inhabitants flocked for relief and protection to the towns. Tanjore and Tritchinopoly were filled with famishing multitudes. During the years 1781, 2, and 3, this misery continued. At Tanjore, especially, the scene was dreadful. Numbers perished in the streets of want and disease; corpses lay unburied, because the survivors had not energy or strength to inter them; the bonds of affection were so broken that parents offered their children for sale; and the garrison, though less afflicted than the native population, were enfeebled and depressed by want, and threatened by a powerful army without the walls. There were provisions in the country; but the cultivators, frightened and alienated by the customary exactions and ill-usage, refused to bring it to the fort. They would trust neither the British authorities nor the Rajah: all confidence was destroyed. “At last the Rajah said to one of our principal gentlemen, ‘We all, you and I, have lost our credit: let us try whether the inhabitants will trust Mr. Schwartz.’ Accordingly, he sent me a blank paper, empowering me to make a proper agreement with the people. Here was no time for hesitation. The Sepoys fell down as dead people, being emaciated with hunger; our streets were lined with dead corpses every morning—our condition was deplorable. I sent therefore letters every where round about, promising to pay any one with my own hands, and to pay them for any bullock which might be taken by the enemy. In one or two days I got above a thousand bullocks; and sent one of our catechists, and other Christians, into the country. They went at the risk of their lives, made all possible haste, and brought into the fort, in a very short time, 80,000 kalams of grain. By this means the fort was saved. When all was over, I paid the people, even with some money which belonged to others, made them a small present, and sent them home.”

The letter from which this passage is extracted was written to the Society for promoting Christian Knowledge, in consequence of an attack made by a member of Parliament upon the character of the Hindoo converts, and depreciation of the labours of the missionaries. To boast was not in Schwartz’s nature; but he was not deterred by a false modesty from vindicating his own reputation, when it was expedient for his master’s service: and there has seldom been a more striking tribute paid to virtue, unassisted by power, than in the conduct of the Hindoos, as told in this simple statement. His labours did not cease with this crisis, nor with his personal exertions. He bought a quantity of rice at his own expense, and prevailed on some European merchants to furnish him with a monthly supply; by means of which he preserved many persons from perishing. In 1784 he was again employed by the Company on a mission to Tippoo Saib; but the son of Hyder refused to receive him. About this period his health, hitherto robust, began to fail; and in a letter, dated July, 1784, he speaks of the approach of death, of his comfort in the prospect, and firm belief in the doctrines which he preached. In the same year the increase of his congregation rendered it necessary to build a Malabar church in the suburbs of Tanjore, which was done chiefly at his own expense. In February, 1785, he engaged in a scheme for raising English schools throughout the country, to facilitate the intercourse of the natives with Europeans. Schools were accordingly established at Tanjore and three other places. The pupils were chiefly children of the upper classes—of Bramins and merchants; and the good faith with which Schwartz conducted these establishments deserves to be praised as well as his religious zeal. “Their intention, doubtless, is to learn the English language, with a view to their temporal welfare; but they thereby become better acquainted with good principles. No deceitful methods are used to bring them over to the doctrines of Christ, though the most earnest wishes are felt that they may attain that knowledge which is life eternal.” In a temporal view, these establishments proved very serviceable to many of the pupils: but, contrary to Schwartz’s hopes and wishes, not one of the young men became a missionary.

In January, 1787, Schwartz’s friend, the Rajah of Tanjore, lay at the point of death. Being childless, he had adopted a boy, yet in his minority, as his successor: a practice recognised by the Hindoo law. His brother, Ameer Sing, however, was supported by a strong British party, and it was not likely that he would submit quietly to his exclusion from the throne. In this strait Tulia Maha sent for Schwartz, as the only person to whom he could intrust his adopted son. “This,” he said, “is not my, but your son; into your hands I deliver the child.” Schwartz accepted the charge with reluctance; he represented his inability to protect the orphan, and suggested that Ameer Sing should be named regent and guardian. The advice probably was the best that could be given: but the regent proved false, or at least doubtful in his trust; and the charge proved a source of trouble and anxiety. But by Schwartz’s care, and influence with the Company, the young prince was reared to manhood, and established in possession of his inheritance. Nor were Schwartz’s pains unsuccessful in cultivation of his young pupil’s mind, who is characterized by Heber as an “extraordinary man.” He repaid these fatherly cares with a filial affection, and long after the death of Schwartz testified, both by word and deed, his regard for his memory.

