would have made a landscape engraver, so various and so versatile were his powers. In short, with a remarkably clear intellect, and an enthusiastic thirst of knowledge, his scientific attainments were intuitively rapid, and of the most various descriptions. The general praise (as we cannot but recollect here) has been so frequently bestowed on others, that to some readers it may appear no more than ordinary reputation; but of Wilson Lowry it is as literally true, as of Lord Verulam; for very few men have known so many arts and sciences, and known them so profoundly; so much so, that like that distinguished philosopher, he could converse with ingenious men of almost any profession, without its being discovered that he was not of that profession : wherefore, in mathematics, chemistry, optics, and the numerous train of arts and sciences that depend on these, such as mechanics, mineralogy, geology, perspective, algebra, in its analytical application to logic and mathematics, and the department of art to which he professionally attached himself, few men were his superiors, speaking severally of those branches of knowledge, and not many his equals. The present writer during this middle period of his life, belonged as well as he, to three distinct societies, of which the objects were philosophical discovery and discussion, and of which Lowry was decidedly the most efficient member, although Drs. Dinwiddie and Tilloch, as well as several other gentlemen of considerable scientific attainments, were of the fraternities. He became a Fellow of the Royal Society about twenty years ago, and of the Geological Society from the era of its institution, in both of which he was beloved and respected, and often consulted upon occasions interesting to the progress of knowledge. With the late Sir Jos. Banks, and Sir H. Englefield; and with the present Dr. Woolaston, Mr. Lee, Mr. Greenough, and other of the most learned members of those Institutions respectively, he was more particularly intimate: indeed from Sir Joseph's apparent friendship for him, and from the opportunities which that gentleman's ex perience and situation gave him of witnessing the merits of an artist, and the difficulties of climbing to an emi nence in science from "life's low vale," there were those who expected that the president of the Royal Society would have done himself the honour of bequeathing Mr. Lowry some mark of his regard; but they were mistaken. In his youth, and during the heyday of his life, he was also somewhat addicted to metaphysical disquisition —not that the employment of this term, addicted, is intended to convey the faintest shadow of reproach on those interesting studies, of which Lowrie was at that time fond, and in which he greatly excelled. With the writings of Hobbes, Collins, Hume, and Helvetius, he was intimately conversant. The writer of the present memoir has frequently heard him dispute with men of sense and erudition if a style of argument so mild as his, may be called disputing-and always with advantage. Collins and Helve tius were his chief authorities; but he reasoned for himself; was subtle without sophistry, and always, from conviction, on the side of necessity, in the great question concerning the foundation of morals. Latterly, however, since he became a member of the Royal Society, his mind has apparently interested itself more in the practical detail of science and the arts, and in imparting to others what he knew of these matters, which he always did most willingly. And, whether in lofty speculation he argued with the doctors, or instructed his pupils in the rudiments or minutia of mechanical or imitative art, his manner was ever kind-hearted and unassuming-as much so as if he was inquiring, or investigating a subject in concert with a circle of friends and by his own fire-side; and even when clearly victorious, he was the farthest of all men from appearing triumphant. The nearest approach to any thing of the kind that is remembered, happened upon an occasion of meeting Holcroft at the house of a mutual friend; when the two philosophers fell into conversation concerning Holcroft's favourite dogma that "all crime is It would seem as if-warned of the danger, more than convinced of the fruitlessness of abstruse metaphysics, and of what are termed politics-he had of late years desisted from these species of philosophising, and attached or restricted himself, more to the study of physics; being in fact, a quiet English subject, and an excellent practical christian, although not professing it. With this various proficiency, and this communicative urbanity of manners, his friendships and acquaintances among the learned in art and science, were numerous, as might be expected; and a large portion of the original matter, written for Dr. Rees' Cyclopædia, was supplied by Lowry's connexions. Being a sort of living Cyclopædia, he could doubtless have supplied many of them himself, in addition to his highly valued engravings; but this he ever avoided, as the present writer believes, further than revising, in a friendly way, what some of the Doctor's coadjutors had written. As he resembled Socrates in his style of reasoning, and in his dispassionate mildness of demeanor, so, like that great philosopher, he would not undertake to write any regular dissertations, conceiving himself not qualified in point of literary attainment. In fact, he was learned in things, rather than in words: but yet, this avoidance is on that very account to be regretted, for the men who write most for the real benefit of society, are those who, like Bacon and Selden, are knowing chiefly in these things. It is also to be regretted that no Xenophon has written his memorabilia. We have mentioned above, his numerous acquaintance among the learned. But there are those also, who, without being learned, would be thought so, and from this quarter, one tax of being eminent and liberally communicative, has, during the latter portion of Lowry's life, been somewhat unfeelingly exacted of him. He has been too much bindered in his valuable