Chapter VI: Part 6

In 1781, he announced to the world the discovery of his new planet, of which we shall presently speak. He was immediately appointed private astronomer to the King, by George III., a post which, we believe, was created for him, and died with him, with a salary of £400, and removed, first to Datchet, afterwards to Slough, where he continued till his death, August 23, 1822. During this period he ran that career of patient and sagacious investigation, terminating in brilliant discovery, which has made his name so well known to the world. Little has been published concerning his private life; but the whole results of his mind are to be found in the ‘Philosophical Transactions’ between the years 1782 and 1818.

We have not been able to find the dates of his knighthood, or of his receiving the degree of Doctor of Civil Law from the University of Oxford. He married (we cannot find the date) Mrs. Mary Pitt, a widow; and his only son, Sir John Herschel, has selected from the many tasks to which he is competent, that of developing and adding to his father’s discoveries.

In the space which we can devote to the astronomical and optical labours of Herschel, we cannot attempt to furnish even the smallest detail of their end and objects, since the catalogue of titles alone would occupy more room than we have to give. We can do no more than address ourselves to the impression which generally exists upon the subject, and which supposes the inventor and the philosopher to be no more than an industrious man with good eyes, clever at grinding mirrors for reflecting telescopes, and lucky enough to point one at a new planet. Such being the common notion, it is not possible to make any mere description of Herschel’s papers an index of his merits. Nor have we here understated the scientific knowledge of the public in general. When Sir John Herschel lately set out for the Cape of Good Hope, the newspapers announced his approaching departure, accompanied by the information that “six waggon loads of telescopes” were on their way to the ship, which was all that was said, except in publications expressly scientific. That one principal object of the son’s voyage was to complete a great branch of astronomy, by doing in the southern hemisphere what the father had done in the northern, was not stated for a very simple reason—that this portion of the father’s labours is hardly known by name to any but astronomers. And it is to astronomers only that Herschel is truly known. The notion entertained of him by others often reminds us of the farmer, who came to him to know the proper time to cut his hay. The philosopher replied by pointing to his own crop, which happened to be rotting on the ground under a heavy rain.

The planet which Herschel called after George III. (but which now goes under the more appropriate name of Uranus) was discovered by him March 13, 1781; not accidentally, but as one of the fruits of a laborious investigation, with a distinct and useful object. He was examining every star with one telescope, that he might obtain a definite idea of relative phenomena, which should enable him to distinguish changes actually taking place, from differences of appearance caused by the use of different telescopes: the whole being in furtherance of the design of “throwing some new light upon the organization of the celestial bodies.” The last words, which are part of the title of one of his subsequent papers, aptly express the line of astronomy to which Herschel devoted his life; and the discovery of the planet Uranus was not the chance work of a moment, but the consequence of sagacity strengthened by habit, the latter being formed with a perfect knowledge of what was wanted, as well as of what would be useful in supplying it. Had he been merely registering the places of the stars, he would probably (as others did before him) have passed the planet, perhaps with some remark upon its apparent _diskiness_: for though the stars have no well-defined discs, yet some have so much more of the appearance of discs than others, that a faint planet, viewed with a low power, might easily be taken for a star. But being engaged upon the stars, expressly with a view to trying how much of such a circumstance would be telescopic, and how much real, he was thereby led to try higher powers, and, eventually, other telescopes. The existence of the _planet_ was soon ascertained, and forms one of the two great features of Herschel’s reputation in the eyes of the world at large.

The celebrated forty-foot telescope, first described to the Royal Society by Herschel, June 2, 1795, was the result of a long series of experiments on the construction of mirrors, begun at Bath, on telescopes from two to twenty feet in length. And we may here remark, that “the bulk of his fortune arose from the sale of telescopes of his own construction, many of which were purchased for the chief observatories of Europe,” and not from the salary of £400 a year which he received as private astronomer to George III. See ‘Statement of Circumstances,’ &c., a pamphlet printed on the occasion of the last election of a President by the Royal Society. In 1785, George III. furnished Herschel with the means of undertaking an instrument larger than any he had yet made. The greatest difficulty (independent of the stand) was the obtaining a mirror of sufficient size, which should not crack in cooling, and should be strong enough not to bend under its own weight. This instrument has been so frequently described that we shall say no more of it, except that Herschel dates the completion of it from August 28, 1789, when he discovered the sixth satellite of Saturn, and obtained his best view of the spots on that planet. A month later, the seventh satellite was discovered by Herschel. This telescope is now never used. Sir J. Herschel prefers a twenty-foot reflector for his own observations.