We find little to relate during the latter part of Schwartz’s life, though much might be written, but that the nature of this work forbids us to dilate upon religious subjects. His efforts were unceasing to promote the good, temporal as well as spiritual, of the Indian population. On one occasion he was requested to inspect the watercourses by which the arid lands of the Carnatic are irrigated; and his labours were rewarded by a great increase in the annual produce. Once the inhabitants of the Tanjore country had been so grievously oppressed, that they abandoned their farms, and fled the country. The cultivation which should have begun in June was not commenced even at the beginning of September, and all began to apprehend a famine. Schwartz says in the letter, which we have already quoted, “I entreated the Rajah to remove that shameful oppression, and to recall the inhabitants. He sent them word that justice should be done to them, but they disbelieved his promises. He then desired me to write to them, and to assure them that he, at my intercession, would show kindness to them. I did so. All immediately returned; and first of all the Collaries believed my word, so that 7,000 men came back in one day. The rest of the inhabitants followed their example. When I exhorted them to exert themselves to the utmost, because the time for cultivation was almost lost, they replied in the following manner:—‘As you have showed kindness to us, you shall not have reason to repent of it: we intend to work night and day to show our regard for you.’”

His preaching was rewarded by a slow, but a progressive effect; and the number of missionaries being increased by the Society in England, the growth of the good seed, which he had sown during a residence of forty years, became more rapid and perceptible. In the country villages numerous congregations were formed, and preachers were established at Cuddalore, Vepery, Negapatam, and Palamcotta, as well as at the earlier stations of Tranquebar, Tritchinopoly, and Tanjore, whose chief recreation was the occasional intercourse with each other which their duty afforded them, and who lived in true harmony and union of mind and purpose. The last illness of Schwartz was cheered by the presence of almost all the missionaries in the south of India, who regarded him as a father, and called him by that endearing name. His labours did not diminish as his years increased. From the beginning of January to the middle of October, 1797, we are told by his pupil and assistant, Caspar Kolhoff, he preached every Sunday in the English and Tamul languages by turns; for several successive Wednesdays he gave lectures in their own languages to the Portuguese and German soldiers incorporated in the 51st regiment; during the week he explained the New Testament in his usual order at morning and evening prayer; and he dedicated an hour every day to the instruction of the Malabar school children. In October, he who hitherto had scarce known disease, received the warning of his mortality. He rallied for a while, and his friends hoped that he might yet be spared to them. But a relapse took place, and he expired February 13, 1798, having displayed throughout a long and painful illness a beautiful example of resignation and happiness, and an interest undimmed by pain in the welfare of all for and with whom he had laboured. His funeral, on the day after his death, presented a most affecting scene. It was delayed by the arrival of the Rajah, who wished to behold once more his kind, and faithful, and watchful friend and guardian. The coffin lid was removed; the prince gazed for the last time on the pale and composed features, and burst into tears. The funeral service was interrupted by the cries of a multitude who loved the reliever of their distresses, and honoured the pure life of the preacher, who for near fifty years had dwelt among them, careless alike of pleasure, interest, and ambition, pursuing a difficult and thankless task with unchanging ardour, the friend of princes, yet unsullied even by the suspicion of a bribe, devoting his whole income, beyond a scanty maintenance, to the service of the cause which his life was spent in advocating.

The Rajah continued to cherish Schwartz’s memory. He commissioned Flaxman for a monument erected to him at Tanjore; he placed his picture among those of his own ancestors; he erected more than one costly establishment for charitable purposes in honour of his name; and, though not professing Christianity, he secured to the Christians in his service not only liberty, but full convenience for the performance of their religious duties. Nor were the Directors backward in testifying their gratitude for his services. They sent out a monument by Bacon to be erected in St. Mary’s Church at Madras, with orders to pay every becoming honour to his memory, and especially to permit to the natives, by whom he was so revered, free access to view this memorial of his virtues.