pursuits, by the idle obtrusions of dandy philosophers, and those dabblers in virtù and experimental philosophy who are scientific, just as honorary secretaries and unpaid magistrates are attentive to their duties: videlicit, only at their leisure. Such persons, of both sexes, will saunter in droves with their little cans, coming at every feasible opportunity to fill them at the accessible fountain of one who is habitually studious: and to drones and smatterers of this description, who contribute nothing to the general stock of knowledge, while their busy intermeddlings often retard the labours of others; if the Royal Society is not impervious, Lowry must have been but too far within their reach. In the year 1796 our artist married Rebecca Dell Valle, a lady of an ancient family-(the aunt, if we are rightly informed, of the late Mr. D. Ricardo, the political economist,)— who is become a public instructress of reputation, in the science of mineralogy, and is mistress of a valuable collection of minerals and fossils, formed and arranged for that purpose with the nicest discrimination and at a considerable expence, by her late husband. The offspring of this marriage, are, a son, who, having been well grounded in mathematical studies, is striving with considerable promise of success to follow in the steps of his father; and a daughter, who is already the authoress of an elementary treatise on mineralogy, which is esteemed among the best works of its kind., No artist was ever more free from low-minded jealousy. On the contrary, his mind was made of broad parts; and whatever feelings of rivalry, or hopes of professional superiority at any time possessed it, were of the most honourable kind, and tempered with the greatest deference for the attainments of other engravers, both cotemporaneous and deceased. He always appeared to see more merits in their works and far less in his own than impartial justice would warrant. If his estimates as an artist were ever incorrect, it was in these respects, and in these only. Moreover it is believed that those engravers of the present day who excel in the treatment of ruíned edifices, as well as those who are famed for their engravings of finished architecture and apparatus, will readily acknowledge their deep obligations to Lowry's instructions, which were always freely and liberally imparted; and to his example, which was of course available to all: and that England hence derives in a great measure, her superiority over the engravers of the continent. These also, study and emulate his works, but, wanting that local information which he orally and most readily imparted, they imitate his style with less happy success than the artists of our own island. GREENWICH HOSPITAL. SECOND-HIM heart-him! Why, 25 ATHENEUM VOL. 2. 2d series. are, and fish it aboard." But you'll say, what has all this to do with the Barge's Crew; steer a straight course, and don't yaw about to every point of the compass, like a Dutchman. All in good time, Mr. Editor, don't get in a passion, I'm only trying my trim: for, of all my consarns, I loved the Barge the best, particularly when I pulled the stroke oar, and Nelson's flag was flying in the bows, though he didn't live to carry it without the balls; I was with him that ere time up the Mediterranean, when poor Carraciolli was executed through the cruelty and intrigues of Lady →→→. That's a distressing story, and some day, when I'm in the mood, I'll tell you all about it; for I never shall forget seeing the old man, with his grey locks flowing over his shoulders, as he hung at the foreyard-arm of the Neapolitan frigate. It is an awful spectacle, (whispered Ned Kentledge, as he bent down to his oar;) and I never believed before that woman's heart could exult in such a scene." Poor Ned was a worthy fellow, he had the next thwart to me; and Sam Spritsail was alongside of him, for we pulled double-banked. Ned was shipmate with Jack Gthat was afterwards first lieutenant of the C frigate; indeed, Ned my Jack, so you let him know I'm here." The captain and nearly the whole of the officers were walking the quarter deck, when the first Lieutenant, hearing a confusion at the gangway, came forward to see what the bobbery was-"What's this noise, here, Sentry; who's that alongside ?" "I don't know, Sir; it's some old girl says she wants her Jack." The Lieutenant looked into the boat; but no sooner had he cotched sight of the little punchy dame, than the manropes slid through his hand, and down he jumped into the cockle-shell"What, my mother, is it you? (cried he,) I can hardly believe my eyes; they told me you were all dead; this this is indeed a welcome surprise; but come along, old lady, mount-areeveo" and he helped her up the side with the utmost care and attention. As soon as they had reached the deck, she threw her arms round the Lieutenant's neck, and sobbed with joy. Then she gazed at him with a mother's pride, and again folded him to her heart-"Oh! my Jack, my Jack; now you glad my ould heart, and I shall follow your poor father to the grave in peace." The captain, offi taught him his duty from first to last, when he warnt much higher than a pint pot-showed him how to hand, reef, and steer-sweep, swab, and swear-coil away a cable, or clear hawser, with any hand aboard; and Ned was as good a seaman as ever raised a mouse upon a stay, or seized a breeching to a ring-bolt. Well, Jack was a smart fellow, and so he got promoted to the quarter-deck; and after a time the Captain got a lufftackle to bear, and bowsed out a commission for him; but he never forgot his old station, his promotion didn't spoil him, and he always remembered former messmates. When he got to be first lieutenant of the C-, she was a long time in Ingee; but at last they found her in such a rattle-trap state, that she was ordered to take convoy to England; and so she gather'd 'em together at Ceylon, and proceeded to St. Helena; but the storms off the Cape shook her ould timbers, that when they reached the island every body thought she would have gone down; however, they frapped her to gether with hawsers, and at last reached Plymouth. Well, a morning or two after their arrival, an ould Bumboat woman comes paddling along-cers, and men, started with astonishside, puffing and blowing like a grampus off Cape Horn. She was a short bulky body, though for the matter o' that she was as round as a tun butt. Alongside she comes, and hails the sentry at the gangway: "Keep off! (cried the Marine, and then turning to the quarter-master,)-Zounds! look there, did you ever see such a corporal substance ?"