The first discovery of the satellites of Uranus was also in a minor degree the work of thought. Such bodies were repeatedly looked for by Herschel, but none were seen. A small change in the instrument, by which the light was increased, suggested one more trial; and the result was the establishment of the existence of the two first satellites, in January, 1787. Two more were discovered by Herschel, in 1790, and two more in 1794. These satellites cannot be seen but with an instrument of first-rate power, and in a favourable position of the planet. No one has observed the four last satellites except Herschel himself, or the two first, except himself and Sir J. Herschel, who has confirmed his father’s determination of their periods. See _Mem. Royal Astron. Soc._ vol. viii. He found that their orbits were nearly perpendicular to the plane of the ecliptic, and ascertained their retrograde motion, and some remarkable relations between their mean distances. It has a brilliant sound, but it is literally true as to the number of _known_ bodies composing the solar system, that Herschel left it exactly half as large again as he found it. To the Sun, Mercury, Venus, the Earth and Moon, Mars, Jupiter and four satellites, Saturn and five satellites, and Halley’s Comet, eighteen in all, he added nine, namely, two satellites to Saturn, Uranus and six satellites.

But not content with augmenting our own, it is to Herschel we owe the discovery of other systems. That the fixed stars were each the centre of a number of planets was suspected, perhaps rather prematurely, before his observations were made known. But the first positive addition to our knowledge of _systems_, that is of bodies which move in any degree of connexion with each other, is to be found in his paper read to the Royal Society, June 9, 1803, announcing that Castor, γ Leonis, ε Bootis, ζ Herculis, δ Serpentis, γ Virginis, were most probably _binary_[4] stars. The existence of such systems has been confirmed by Sir J. Herschel and Professor Struve, and the duration of the periods given by Herschel has been sufficiently confirmed to make the exactness of his observations remarkable. But to new planets, and new systems, Herschel added new universes; or, more properly speaking, showed that the universe consisted of portions, each conveying as large an idea of extent and number, as the whole of what was previously called _the universe_. His great telescope furnished sufficient facts, and his mind was not slow to draw a conjectural inference, which must be classed among the happiest efforts of reasoning speculation. The resolution of the milky way into stars proved that we are situated in a stratum of such bodies much thicker in some directions than others: this led to the inference that some or all of the nebulæ with which the sky is crowded might be similar enormous groups of stars; and the resolution of some of the nebulæ into detached portions was a first step towards the demonstration of the conjecture.

Footnote 4:

_Double_ stars, those which are so near to each other as to appear one
to the naked eye: _binary_ systems, double stars which revolve round
each other.

There is enough yet unmentioned,—in the discovery of the time of rotation of Saturn—that of Jupiter’s satellites—that of the refrangibility of heat—the experiments on colours—the enormous collection of nebulæ—the experimental determination of the magnitude of stars—the researches and conjectures on the physical constitution of the sun—those on the qualities of telescopes, &c. &c.,—to form by itself no ordinary title to the recollection of posterity. But we must refer to Sir J. Herschel’s Astronomy, in which will be found such an account of them as the plan of the work permitted, by one who has shown himself as indisposed to exaggerate, as interested to explain.

In the labours of his observatory Herschel was assisted by his sister, Miss Caroline Herschel, with whose help he published, in 1798, his catalogue of Flamsteed’s stars. This lady, whose exertions, both as an observer and calculator, are well known to astronomers, is still living, at a very advanced age, in Hanover.

We do not know of any very trustworthy account of Herschel. ‘The Obituary for 1822,’ the ‘Gentleman’s Magazine,’ the ‘Annual Register,’ &c., do not state their authorities. We have followed the first-mentioned work as to facts and dates in most of the particulars here mentioned.

]

_Engraved by R. Woodman._

SIR S. ROMILLY.

_From an Enamel after a Picture by Sir Thomas Lawrence._

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

_London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street._
]

ROMILLY.

The grandfather of Sir Samuel Romilly, as we learn from the following passage of a speech which he made at Bristol, “was born the heir to a considerable landed estate at Montpellier, in the South of France. His ancestors had early imbibed and adopted the principles and doctrines of the Reformed Religion, and he had been educated himself in that religious faith. He had the misfortune to live soon after the time when the Edict of Nantes, the great Toleration Act of the Protestants of France, was revoked by Louis XIV.; and he found himself exposed to all the vexations and persecutions of a bigoted and tyrannical government for worshipping God in the manner in which he believed was most acceptable to Him. He determined to free himself from this bondage; he abandoned his property, he tore himself from his connexions, and, quitting the country and its tyrant, sought an asylum in this land of liberty, where he had to support himself only by his own exertions. He himself embarked in trade; he educated his sons to useful trades; and he was contented, at his death, to leave them, instead of his original patrimony, no other inheritance than the habits of industry he had given them—the example of his own virtuous life, an hereditary detestation of tyranny and injustice, and an ardent zeal in the cause of civil and religious freedom.” One of these sons became eminent as a jeweller, and married Miss Garnault, by whom he had a numerous family. Of these three only lived to maturity, Thomas, Catherine, and Samuel. Samuel was the youngest, and was born March 1, 1757.

