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PREFATORY MEMOIRS

MEMOIR OF RICHARD WATSON, D. D.

BISHOP OF LANDAFF.

WERE it asked, what Theologian of recent times was most likely to have taken a liberal and manly, yet decidedly sound and scriptural, view of a great Christian question, I know not that any name would so readily occur, as that of Richard Watson. Now, by a sound view of a great question in Christianity, I mean one divested of all prejudices of profession, and all peculiarities of creed, and based on the sole glorious principle, Christ Jesus the Saviour of sinners, through whom alone life and immortality have been clearly brought to light. Few men, also, both from the temper of his mind and the nature of his studies, could sooner have detected illogical inferences in an argument, or have included in their premises a wider range of practical intelligence, than Bishop Watson; certainly, there never existed a man, the moral history of whose life gives higher assurance that he would fearlessly have declared what he conscientiously believed.

This distinguished divine, to whose labours such confidence thus attaches, was born at Heversham in Westmoreland, August, 1737. His father, Thomas Watson, had for forty years filled with reputation the head mastership of the grammar school there,—a situation which he resigned only a few months before our author's birth. The family, however, were originally from Hardindale near Shrop in the same county, where they possessed a small freehold estate. "When the Monastery of Shrop," says the bishop himself, "was dissolved by Henry VIII., of the thirteen monks who were in it, two had the name of Watson; these ecclesiastics were probably dedicated to the Church by some of my progenitors, and I can give no farther account of any of them, except I mention the tradition that the part of the family who settled near Shrop came from Scotland."

Richard being the youngest of three children, with a brother and sister grown up when he was born, and his father stricken in years, passed in some degree an isolated infancy. To his mother, whose maiden name was Newton, he has recorded, with filial gratitude, his obligations for having imbued his mind with those early impressions of piety and religion, whose comforts he enjoyed through life, and which in their fruits have bequeathed so valuable an inheritance to posterity. His education in other respects he received at the seminary over which his father had presided, but unfortunately under a successor very inferior, a disadvantage the effects of which, in his classical studies especially, he long felt, and perhaps never completely surmounted. To this school were attached two exhibitions of £50 per annum each, on one of which, at the age of seventeen, Watson was admitted a sizar of Trinity College, Cambridge, on the 3d November, 1754.

Endowed with great ardour of mind, and knowing that a small patrimony of £300 left by his father, with his own exerti ns, formed all his resources, the youth applied to study with untiring diligence. Within six months we find him already remarked in his college. The cause of this distinction, in his

own words, "was in itself perhaps trivial," but certainly influ enced in no small degree his future life, inasmuch as it directed his mind to metaphysical disquisitions. It happened at one of the public examinations, that he was asked "whether Clarke," (on the Attributes,) "had demonstrated the absurdity of an infinite succession of changeable and dependent beings? " Watson's reply in the negative, awakening the head lecturer's surprise, he was asked to explain, which he did, by objecting to the terms of the proposition, seeing there could be no origin in a series which by the supposition was eternal, neither could there be a first term, since it was assumed to be infinite. Though far from unexceptionable in metaphysical soundness, such a defence of an independent opinion, on a topic of this nature, indicated, in one so young, habits of intellectual exercise, much more surprising than the acuteness of the objection.

Observing that, by a very unjust distinction, sizars were regarded as occupying a less honourable position than the students holding college presentations, he resolved to sit for a scholarship. This he obtained, though sustaining the competition a year earlier than usual, and in so creditable a manner, as introduced him to the particular notice and friendship of Dr Smith, then master of Trinity. He had now resided two years and seven months at college, without having spent a single entire day beyond its walls. By way of relaxation, he went to visit his elder brother, then one of the clergymen at Kendal. This excursion afforded him but a scanty pleasure. His brother, of whom, from their disparity of years, he previously knew little, he found a man of lively parts, but in a situation affording little room for the exercise of talent, and "much temptation to convivial festivity." Accordingly, after a few months' residence he returned to college, with a determination of making his alma mater the mother of his fortunes. It deserves, however, to be mentioned here, that ten years afterwards, this brother died of an impaired constitution, and ruined in fortune. Dr Watson instantly, and with no claim upon him to do so, discharged the debts of his unfortunate relative, though at the sacrifice of almost all he himself possessed.

In January, 1759, he took his first or bachelor's degree. This, in order the first of college honours, is also the highest in estimation with candidates for academic distinction. It fixes a man's character in the University; and all the objects of subsequent ambition, are in their main point affected by this trial. Mr Watson was declared only second wrangler of his year. To one who looked upon his college as his "sole world," for exertion, and for recompense, this must at first have proved a sore disappointment. The general sense of the examiners, however, was in favour of our author's claims to the first honours, which by the Moderator were awarded to a pupil of his own. Accusations of partiality can more easily be brought against men in such situations, than proved, but here the injustice appears to have been so marked, that "it was remembered as long as Mr Watson lived in the university, and the

talk about it at the time did him more service than if he had been made senior wrangler.' When afterwards Moderator himself, he introduced the present system of classing and examining candidates, in presence of each other, which at Cambridge renders marked partiality in the distribution of honours almost impossible.