-"Aye, aye, (rejoined the veteran,) 'tis a whale adrift in a butter-boat.”—Again the old girl hailed, "Is my Jack aboard ?" "Your Jack, (replied the Sentry) who the botheration's your Jack ? -we are all Jacks here." "No, you arnt, (says she,) for you're a pike; and so please to answer the question I axed you, or else my Jack 'll let you know who's who." "Here, master at arms, (he chuckle-ated the royal), here's a customer for you, she's too sharp for me." "What do you want, old oo-man, (enquired the latter;) do you want any one in this ship ?" "Yes, I wants ment to see the round little personage in her striped cotton jacket, short thick petticoats, and high heeled shoes, hugging their first Lieutenant (dressed in full uniform) round the neck; and many began to laugh, but the working of nature cannot be suppressed; the Lieutenant felt it no disgrace to be born of honest, though poor parents; and the rich feeling of filial love flowed without restraint. That moment was perhaps one of the happiest of his life. He thought only of his mother, and repaid her caresses with interest. The scene was truly affecting. The rising laugh was entirely subdued, and many a furrowed cheek was moistened by a tear. It taught a useful lesson to the young officers, who witnessed the affectionate emotion of the parent and the dutiful conduct of the son. Peace be to their memory. The diamond will sparkle, however roughly set; and if to snatch from oblivion one example worthy of imi tation be meritorious-but there, 'tis only my duty, and I arnt much skilled in simper-thetics. The Lieutenant was worthy of his teacher, for never was there a nobler soul than Ned's. He was a great favourite with Nelson (and died in the Victory on the selfsame day,) though the hero was more attached to Sykes than any of us, and mayhap he deserved it. Now for Sam Spritsail: Poor Sam was a lighthearted easy-going blade, never without a smile-indeed, they said he was born laughing. Blow high, blow low, 'twas all the same to him; but he didn't stop long in the ship; he was picked out for the long-shore party that was to go bush-fighting with the French. Well, d'ye see, one of the officers of the C- -not knowing the cut of his jib, and being unaccustomed to see a man always happy under every privation, took it into his head one day that Sam was ridiculing him, and so he ordered the Boatswain's mate to give him a starting with a rope's end. This almost broke his heart. 'Twas the first blow he had ever received in a man-of-war; and the deep indignity so preyed upon his mind, as almost to stupify him. A day or two afterwards the party received orders to storm a fort near Capua, and Sam prepared to do his duty; but there was a listless indifference in his manner, that ill accorded with his former spirit. They advanced to the attack and a very smart scrummaging took place; but a fresh body of troops poured in, and the boarding party were compelled to retreat. The Lieutenant (the same as had ordered the punishment) behaved most gallantly, and kept in the wake of his men, while they were retreating. On turning an angle of the battery, the enemy opened upon 'em with a long 24-pounder that did very great execution, and Mr. at the second fire, fell. Sam, in an instant, hove all aback. He saw the officer fall-his daring intrepidity returnedand he rounded to, to pick him up. He did not know who it was at first; but when he looked on his face, resentment for a moment deadened the feelings of generosity and humanity, so that he returned several paces after his shipmates. The French were close upon them. In a few minutes the wounded man would have been in their power. Again Sam looked round, rushed back to the spot, and, stooping to raise the Lieutenant from the ground, received a mortal wound in the chest, and fell upon him. The last effort of struggling nature roused him up; he sprang upon his feet, lifted the officer in his arms, and ran towards his companions, who faced instantly about, resolving either to succour him or perish. He reached their centre, gently laid his burthen down, faintly uttered "I have done my duty!" and expired. The whole detachment paused for an instant, then came to the charge, drove back their pursuers, and in another half hour the British union waved on the rampart of the fort. Where could there be a death more glorious? I say, Mr. Editor, his memorial shall live in your columns; and if it should meet the eye of any who were present on that day, they will shed a tear of grateful remembrance, and glory in poor Sam. After he left us, his birth was filled up by Jack Junk, a sly old codger, with a comical nose, a half squint with one eye and a whole squint with the other, so that he could see half a dozen ways at once. He was a famous hand to look out for a fleet, and none could beat him at making signals; why he could use two spy-glasses at once. Jack had been shipmate along with Bill C-, him as played Lord II the trick with the goose, and that war'nt the only one. At the short peace, Billy (who always messed with the Admiral when at home) axed leave of absence from the house to go and visit some of his family relations that lived down to the northward. Now Lord H-'s moorings was very near Portsmouth; so the old gemman, in the goodness of his heart, granted his request, and gave him a liberty ticket for 591., and a fine clean-going, neat-rigged bay horse to carry him. Away posts Billy for London, intending to stop only one night, and then haul his wind for Yorkshire; and somehow or other H |