His father was a man of extreme benevolence, and strict integrity; warm in his affections, and cheerful in his disposition. Under the influence of his precepts and example the moral character of Samuel Romilly was formed: for his mother, from an habitual state of bad health, was incapable of superintending the early education of her children, which was consequently much neglected. Samuel and his brother were sent to a common day-school, the master of which pretended to teach Latin, although really ignorant of that language. It was at one time contemplated to train him to commercial business in the house of the Fludyers, who were then considerable merchants in the city, and near relations of his family: but the sudden death of both the partners of that house put an end to these projects; and in the absence of other occupation, his father employed him in keeping his accounts, and sometimes receiving orders from customers. He had thus leisure to cultivate tastes more congenial to his nature; and at the age of fourteen he commenced that self-education, to which he owed all his future success. Every volume of his father’s little collection, and of the circulating libraries in the neighbourhood, was anxiously and attentively perused. Ancient and modern history, treatises on science, works of criticism, travels, and English poetry, were among his favourite books. But a passion for poetry soon predominated over other tastes; and from admiring the poetry of others he aspired at becoming a poet himself. He wrote eclogues, songs, and satires, translated passages from French poets, and imitated English ones; and resolving to devote himself steadily to literature he hoped to acquire fame as an author. He now set about learning Latin in earnest; and was soon able, by dint of unremitting assiduity, and with some assistance from a private tutor, to understand the easier Latin authors. In the course of about three years he had read through Sallust, Livy, and Tacitus three times; he had studied almost the whole of Cicero, as well as the principal poets; he had gone through the Latin translations of the Greek historians, orators, and philosophers; and had made numerous translations from the Latin classics into English, which he retranslated into Latin. This double exercise he found to be eminently useful in rendering him, what he at length became, a very excellent scholar. In addition to these studies, he attended lectures on natural philosophy, painting, architecture, and anatomy.

In the meanwhile he felt his father’s business become every day more irksome; and it was definitively arranged that he should enter into some branch of the law; a plan which he was enabled to execute by the accession to the family of a considerable legacy. At the age of sixteen, he was articled to Mr. Lally for five years, with a view of succeeding to him as one of the six clerks in Chancery. The society, however, of Mr. Lally and the pursuit of his literary tastes had greater attractions for him than the regular occupation of the office; and although he scrupulously performed the duties required of him, his favourite classics engrossed a large portion of his time, and his mind was still intent upon a life of peaceful retirement, and the prospect of literary fame.

At the expiration of the term of his apprenticeship, however, he determined, much against the opinion of many of his friends, to study at one of the inns of court, and to be called to the bar. His real motive in deciding against a clerkship in chancery, which was then only to be obtained by purchase, was little suspected at the time; it was, that he might not be obliged to call for his share of the legacy just alluded to, amounting to 2000_l._; which he knew it would be very inconvenient to his father to pay. This trait of pious benevolence was, by a just retribution, the pivot upon which his future fortunes more immediately turned.

It was not till he had attained his twenty-first year that he entered upon these new studies; and they were pursued with so much persevering assiduity, that at length he became seriously indisposed, and all application was for months prohibited by his medical advisers. So serious an interruption to his pursuits was likely to be most injurious to him in his profession; when, fortunately, an opportunity occurred of making an excursion to the continent. The Rev. John Roget, who had recently married his sister, had been attacked with a pulmonary complaint, which obliged him to remove with her to a southern climate, leaving behind them in England their first and then only child. They were no sooner settled at Lausanne, than they ardently desired to have this child conveyed to them, and Mr. Romilly, from a deep sense of the obligations he already owed to his brother-in-law for assisting him in his studies, and supplying that judicious and well-timed encouragement, which, on a susceptible and ardent mind, ever acts as the most powerful incentive to exertion, readily undertook the charge. The change of air and scene, the lively interest he took in visiting new countries, and the consciousness of rendering no small service to relatives to whom he was most affectionately attached, produced a rapid and favourable change upon his health. Still more important was the effect produced on the tone of his mind by this renewed intercourse with a friend, who had early discerned his latent abilities and extraordinary capacity, and who, on this occasion, placing before his view the wide field on which those talents might be advantageously exercised, and the important services he might thus be capable of rendering to his fellow-creatures, produced impressions which were indelible, and which, as he himself has often said, had a marked influence upon the subsequent events of his life.

On his return to England he resumed his studies with renovated strength and with redoubled ardour. He was called to the bar in 1783. More than ten years, however, elapsed before any real prospect of success opened to him in his profession. It is true that he was employed in drawing pleadings in chancery, and this business gradually increased; but it never required him to open his lips in court; and although he regularly attended the Midland circuit, he had no connexions on it, and it was not until he commenced an attendance on the sessions that the circuit at length became a source of some profit to him. In 1792 he appeared for the first time as a leader: in a short time he was employed in almost every case, and not many years passed before he was at the head of his circuit.