It is to be regretted that no full memoir of the life and labours of this admirable man has been published. It is understood that his correspondence, preserved by the Society for promoting Christian Knowledge, would furnish ample materials for such a work. The facts of this account are taken from the only two memoirs of Schwartz which we know to be in print,—a short one for cheap circulation published by the Religious Tract Society; and a more finished tribute to his memory in Mr. Carne’s ‘Lives of Eminent Missionaries,’ recently published. We conclude in the words of one whose praise carries with it authority, Bishop Heber: “Of Schwartz, and his fifty years’ labour among the heathen, the extraordinary influence and popularity which he acquired, both with Mussulmans, Hindoos, and contending European governments, I need give you no account, except that my idea of him has been raised since I came into the south of India. I used to suspect that, with many admirable qualities, there was too great a mixture of intrigue in his character—that he was too much of a political prophet, and that the veneration which the heathen paid, and still pay him (and which indeed almost regards him as a superior being, putting crowns, and burning lights before his statue), was purchased by some unwarrantable compromise with their prejudices. I find I was quite mistaken. He was really one of the most active and fearless, as he was one of the most successful missionaries, who have appeared since the Apostles. To say that he was disinterested in regard of money, is nothing; he was perfectly careless of power, and renown never seemed to affect him, even so far as to induce an outward show of humility. His temper was perfectly simple, open, and cheerful; and in his political negotiations (employments which he never sought, but which fell in his way) he never pretended to impartiality, but acted as the avowed, though certainly the successful and judicious agent of the orphan prince committed to his care, and from attempting whose conversion to Christianity he seems to have abstained from a feeling of honour[4]. His other converts were between six and seven thousand, being those which his companions and predecessors in the cause had brought over.”

Footnote 4:

He probably acted on the same principle as in conducting the English
schools above-mentioned, using “no deceitful methods.” That he was
earnest in recommending the _means_ of conversion, appears from a
dying conversation with his pupil, Serfogee Rajah.

BARROW.

The name of ISAAC BARROW stands eminent among the divines and philosophers of the seventeenth century. Of the many good and great men whom it is the glory of Trinity College, Cambridge, to number as her foster-sons, there is none more good, none perhaps, after BACON and NEWTON, more distinguished than he: and he has an especial claim to the gratitude of all members of that splendid foundation as the projector of its unequalled library, as well as a liberal benefactor in other respects.

The father of Barrow, a respectable citizen of London, was linen-draper to Charles I., and the son was naturally brought up in royalist principles. The date of his birth is variously assigned by his biographers, but the more probable account fixes it to October, 1630. It is recorded that his childhood was turbulent and quarrelsome; that he was careless of his clothes, disinclined to study, and especially addicted to fighting and promoting quarrels among his school-fellows; and of a temper altogether so unpromising, that his father often expressed a wish, that if any of his children should die, it might be his son Isaac. He was first sent to school at the Charter House, and removed thence to Felstead in Essex. Here his disposition seemed to change: he made great progress in learning, and was entered at Trinity College in 1645, in his fifteenth year, it being then usual to send boys to college about that age. He passed his term as an under graduate with much credit. The time and place were not favourable to the promotion of Royalists; for a royalist master had been ejected to make room for one placed there by the Parliament, and the fellows were chiefly of the same political persuasion. But Barrow’s good conduct and attainments won the favour of his superiors, and in 1649, the year after he took his degree, he was elected fellow. It deserves to be known, for it is honourable to both parties, that he never disguised or compromised his own principles.

_Engraved by B. Holl._

BARROW.

_From the original Picture by Isaac Whood
at Trinity College, Cambridge._

Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful
Knowledge.