While an under graduate, we are informed, on his own authority, that his application was never very uniform nor strictly continuous; but in its results it was unquestionably very satisfactory, and must have occasionally been intense. He aspired to keep the best company, which at college does not always mean the most studious. The principle, however, is a good one, provided we ourselves make the discrimination maintained by the author of the Apologies: "I had," says he, "a strong ambition to be distinguished, and was sensible that, though wealth might plead some excuse for idleness, extravagance, and folly in others, the want of wealth could plead none for me." Accordingly, the gay manners of his fashionable associates never subdued his prudence, never seduced him from the high resolve of winning for himself that honourable distinction denied him by fortune. returning from some gay party, at one or two in the morning, he would often notice lights in the apartments of more recluse if not cleverer students than himself: "This never failed to excite my jealousy, and the next day was always a day of hard study."-"Hundreds of times" would he thus continue in close application for the entire day, regardless of exercise or even of food.

On

It was at this period his custom to devote the mornings to mathematics, and the evenings to the classics, a distribution of time to which he continued to adhere, so far as other avocations would permit. His method of mathematical study had something of singularity. It was his constant practice to consider a difficult proposition while walking in the open air, without book or diagram, until every step in the demonstration had become perfectly familiar from the "air-drawn" scheme in his own thoughts. In the higher departments of geometry and physics, this must often have proved no easy task, and he confesses having more than once thus laboured for three days at a single step in the induction. It was a principle with him "never to give up a difficult point, till he had made it his own proprio marte."

To the classics his application was almost equally assiduous, and it was his constant practice to commit to memory such portions of the Greek and Roman orators as particularly pleased his judgment or gratified his taste. The latter appears, however, to have been rather peculiar,-certainly not in giving preference to Demosthenes, who exhibits in style and argument one of the best models for real business, but in preferring to all others, Tacitus as an historian, and Persius as a poet.

But neither his favourite mathematics, nor classical learning, could withdraw Mr Watson's attention from practical education. His example in this respect is deserving of close imitation by every one who desires the culture of the judgment to keep pace with the increase of knowledge. Every week he imposed upon himself the task of composing a dissertation on a given subject, either in English or Latin. The topic was usually historical, suggested in the ordinary course of miscellaneous reading. The latter seems to have been pretty extensive; and from some of the works mentioned as his favourites, we may trace the origin of some peculiar notions on certain points. Clever young men, when left much to themselves in this respect, are more apt, in politics and literature, to be led away by what sounds well, than to prefer what is sound.

A few months after having taken his first degree, our author sat for a fellowship. This was a proceeding so unprecedented in the routine of the university, that no junior bachelor had ever been elected. Next year, however, in October, 1760, he was elected fellow of Trinity, in preference to two seniors of the same year, with this flattering remark from the master, "You have done your duty to the college, it remains for the college to do theirs to you.' His next step made him one of the tutors, for he had already become remarked as a teacher; and five years afterwards, he took his degree of Master of Arts. In the interval he had two eligible situations offered to him, - the curacy of Clermont, and the chaplaincy to the Factory of Bencoolen. This latter appointment he was inclined to have accepted, with a view to the facility afforded of studying the

oriental languages, and of rising in the Anglo-Indian Church. But his old friend, the master of Trinity, sent for him, and insisted on his resigning all thoughts of the situation, adding, "You are far too good to die of drinking punch in the torrid zone." In 1764, our author was unanimously elected to the profes sorship of chemistry. Hitherto this had been little better than a nominal chair, both as regarded emoluments and academical study. But the practical importance of chemical science becoming daily more apparent, he resolved on rendering his new office equally advantageous to himself and to the university. At the time of his election, as he candidly confesses, he was entirely ignorant of chemistry,— "I had never read a syllable on the subject, nor seen a single experiment in it; but I was tired with mathematics and natural philosophy, and the ' vehementissima gloriæ cupido' stimulated me to try my strength in a new pursuit, and the kindness of the university (it was always kind to me) animated me to extraordinary exertions." It must, however, be confessed, that these were no very favourable recommendations, and that in almost any other case the university would have done wrong in appointing a candidate to a chair, because tired of doing what he had done well, and anxious to exchange a charge which he understood, for one of which he knew nothing. But that candidate was no ordinary man. He instantly set about his new duties with all his wonted energy. France had then far the lead of Europe in a science which British talent has since so decidedly rendered our own. Dr Watson, therefore, sent to Paris for an operator, buried himself as many hours in his laboratory as other duties permitted, and in fourteen months from his appointment read a course of chemical lectures that still form an era in the science of Cambridge. In this new career he shewed himself, as in all his undertakings, a profound investigator, intimately studying particular phenomena; but, as a teacher, chiefly solicitous to bring forward only large practical views. One of his applications of chemical science, on an apparently very simple process, that of burning charcoal for gunpowder in close cylinders, is said to have saved annually £100,000 to the country during the late war. Nor should the native independence of his mind be here forgotten, in reference to his salary as professor of chemistry. To this chair, no permanent emolument being attached, the university furnishing only a class-room, he applied to the crown, through his friend Mr Luther, who had recently expended £20,000 in establishing the whig interest in Essex. £100 per annum, in the shape of salary, was the whole amount asked; and the Duke of Newcastle, ther. chancellor of the university, undertook to procure it from the Rockingham administration. Having provided the necessary credentials, he forwarded them in March; but had heard nothing of the matter till the July following, when waiting upon the Duke, his grace asked him whether the affair had been arranged. "No," replied the uncompromising chemist,