But we are anticipating a later period. In 1784 Mr. Romilly became acquainted with Mirabeau, and through him with Lord Lansdowne. That nobleman appreciated the knowledge and character of the rising lawyer, and becoming intimate with him, did all in his power to encourage and bring forth his talents. About the same time there was published a tract by the Rev. Dr. Madan, entitled ‘Thoughts on Executive Justice.’ It had attracted some attention, and was so much admired by Lord Lansdowne, that he suggested to his friend the task of writing a treatise in the same spirit. But Mr. Romilly was so much shocked at the principle upon which it proceeded, namely, that of rigidly executing the criminal code in all cases, barbarous and sanguinary as it then was, that, instead of adopting its doctrines, he sat down to refute them. The triumphant reply which he drew up and published anonymously did not meet with the success it deserved. Nevertheless he had the satisfaction of hearing it praised from the bench; and Lord Lansdowne himself had the singular candour to acknowledge the merit of a production, which, although written at his own suggestion, was at variance with the opinions he had desired to see inculcated.

Allusion has been made to Mr. Romilly’s acquaintance with Mirabeau. He was one of those of whose talents Mirabeau had availed himself on more than one occasion. It is unnecessary, however, to mention more than the following instance, which is too characteristic to be omitted. During one of Mr. Romilly’s visits to Paris, in 1788, curiosity led him to see the prison of the Bicêtre, and on meeting Mirabeau the next day, he described to him all the horror and disgust with which the place had inspired him. Mirabeau, struck with the force of his description, begged him to express it in writing, and to be allowed to use it. Mirabeau translated and published this account in a pamphlet, which, in spite of the title, ‘Lettre d’un Voyageur Anglais sur la Prison de Bicêtre,’ was everywhere ascribed to him; while the real author, on his return to England, printed his own MS. in the ‘Repository,’ as the translation, although it was in fact the original.

It was not till the autumn of 1796, when on a visit to Bowood, the country-seat of Lord Lansdowne, that Mr. Romilly first met Miss Garbett, to whom he was afterwards united, and who formed the charm of the remainder of his existence. With such sacred inducements to renew his efforts in his profession, his advancement was proportionably rapid. On November 6, 1800, he was appointed king’s counsel; and it was soon clear that he might aspire to the highest ranks of his profession. In 1806 he was made Solicitor-general, under the administration of Mr. Fox and Lord Grenville. He was, much against his will, knighted on his appointment; and was brought into Parliament by the Government for Queenborough. Soon after, he was called upon to sum up the evidence on the trial of Lord Melville; a duty which he performed with consummate skill, though with a feebleness of voice which deprived his most able speech of its just effect in the vast hall where it was delivered.

During the first session of his parliamentary career, Sir Samuel Romilly confined himself principally to questions of law, and seldom addressed the House, except in committee; but in the beginning of 1807 he took a more prominent part, and made his first great speech in favour of the abolition of the Slave-trade—a speech, which at once placed him on a level with the most successful orators of the day. In this subject he had always felt deep interest. From his earliest youth he had expressed the warmest indignation against this infamous traffic; he had translated, with a view to publication, Condorcet’s pamphlet against West Indian slavery, and, at the beginning of the French Revolution, he had written an eloquent paper against the Slave-trade, and had transmitted it to his friend Dumont, from whom he trusted it would pass to Mirabeau, and would remind him of the importance of the question, at a time when a comparatively slight effort would have settled it in that country for ever. These previous efforts had produced no effect; but he had afterwards the satisfaction of belonging to the ministry to whom the honour was due of abolishing the slave-trade, and of thus preparing the way for putting an end to slavery itself. This ministry were soon after dismissed from their offices, for not sacrificing their opinions in favour of Catholic emancipation to the lamentable and persevering prejudices entertained by George III. on that question, prejudices adopted by his son and successor, to the infinite detriment of his dominions.

On the dissolution of parliament which followed, Sir Samuel Romilly, having procured for himself a seat for Wareham, lost no time in re-introducing a measure, which had been rejected in the former parliament, to enable a creditor to obtain the payment of his debts from the landed property of persons dying indebted. With a view to prevent opposition, he had confined the operation of his measure to freehold estates only. The bill, however, even in this modified form, met with the greatest opposition. Its introduction by Sir Samuel was ascribed to “his hereditary love of democracy;” it was denounced by Canning, “as the first step of something that might end like the French Revolution, and as a dangerous attack against the aristocracy, which was thus to be sacrificed to the commercial interest;” and it was finally rejected by a considerable majority. Rather than give up his object entirely, he determined to make another concession to the prejudices of his opponents; and a few days after the rejection of the measure, on introducing a second bill on the same subject, he limited its operation to the landed estates of _traders_. This expedient succeeded; the aristocracy, caring little what became of traders’ estates, suffered the bill to pass both houses without the slightest opposition, and it received the Royal assent in August, 1807. After the lapse of seven years, he made fresh attempts in favour of his original bill, but in vain. It was indeed carried by the Commons, in 1814, by a majority of nearly two to one; and again in the same house, in the two succeeding years, without the slightest opposition; but on all these occasions it was as regularly rejected by the House of Peers. The original measure, including copyhold as well as freehold estates, has recently become part of the law of the land.