_London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street, & Pall Mall
East._
]

His earlier studies were especially turned towards natural philosophy; and, rejecting the antiquated doctrines then taught in the schools, he selected Bacon, Galileo, and Descartes as his favourite authors. He did not commence the study of mathematics until after he had gained his fellowship, and was led to it in a very circuitous way. He was induced to read the Greek astronomers, with a view to solving the difficulties of ancient chronology; and to understand their works a thorough knowledge of geometry was indispensable. He therefore undertook the study of that science; which suited the bent of his genius so well, that he became one of the greatest proficients in it of his age. His first intention was to become a physician, and he made considerable progress in anatomy, chemistry, botany, and other sciences subservient to the profession of medicine; but he changed his mind, and determined to make divinity his chief pursuit. In 1655 he went abroad. His travels extended through France, Italy, and the Levant, to Constantinople; and, after an absence of four years, he returned to England through Germany and Holland. During this period he lost no opportunity of prosecuting his studies; and he sent home several descriptive poems, and some letters, written in Latin, which are printed in his Opuscula, in the fourth volume of the folio edition of his works. In the voyage to Smyrna he gave a proof of the high spirit, which, purified from its childish unruliness and violence, continued to form part of his character through life. The vessel being attacked by an Algerine corsair, Barrow remained on the deck, cheerfully and vigorously fighting, until the assailant sheered off. Being asked afterwards why he did not go into the hold, and leave the defence of the ship to those whom it concerned, he replied, “It concerned no one more than myself. I would rather have died than fallen into the hands of those merciless pirates.” He has described this voyage, and its eventful circumstances, in a poem contained in his Opuscula.

He entered into orders in 1659, and in the following year was made Greek Professor at Cambridge. The numerous offices to which he was appointed about this time, show that his merits were generally and highly esteemed. He was chosen to be Professor of Geometry at Gresham College in 1662; and was one of the first fellows elected into the Royal Society, after the incorporation of that body by charter in 1663; in which year he was also appointed the first mathematical lecturer on the foundation of Mr. Lucas, at Cambridge. Not that he made sinecures of these responsible employments, or thought himself qualified to discharge the duties of all at once: for he resigned the Greek professorship, on being appointed Lucasian Professor, for reasons explained in his introductory oration, which is extant in the Opuscula. The Gresham professorship he also gave up in 1664, intending thenceforth to reside at Cambridge. Finally, in 1669, he resigned the Lucasian chair to his great successor, Newton, intending to devote himself entirely to the study of divinity. Barrow received the degree of D.D. by royal mandate, in 1670; and, in 1672, was raised to the mastership of Trinity College by the King, with the compliment, “that he had given it to the best scholar in England.” In that high station he distinguished himself by liberality: he remitted several allowances which his predecessors had required from the college; he set on foot the scheme for a new library, and contributed in purse, and still more by his personal exertions, to its completion. It should be remarked that his patent of appointment being drawn up, as usual, with a permission to marry, he caused that part to be struck out, conceiving it to be at variance with the statutes. He was cut off by a fever in the prime of life, May 4, 1679, aged 49, during a visit to London. His remains were honourably deposited in Westminster Abbey, among the worthies of the land; and in that noble building a monument was erected to him by the contributions of his friends.

Of Barrow’s mathematical works we must speak briefly. The earliest of them was an edition of Euclid’s Elements, containing all the books, published at Cambridge in 1655, followed by an edition of the Data in 1657. His Lectiones Opticæ, the first lectures delivered on the Lucasian foundation, were printed in 1669, and attracted the following commendation from the eminent mathematician, James Gregory. “Mr. Barrow, in his Optics, shows himself a most subtle geometer, so that I think him superior to any that ever I looked upon. I long exceedingly to see his geometrical lectures, especially because I have some notions on that subject by me.” In this work, (we speak on the authority of Montucla, part iv. viii.), Barrow has applied himself principally to discuss subjects unnoticed or insufficiently explained by preceding authors. Among these was the general problem, to determine the focus of a lens; which, except in a few cases, as where the opposite sides of the lens are similar, and the incident rays of light parallel to the axis, had hitherto been left to the practical skill and experience of the workman. Barrow gave a complete solution of the problem, comprised in an elegant formula which includes all cases, whether of parallel, convergent, or divergent rays. This book, says Montucla, is a mine of curious and interesting propositions in optics, to the solution of which geometry is applied with peculiar elegance.