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do I think it ever will be done." "But why," inquired the duke, "has it not been done?" "Because," returned the professor, "Lord Rockingham says, your grace, as chancellor of the university, ought to speak to the king; and your grace says, that Lord Rockingham ought to speak to the king as minister.' The sequel is thus graphically detailed by the bishop himself: "He stared at me with astonishment; and calling for paper, he instantly wrote a letter, and sealing it with his own seal, ordered me to go with it to Lord Rockingham, who had a levee that day. I did so; it was the only time in my life that I ever attended a minister's levee, and sent in my letter before the levee began; and understood it was whispered, that Lord Rockingham and the whigs were to go out of administration; and it was so, for their dismission was setttled that day. Lord Rockingham, however, undertook to ask the king, and apologizing for not having done it sooner, offered, in a very polite manner, to have the stipend (I asked only £ 100 a-year) settled upon me for life. This I refused, and desired to have it only so long as I continued professor of chemistry, and discharged the duties of the office." The fact of the minister wishing to bestow a new sinecure on the very day of his dismission, is not the least characteristic trait in this transaction.

For three years more Dr Watson continued to prelect from the chemical chair with the same distinguished success. His exertions at this period are certainly calculated to astonish weaker or less ardent spirits. For months and years together

he began his public labours at eight in the morning, frequently reading three public lectures in Trinity College, spending four or five hours with private pupils, and, at least, five or six more in his laboratory every day. These were his stated duties, beside incidental engagements in presiding as moderator at public examinations in the schools. In 1768, he printed, but did not publish, his Institutiones Metallurgica, a work which, considering the state of knowledge at that period, presents a very meritorious attempt to impart a scientific form to chemistry. About the same time he was elected a member of the Royal Society, and next year published his celebrated assize sermon, delivered at Cambridge, and printed at the request of the presiding judge. "At the time this sermon was preached, government was greatly relaxed; and mobs, which I ever detested-thinking senseless popularity beneath the notice of genuine whiggism—were very rife in favour of Mr Wilkes. But though I detested his mobs, I did not dislike his cause, judging that the constitution was violated in the treatment he received, both from the King's Ministry and the House of Commons." These sentiments were probably right as then held by the writer, though they are certainly not those of the party now. what has the pulpit to do with politics? If therefore, as his friends complained, this sermon, and similar others, like stationary clouds, interposed between their author and the sunshine of royal patronage, the fact of appearing as a party preacher, rather than being a party man, occasioned the disappointment of those hopes which talents and integrity give to every citizen in this country a right and an encouragement to cherish.

But

In October, 1771, the divinity chair in the university became vacant by the death of Dr Rutherford. This, which has been called the first "professional chair in Europe," had long been the secret object of Dr Watson's ambition. But the vacancy now took place so prematurely and unexpectedly, as necessarily brought him forward under the most unpromising circumstances. His attention had been, for many years, more immediately directed to other pursuits; he had, at no time, discovered any marked predilection for theological science, nor had he even taken the requisite honours in divinity. Such, however, was the estimation in which his talents were held, that ordinary forms being dispensed with, he was unanimously elected, at the age of thirty-four, to the most important office in the gift of the university.