During the vacation of 1807 Sir Samuel Romilly prepared some of those reforms in the criminal law, by which he is most known to the public. For many years he had been intent on this subject, and had made it his particular study. During repeated visits to the continent, he never missed an opportunity of attending any important trial; and for the sixteen years during which he attended the circuit, he had been in the habit of noting down whatever appeared to him worthy of observation in the criminal courts. Shocked at instances of judicial injustice, which thus fell under his notice, he had secretly resolved that, if it should ever be in his power, he would endeavour to provide a remedy for such gross abuses. The principles of his intended reforms were contained in his answer to Dr. Madan. He held that the prevention of crime is more effectually accomplished by certainty than by severity of punishment; that to approximate to certainty of punishment, it was necessary to mitigate the severities of the penal code; that, unless this were done, there would still be an indisposition on the part of the public to prosecute, of witnesses to give evidence, of juries to convict, and even of judges to put in execution the sentences they had themselves passed;—that all these were so many chances of escape offered to a culprit, operating rather as encouragements than as checks to crime. These doctrines, then so new, although now received as axioms, made but few converts at first; and it was not till they were again brought before the public in the House of Commons, in 1808, that they attracted some of that attention to which they were entitled. One of his first bills, which repealed the punishment of death for stealing privately from the person to the amount of five shillings, passed both houses with but little opposition; but, as the number of prosecutions increased in consequence, it was alleged that the crime itself had increased, and that all similar reforms would be attended with similar mischief. Romilly urged in vain that, when the measure was under consideration, he had foretold that it would produce an increase of prosecutions; and that this, far from being an argument against the mitigation of punishment, was the best proof of its efficacy. In vain did he defend his principle, with the varied stores of his knowledge, with the most powerful arguments, and with the eloquence of deep conviction. The mature reflections of above thirty years’ study and experience were treated as the rash innovations of a wild theorist. The effect of government circulars was too seldom counteracted by the attendance of his own political friends; no party advantage could be gained from such enlightened labours; there was no large and powerful body in the country to second his efforts; and when, at length, after unremitting perseverance, he occasionally succeeded in carrying a bill through the Commons, it was rarely permitted to pass through the ordeal of the Upper House. But these efforts were not thrown away. His views, ably and diligently supported by Sir James Mackintosh and others, have since been confirmed and acted on even by his political opponents. The credit which was due to him who had sown the seed has since been claimed by those who reaped it; but the harvest is not lost to the public.

But Romilly did not shrink from taking an active part on questions more generally interesting to the public, even though the avowal of his opinions might endanger his advancement in life. A remarkable instance of this kind occurred in the beginning of 1809, when the conduct of the Duke of York was brought before the house by Colonel Wardle. He was aware that to support this inquiry would not be less obnoxious to many members of the former government than to those then in office. It had been significantly intimated to him that the Prince of Wales would consider any attack on the duke as an attack on himself; and he felt under some obligation to the Prince for having formerly offered him a seat in parliament, which, however, he had declined. Such was his position; entertaining, however, a strong opinion on the subject, he resolved not to abandon his duty; and he spoke and voted in favour of the motion. He concluded his speech in these words: “The venerable judge[5] who took an early part in the discussion of this question has attested the sincerity of his vote by an affecting allusion to his age and infirmities, to the few inducements which the remainder of his life presented to him. I cannot say the same thing. Not labouring under the same affliction, and not having arrived at the same period of life, I may reasonably be allowed for myself, and for those who are most dear to me, to indulge hopes of prosperity yet to come. Reflecting on the vicissitudes of human life, I may entertain apprehensions of adversity and persecution which perhaps await me. I have, however, the satisfaction to reflect, that it is not possible for me to hope to derive, in any way the most remote, advantages from the vote which upon this occasion I shall give, and from the part which I have thought it my duty to act.”

Footnote 5:

Mr. Barton, a Welsh judge, who was then at the age of nearly seventy,
and deprived of his sight.

These anticipations were afterwards corroborated by several persons, who told him, that after such a speech, he must give up all thoughts of ever being Chancellor. The public also felt that he had made a sacrifice in their cause. Thanks were voted to him in conjunction with Mr. Whitbread, Lord Folkstone, and some others, from the City of London, Liverpool, Carmarthen, Wiltshire, Bristol, Berwick, &c. &c.; and he was invited by the Livery of London to a public dinner, as a mark of approbation of his conduct. He declined, however, to accept the intended honour, and his answers to the addresses were drawn up with that unaffected modesty, and love of simple truth, which were so peculiarly characteristic of his mind. Instead of dwelling upon his own merit, he drew the picture of what would have been thought of him had he pursued an opposite course. “Seeing the case,” he said in his answer to the Livery, “in the light in which I saw it, to have acted otherwise than I did, I must have been base enough to have deserted my public duty upon a most important occasion, from the mean apprehension that to discharge my duty might be attended with personal disadvantage to myself. If there be much merit in not having been actuated by such unworthy motives, (which I cannot think, but if there be,) that merit I certainly may pretend to, &c.”