The Lectiones Geometricæ, full of profound researches into the metaphysics of geometry, the method of tangents, and the properties of curvilinear figures, appeared in the following year, 1670. The vast improvements in our methods of investigation, arising out of the invention of the fluxional or differential calculus, have cast into the shade the labours, and in part the fame, of the early geometricians, and have made that easy, which before was all but impossible. This work, however, is remarkable as containing a way of determining the subtangent of a curve, justly characterized by Montucla as being so intimately connected with the above-named method of analysis, that it is needless to seek in subsequent works the main principle of the differential calculus. The inquiring reader will find a full account of it in Montucla, or in Thomson’s History of the Royal Society, page 275. There is an English translation of the Lectiones Geometricæ by Stone, published in 1735. Barrow also edited the works of Archimedes, the Conics of Apollonius, and the Spherics of Theodosius, in a very compressed form, in 1 vol. 8vo. Lond. 1675. The treatise of Archimedes on the Sphere and Cylinder, and the Mathematicæ Lectiones, a series of Lucasian lectures, read in 1664 and subsequent years, were not printed until 1683, after the author’s death. This work, or at least Kirby’s translation, published about 1734, contains the Oration which he made before the University on his election to the Lucasian chair. For further detail see Ward’s Lives of the Gresham Professors.

It is however as a theologian that Barrow is best known to the present age. Unlike his scientific writings, his theological works never can grow obsolete, for they contain eternal truths set forth with a power of argument, and force of eloquence, which must ever continue to command the admiration of those who are capable of appreciating and relishing the noblest qualities and products of the human mind. The light of revelation shone clearly and steadily then as now; no modern discoveries can increase or diminish its brightness; no new methods of reasoning, no more convenient forms of notation or expression, can supersede the sterling excellences which we have just ascribed to this great divine. Others may rise up (they are yet to come) equal or superior to him in these very excellences; still their fame can never detract from his; and Barrow with his great predecessor, Hooker, will not fail to be classed among the luminaries of the English church, and the standard authors of the English language. Copious and majestic in his style, his sermons were recommended by the great Lord Chatham to his great son, as admirably adapted to imbue the public speaker with the coveted “abundance of words” the knowledge and full command of his native language. He himself neglected not to increase his stores from the models of ancient eloquence; and his manuscripts, preserved in Trinity College Library, bear testimony to the diligence with which he transcribed the finest passages of the Greek and Latin authors, especially Demosthenes and Chrysostom. His sermons were long, too long it was thought by many of his hearers; but they were carefully composed, written and rewritten again and again, and their method, argumentative closeness, and abundant learning, show that he thought no pains too great to bestow on the important duty of public teaching. Warburton said that in reading Barrow’s sermons, he was obliged to think. They are numerous, considering their nature and the comparatively short period of the author’s clerical life. The first edition of his works, by Archbishop Tillotson, to whom, in conjunction with his friend and biographer Mr. Hill, Barrow left his manuscripts, contains seventy-seven sermons on miscellaneous subjects, of which only two were printed, and those not published, during the author’s life; together with a series of thirty-four sermons on the Apostle’s Creed. Mr. Hughes, the late editor of his works, has added to the former collection five more, printed for the first time from the original MSS. in Trinity Library. We quote from the life prefixed to that edition, the eloquent passage in which Mr. Hughes speaks of these admirable works.

“Never, probably, was religion at a lower ebb in the British dominions, than when that profligate Prince Charles II., who sat unawed on a throne formed as it were out of his father’s scaffold, found the people so wearied of puritanical hypocrisy, presbyterian mortifications, and a thousand forms of unintelligible mysticism, that they were ready to plunge into the opposite vices of scepticism or infidelity, and to regard with complacency the dissolute morals of himself and his vile associates. To denounce this wickedness in the most awful terms; to strike at guilt with fearless aim, whether exalted in high places, or lurking in obscure retreats; to delineate the native horrors and sad effects of vice, to develope the charms of virtue, and inspire a love of it in the human heart; in short, to assist in building up the fallen buttresses and broken pillars of God’s church upon earth, was the high and holy duty to which Barrow was called.”