To the duties of his distinguished situation Dr Watson applied so intensely, that his application at this period is believed to have permanently affected his health. The readiest, and perhaps the best proof of the success of his prelections, is to be found in the fact, that while the chair had produced to former incumbents barely 300 guineas yearly, he raised its value to fully £1000. Of his system of inquiry and instruction, he has himself left the following account:-"I reduced the study of divinity into as narrow a compass as I could, for I determined to study i nothing but my Bible, being much unconcerned about the opinions of councils, fathers, churches, bishops, and other men, as little inspired as myself. This mode of proceeding being opposite to the general one, procured me the name of AUTOdidaXTOS-the self-taught divine. The professor of divinity had been nick-named Malleus Hereticorum - the hammer of heretics. It was thought to be his duty to demolish every opinion which militated against what is called the orthodoxy of the Church of England. Now, my mind was wholly unbiassed; I had no prejudice against - -no predilection for the Church of England; but a sincere regard for the Church of Christ, and an insuperable objection to every degree of dogmatical intolerance. I never troubled myself with answering any arguments which the opponents in the divinity schools brought against the articles of the Church, nor ever admitted their authority as decisive of a difficulty; but I used, on such occasions, to say to them, -holding the New Testament in my hand, — En sacrum codicem ! There is the fountain of truth, why do you follow the streams derived from it by the sophistry, or polluted by the passions of man? If you can bring proofs against any thing delivered in this book, I shall think it my duty to reply to you. Articles of churches are not of divine authority, have done with them; for they may be true-they may be false ; appeal to the book itself."

"This method of disputing," our author rather tauntingly admits, gained him no credit with the hierarchy." But, with

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submission, were the heads of the Church wrong in regarding, with qualified approbation, such a system of study, recommended by a professor of divinity in one of the first universities in the world? In a teacher occupying so dignified and so responsible a situation, much more is expected and is necessary, than would be highly respectable in a simple Christian divine. Now, though Dr Watson unquestionably possessed the requisite knowledge of the literature, as well as of the doctrines of our faith, was his plan of decrying the fathers, and the originals of ecclesiastical history, the best adapted for improving the learning of the Church? The character of every establishment of religion depends upon two essentials, the piety and the attainments of its clerical members. The former depends merely upon themselves; for the latter they must, in the first instance, be indebted to their teachers. Perhaps, indeed, the professor of divinity foregoes the most important privilege of his chair, when he fails to impress upon the minds of those committed to his charge, the future teachers and defenders of Christianity, a complete view of the literature and science of systematic theology. The lectures of the most eloquent professor can do but comparatively little towards forming accomplished pulpit orators. But the opportunity of being accurately informed of the sources, arrangement, and objects of professional learning, which attendance on the schools of divinity does afford or ought to supply, once lost, is irrecoverable. Future avocations, the necessity of providing discourses for constantly returning occasions of public ministrations, leave, for many years, no time for less urgent acquisitions; and when at length leisure does come, the early groundwork for its improvement is wanting. But it may be safely predicted, that as a popular theology shall prevail in our universities to the neglect of the theological erudition and literary accomplishments which should in a peculiar manner adorn the ministers of an establishment, the establishment itself will sink in respect, influence, and usefulness.

During several succeeding years, Dr Watson continued with unrelaxing assiduity and increasing success to discharge his various duties, both in the divinity chair and in the university. Nor was he inactive as a supporter of a certain line of principles in public life. But to his honour be it recorded, that neither now, nor at any time, was he a party man. His opinions were not rough-hewn, according to some general purpose, as materials for self-advancement, afterwards to be shaped and fitted, by each successive change in those to whom he might look as the architects of his fortune. No! In his own manly declaration, "He had never any wish but to speak what appeared to him to be the truth, and upon no occasion ever thought of pleasing any person or party;" adding, "if in any opinion I am in error, it is thus, at least, both involuntary and disinterested."

From such a man, and such a writer, we receive, with confidence and complacency, a demonstration of his own belief, that "the Holy Scriptures," in the words of Locke, "especially the New Testament, have God for their author, salvation for their end, and truth, without any mixture of error, for their matter." To such a Christian, who does not willingly admit his own peculiar debt of gratitude for the Apologies" for Christianity and its Documents?

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Our narrative has now conducted us to the publication of the first of these works, here presented to the reader. During the winter 1775-6, appeared the first volume of Gibbon's Roman History. The 15th and 16th chapters of that elaborate production (as every reader knows) contain a covert attack on the Christian faith. The rapid progress of a religion, whose purity and gentleness, selfdenying principles, and sin-denouncing requirements, drew upon its professors the hatred and persecution of a proud world lying in wickedness, had always been held an evidence of its divine origin, God protecting that which was his own. Gibbon was the first in this country who ventured, in a systematic argument, to assail this truth. He does so insidiously. Pretending to admit the supremacy of a heavenly power accompanying the first preaching of the Gospel, he so manages his statements, that the unwary reader finds himself insensibly conducted to the conclusion, that the necessary operation of five secondary causes, assumed by the historian, are sufficient to account for the speedy propagation, and final reception, of Christianity, as the established worship of the Roman Empire.

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