The course which he took in the year following on the imprisonment of Gale Jones, and the alleged breach of privilege by Sir Francis Burdett, was again at variance with that adopted by either of the two great parties in the house. The Opposition as well as the Ministry, and all the lawyers who took any part in the debate, concurred in thinking the paper written by Sir Francis Burdett a breach of privilege, and deserving of punishment of one kind or another; while Romilly maintained that the house had no jurisdiction to take cognizance of the offence. He did not dispute the right to imprison for a breach of privilege which obstructed their proceedings, but he denied the right and the policy of doing so for the publication of animadversions on matters already concluded. He urged that these latter questions “ought not to be decided on by the house, which thus constituted itself prosecutor, party, and judge, without affording to the accused the opportunity of even hearing the charges preferred against him; but they ought to be left to the ordinary tribunals, the courts of law.” These arguments, disregarded at the time, were amply justified by the events which followed. The folly of the course adopted was proved by serious disturbances, attended with the loss of life; petitions couched in the most disrespectful language were sent up, and inserted on the Journals; and the question of the privileges of the Commons came, in the first instance, before the courts of law, and was finally decided by the House of Lords. Invitations to public dinners were again sent to him, which he again declined; and addresses of thanks were voted “for the stand he had made in favour of the dominion of the law, against arbitrary discretion and undefined privilege.”

But it was not only in this way that the public showed how much they appreciated his integrity and independence. In 1812 he was pressed to allow himself to be put in nomination for several large constituencies; amongst others for Liverpool, Chester, Middlesex, and Bristol. At Bristol, his past political conduct was considered a sufficient guarantee for the future; no pledge was required of him, he was to be put to no expense, and it was agreed that he should be excused from personal canvas. On terms so honourable he consented to be put in nomination; and although a total stranger in the town, his reception was most encouraging, and there seemed every prospect of success. Nevertheless the common but dishonest maxim, of every thing being fair at an election, being acted upon by the opposite party, it was soon evident that he would not be returned; and on the seventh day he resigned any further contest.

Although his opinions were not as yet to receive the sanction of any large and popular constituency, he did not relax his efforts in favour of the rights and interests of the people. On being returned for Horsham, during the six sessions which this parliament lasted, we find him the same strenuous advocate for civil liberty and religious toleration in the most extensive sense of the words, at home and abroad; the same determined enemy to peculation and corruption, the same ardent and judicious reformer of the laws; “incapable on every occasion of being swerved from his duty by the threats of power, the allurements of the great, the temptations of private interest, or even the seduction of popular favour. All the toil, the pain, and the fatigue of his duties were his own; all the advantage which resulted from his labours were for the public.”

He spoke and voted against military flogging, the game laws, the punishment of the pillory, the poor laws, the law of libel, and lotteries; against the suspension of the Habeas Corpus act, Lord Sidmouth’s circular letter, and the employment of spies and informers; and against the persecution of the Protestants in France, and the Alien bill at home; in favour of Catholic emancipation, the education of the poor, and the liberty of the press. He was always a zealous advocate for peace; against the system of the corn laws, and all restrictions on commerce, and he was in favour of an extensive change in the representation of the people, of shortening the duration of parliament, and ensuring the free exercise of the elective franchise. He was also in favour of the promulgation of laws, of allowing counsel to prisoners, of giving compensation to those who had been unjustly accused, of greatly extending the rules respecting the admission of evidence; of introducing secondary punishments, and of instituting a public prosecutor; and all this not more for the sake of humanity towards the guilty, than for the great ends of justice, the prevention of crime, and the reform of criminals.

At the conclusion of this parliament in 1818, Sir Samuel Romilly, after having again been invited to stand for several large constituencies, by any of which he was assured he would be elected, was at length put in nomination for Westminster; and although he was violently opposed by the court on the one side, and by the ultra popular party on the other; although, during the whole of the contest, he was calmly pursuing his professional duties in the Court of Chancery, and never once appeared on the hustings till the conclusion, he was returned at the head of the poll. After his election, he did all in his power to avoid the ceremony of chairing; but on his objections being over-ruled, his greatest pleasure was when, after he had addressed the multitude from the windows of Burlington House, he was able to escape by a back door and walk by the less frequented streets to his home, there to receive congratulations no less hearty, and more congenial to his temper and taste. But he did not live to take his seat. A life of uninterrupted and rarely equalled domestic happiness, and of great success in his professional and political career, was suddenly embittered by the loss of that being, to whom he had been deeply and devotedly attached for above twenty years, and with whom he had ever considered his happiness and prosperity as being indissolubly connected. He sank under this calamity, and mankind was deprived of his services for ever[6].

Footnote 6:

Strong symptoms of an incipient brain fever showed themselves, and
these increased so rapidly as to produce, before they could be
checked, a temporary delirium, as most frequently happens in that
malady; and in this paroxysm he terminated his existence, November 22,
1818, three days after Lady Romilly’s death.