Besides his sermons, Barrow wrote a shorter Exposition of the Creed, an Exposition of the Decalogue, an Exposition of the Lord’s Prayer, and a short account of the doctrine of the Sacraments. These were composed in 1669, the year in which the Lectiones Opticæ were published, in obedience to some college regulation, and, Mr. Hughes conjectures, as exercises for a college preachership. Barrow says, in a letter, that they so took up his thoughts, that he could not easily apply them to any other matter. His great work on the Pope’s Supremacy was not composed till 1676. The pains which he took with it were immense; and we are told by the same authority that “the state of his MS. in Trinity Library shows that probably no piece was ever composed more studiously, digested more carefully, or supported by more numerous and powerful authorities.” Barrow states in this work the several positions, on which the Romanists ground their claim on behalf of the Bishop of Rome, for universal supremacy over the Christian church. These he divides into seven heads, which he proceeds severally and successively to refute. “This treatise,” says Dr. Tillotson, in his preface to it, “he gave to me on his death-bed, with the character that he hoped it was indifferent perfect, though not altogether as he had intended it, if God had granted him longer life. He designed indeed to have transcribed it again, and to have filled up those many spaces which were purposely left in it for the farther confirmation and illustration of several things, by more testimonies and instances which he had in his thoughts. And it would certainly have added much to the beauty and perfection of this work, had it pleased God that he had lived to finish it to his mind, and to have given it his last hand. However, as it is, it is not only a just, but an admirable discourse on this subject, which many others have handled before, but he hath exhausted it; insomuch that no argument of moment, nay, hardly any consideration properly belonging to it, hath escaped his large and comprehensive mind. He hath said enough to silence the controversy for ever, and to deter all wise men of both sides from meddling any further with it.” Appended to this treatise on the Supremacy of the Pope, is a discourse on the Unity of the Church.

We conclude with a few scattered notices of the character and person of this excellent man. His habits, it will readily be supposed, were very laborious. Dr. Pope, in his Life of Bishop Ward, says that during winter Barrow would rise before light, being never without a tinder-box, and that he has known him frequently rise after his first sleep, light and burn out his candle, and then return to bed before day. In pecuniary affairs he was generous in the extreme. Of his liberality to his college we have already spoken. We may add that, being appointed to two ecclesiastical preferments, he bestowed the profits of both in charity, and resigned them as soon as he became master of Trinity. He left no property but books and unpublished manuscripts. Pure in his morals, he was the farthest possible from moroseness; amiable, lively, and witty in his temper and conversation, he was impatient of any looseness, irreverence, or censoriousness of speech, “being of all men,” says Dr. Tillotson, in his Address to the Reader, “I ever had the happiness to know, the clearest of this common guilt, and most free from offending in word; coming as near as it is possible for human frailty to do, to the perfect idea of St. James, his _perfect man_.”

His figure was low and spare, but of uncommon strength; and his courage, devoid of all alloy of quarrelsomeness, was approved in more than one instance related by the biographers of his peaceful life. It was among his peculiarities that he never would sit for his portrait; but some of his friends found means to have it taken without his knowledge, while they engaged his attention in discourse. There is a full length of him in the hall of Trinity, in fit conjunction with those of Newton and Bacon.

The earliest authority for Barrow’s life is a short memoir by his friend and executor, Mr. Hill, prefixed to the first edition of his works. Mr. Ward added some particulars, in his Lives of the Gresham Professors. The fullest accounts are to be found in the second edition of the Biographia Britannica, and in the life prefixed to Mr. Hughes’s edition of his theological works. In this the editor has given an analysis of the contents of each piece, calculated to assist the student to a thorough understanding of the author’s train of argument.

_Engraved by W. Hopwood._

D’ALEMBERT.

_From the original Picture by De la Tour
in the Collection of the Institute of France._

Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful
Knowledge.

_London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street, & Pall Mall
East._
]

D’ALEMBERT.

Jean le Rond D’alembert, one of the most distinguished mathematicians of the last century, owed none of his eminence to the accidents of birth or fortune. Even to a name he had no legal title; he derived the one half of that which he bore from the church of St. Jean le Rond in Paris, near which he was exposed; and the other probably from his foster-mother, a glazier’s wife, to whose care he was intrusted by a commissary of police, who found him. It is conjectured that both the exposure and the adoption of the infant were preconcerted; for a short time the father appeared, and settled on him a yearly pension of twelve hundred francs, equivalent to about £50.