Romilly was reserved and silent in general society, but affectionate, entertaining, and instructive with his friends; and full of joyousness, humour, and playfulness with his children, and in the bosom of his family. He was endowed with a lively imagination, he was fond of retirement, and was a passionate admirer of the beauties of nature. Indefatigable in his profession and in parliament, he yet found time to keep up with the literature of the day, to write criticisms on the books which he read, to keep a regular diary of his political career, and to compose essays on various branches of the criminal law. His eloquence was of that kind which never fails to make a lasting impression: it was full of earnest conviction and deep sensibility. He was a great master of sarcasm, but he considered it an unfair weapon and rarely employed it. So jealous was he of his independence, that when he was solicitor-general, and one of his nephews was peculiarly anxious to be placed in the Military Academy at Woolwich, he refused to lay himself under any obligation, even for so slight a favour; and the application was never made. Few ever gained so large a portion of public favour, and yet so studiously avoided courting popularity; and no one ever rose higher in the esteem of his political contemporaries. Unsullied in character as a lawyer, as a politician, and as a man, his life, which was prolonged to the age of sixty-one, was a life of happiness and of honour. No statues are erected to his memory; no titles descend to his children; but he has bequeathed a richer, a prouder, and a more lasting inheritance, than any which the world can bestow: the recollection of his virtues is still fresh in the minds of his countrymen, and the sacrifices he made in the cause of humanity will not be forgotten by mankind.

SHAKSPEARE.

The materials which we possess for the biography of Shakspeare are very unsatisfactory. The earliest life is that by the poet Rowe, who, as if aware of its scantiness, merely entitles it ‘Some Account.’ It contains what little the author could collect, when no sources of information were left open but the floating traditions of the theatre after the lapse of nearly a century. Mr. Malone prefixed a new life to his edition, extending to above 500 pages; but he only brings his author to London, and as to his professional progress, adds nothing to Rowe’s meagre tale, except some particles of information previously communicated in notes by himself and Steevens.

William Shakspeare was born at Stratford-upon-Avon in Warwickshire, April 23, 1564. He was one of ten children. His father was a dealer in wool, as it is generally said, but according to Malone, a glover, and alderman in the corporation of Stratford. Our great poet received such education as the lower forms of the Grammar School at Stratford could give him; but he was removed from that establishment at an early age, to serve as clerk in a country attorney’s office. This anecdote of his boyhood receives confirmation from the frequent recurrence of technical law-phrases in his plays; and it has been remarked that he derives none of his allusions from other learned professions. Before he was eighteen years of age he contracted a marriage with Anne Hathaway, a woman some years older than himself, and the daughter of a substantial yeoman in his own neighbourhood. He went to London about 1586, when he was but twenty-two years of age, being obliged, as the common story goes, to fly the country, in consequence of being detected in deer-stealing. This tale is thought to be confirmed by the ridicule cast on his supposed prosecutor, Sir Thomas Lucy, in the character of Justice Shallow, pointed as it is by the

_Engraved by E. Scriven._

SHAKSPEARE.

_From the Picture in the Possession of His Grace the Duke of
Buckingham, at Stowe._

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

_London, Published by Charles Knight, Ludgate Street. June 1, 1835._
]

commendation of the “dozen white luces as a good coat.” But as this is the only lawless action which tradition has imputed to one of the most amiable and inoffensive of men, we may perhaps esteem the tale to be the mere gossip of the tiring-room: indeed, Malone has adduced several arguments to prove that it cannot be correctly told. It is not necessary to suppose that Shakspeare was compelled to fly his native town because he came to the metropolis; his emigration is sufficiently accounted for by his father’s falling into distressed circumstances, and being obliged in this very year, 1586, to resign his alderman’s gown on that account. Another traditional anecdote, that Shakspeare’s first employment was to wait at the play-house door, and hold the horses of those who had no servants, is discredited by Mr. Steevens, who says, “That it was once the general custom to ride on horseback to the play I am yet to learn. The most popular of the theatres were on the Bankside; and we are told by the satirical pamphleteers of that time that the usual mode of conveyance to those places of amusement was by water; but not a single writer so much as hints at the custom of riding to them, or at the practice of having horses held during the hours of exhibition. Let it be remembered too, that we receive this tale on no higher authority than that of Cibber’s ‘Lives of the Poets.’”

Nothing is authentically proved with respect to Shakspeare’s introduction to the stage. His first play is dated by Malone in 1589, three years after the time assigned for the author’s arrival in London. It appears from the dedication to ‘Venus and Adonis,’ published in 1593, in which he calls that poem “the first heir of his invention,” that his earliest essays were not in dramatic composition. The ‘Lucrece,’ published in 1594, and the collection of sonnets, entitled the ‘Passionate Pilgrim,’ published in 1599, also belong to an early period of his poetical life. The ‘Lover’s Complaint,’ and a larger collection of sonnets, were printed in 1609. It may be conjectured that he was led to write for the stage in consequence of the advice and introduction of Thomas Green, an eminent comedian of the day, who was his townsman, if not his relation. Shakspeare trod the boards himself, but he never rose to eminence as an actor: it is recorded that the Ghost in ‘Hamlet’ was his masterpiece. But the instructions to the players in ‘Hamlet’ exhibit a clear and delicate perception of what an actor ought to be, however incompetent the writer might be to furnish the example in his own person.