Owing to these circumstances the date of D’Alembert’s birth is not exactly known; it is said to have been the 16th or 17th of November, 1717. He commenced his studies at the Collège des Quatre Nations when twelve years old. Mathematics and poetry seem to have been his favourite pursuits, since his instructors, he says, endeavoured to turn him from them; making it a charge against the former, that they dried up the heart, and recommending that his study of the latter should be confined to the poem of St. Prosper upon Grace. He was permitted, however, to study the rudiments of mathematics: and we may infer that he was little indebted either to books or teachers, from the mortification which he felt somewhat later in life, at finding that he had been anticipated in many things which he had believed to be discoveries of his own. He meant, at one time, to follow the profession of the law, and proceeded so far as to be admitted an advocate. Finding this not to his taste, he tried medicine; and, resolute in good intentions, sent his mathematical books to a friend, to be retained till he had taken his doctor’s degree. But he reclaimed book after book on various pretexts, and finally determined to content himself with his annuity of fifty pounds, and liberty to devote his whole time to the scientific pursuits which he loved so much. His mode of life at this period has been described by himself:—“He awoke,” he says, “every morning, thinking with pleasure on the studies of the preceding evening, and on the prospect of continuing them during the day. When his thoughts were called off for a moment, they turned to the satisfaction he should have at the play in the evening, and between the acts of the piece he meditated on the pleasures of the next morning’s study.”

The history of D’Alembert’s life is soon told. Some memoirs written in 1739 and 1740, and some corrections which he made in the Analyse Démontrée of Reynau, a work then much esteemed in France, obtained for him an entrance into the Académie des Sciences in 1741, at the early age of twenty-four. Simple in his habits, careless of his own advancement, or of the favours of great men, he refused several advantageous offers, which would have withdrawn him from the society of Paris, and from the libraries and other literary advantages of that great metropolis. Frederic II. of Prussia sought to tempt him to Berlin in 1752, and again in 1759. The invitation was again repeated and urged upon him in 1759 and 1763; and on the last occasion the King assured D’Alembert that, in rejecting it, he had made the only false calculation of his whole life. In 1762 Catharine of Russia wished him to undertake the education of her son, and endeavoured to overcome his reluctance to leave Paris, by promising him an income of ten thousand francs, and a kind reception to as many of his friends as would accompany him. “I know,” she said, “that your refusal arises from your desire to cultivate your studies and your friendships in quiet. But this is of no consequence: bring all your friends with you, and I promise you that both you and they shall have every accommodation in my power.” But his income had been rendered sufficient for his wants by a pension of twelve hundred francs from the King of Prussia, and an equal sum from the French Government; and he declined to profit by any of these liberal offers.

It is to D’Alembert’s honour that, until the end of her life, he repaid the services of his foster-mother with filial attention and love. It is said that when his name became famous, his mother, Mademoiselle de Tencin, a lady of rank and wit, and known in the literary circles of the day, sent for him, and acquainted him with the relationship which existed between them. His well-merited reply was, “You are only my step-mother, the glazier’s wife is my mother.” He lived unmarried, but the latter years of his life were overcast in consequence of a singular and unfortunate attachment to a M^{lle.} de l’Espinasse, a young lady of talent, whose society was much courted by the literary men of Paris. She professed to return this attachment; insomuch that when D’Alembert was attacked by a severe illness in 1765, she insisted on becoming his nurse, and after his recovery took up her abode under his roof. The connexion is said to have been purely Platonic; and this, it has been observed, _may_ be believed, because, had the fact been different, there was little reason for concealing it, according to the code of morals which then regulated Parisian society. But the lady proved fickle; and worse than fickle, for she treated D’Alembert, who still retained his affection for her, with contempt and unkindness. Yet this ill usage did not alienate his regard. Upon her death he fell into a state of profound melancholy, from which he never entirely recovered. He died October 29, 1783. Not having conformed, on his death-bed, to the requisitions of the Roman church, some difficulty was experienced in procuring the rites of burial; and in consequence his interment was strictly private.