The extent of Shakspeare’s learning has been much controverted. Dr. Johnson speaks of it thus: “It is most likely that he had learned Latin sufficiently to make him acquainted with construction, but that he never advanced to an easy perusal of the Roman authors. Concerning his skill in modern languages, I can find no sufficient ground of determination; but as no imitations of French or Italian authors have been discovered, though the Italian poetry was then high in esteem, I am inclined to believe that he read little more than English, and chose for his fables only such tales as he found translated.” Other writers have contended that he must have been acquainted with the Greek and Roman classics: but Dr. Farmer, in his ‘Essay on the Learning of Shakspeare,’ has accounted in a very satisfactory manner for the frequent allusions to the facts and fables of antiquity to be met with in Shakspeare’s writings, without supposing that he read the classic authors in their original languages. The supposition indeed is at variance with his whole history. Dr. Farmer has particularly specified the English translations of the classics then extant, and concludes on the whole, that the studies of Shakspeare were confined to nature and his own language.

The merit of Shakspeare did not escape the notice of Queen Elizabeth. He evinced his gratitude for her patronage in that beautiful passage in the ‘Midsummer Night’s Dream,’ where he speaks of her as “a fair vestal, throned in the west.”

Sheffield, Duke of Buckinghamshire, is the relater of an anecdote which shows the continuance of high favour to our author. It is expressed in these words: that “the most learned prince and great patron of learning, King James I., was pleased with his own hand to write an amicable letter to Mr. Shakspeare;” and Dr. Farmer supposes, with apparent probability, that this honour was conferred in return for the compliment paid to the monarch in ‘Macbeth.’ Shakspeare also possessed the esteem of, and was admitted to familiar intercourse with, the accomplished Earls of Southampton and Essex; and enjoyed the friendship of his great contemporary Ben Jonson.

Of the poet’s career before the London public nothing authentic has come down to us; and perhaps if more were known, it might not be worth recording. But his retirement in 1611 or 1612, about four years before his death, though it afford no story, furnishes a pleasing reflection. He had left his native place, poor and almost unknown: he returned to it, not rich, but with a competence and an unblemished character. His good-natured wit made him a welcome member of private society when he no longer set the theatre in a roar; and he ended his days in habits of intimacy, and in some cases in the bonds of friendship, with the leading gentlemen of the neighbourhood. He died on his birthday, April 23, 1616, when he had completed his fifty-second year. If we look merely at the state in which he left his productions, we should be apt to conclude that he was insensible of their value. To quote the words of Dr. Johnson, “It does not appear that Shakspeare thought his works worthy of posterity; that he levied any ideal tribute upon future times, or had any further prospect than that of present popularity and present profit.” But the imperfect form in which they came before the public is not necessarily to be accounted for by this extravagance of humility. It is clear that any publication of his plays by himself would have interfered at first with his own interest, and afterwards with the interest of those to whom he made over his share in them; besides which, such was the revulsion of the public taste, that the publication of his works by Hemings and Condell was accounted a doubtful speculation. For several years after his death the plays of Beaumont and Fletcher were more frequently acted than those of Shakspeare; and the beautiful works of the joint dramatists afterwards gave place to the rhyming rhapsodies of Dryden and the bombast of Lee. Garrick brought back the public to Shakspeare and every-day nature; Kemble exhibited him in the more refined dress of classical taste and philosophy.

Mr. Malone has observed, that our author’s prose compositions, should they be discovered, would exhibit the same perspicuity, the same cadence, the same elegance and vigour, which we find in his plays. In 1751, an attempt was made to impose on the public by a book entitled ‘A Compendious or Brief Examination of certayne Ordinary Complaints of divers of our Countrymen in these our Days, &c., by William Shakspeare, Gentleman;’ the signature to which, in the original edition of 1581, was “W. S., Gent.;” and Dr. Farmer has clearly proved the initials to mean “William Stafford, Gent.” Another and more impudent forgery was attempted by Ireland, who published in 1795 a volume, entitled ‘Shakspeare’s Manuscripts.’ The fraud met with partial success, and the tragedy of ‘Vortigern’ was performed as one of Shakspeare’s, to the great disgust, it is said, of John Kemble, who had to act in it much against his will. Malone exposed the imposition in 1796, and Ireland himself ultimately acknowledged it. With respect to the probable character of Shakspeare’s prose compositions, it is needless to speculate on it, as we have no reason to believe that he ever wrote any prose, except for the stage.

Some interesting criticisms of Mrs. Siddons on the chief female characters of Shakspeare will be found in the life of that eminent actress in this volume. We may here introduce another observation of hers on Constance in ‘King John.’ She said that the intuition of Shakspeare in delineating that character struck her as all but supernatural: she could scarcely conceive the possibility of any man possessing himself so thoroughly with the most intense and most inward feelings of the other sex: had Shakspeare been a woman and a mother, he must have felt neither less nor more than as he wrote.