happy here and happy hereafter. After this sermon, he was treated kindly-no one was suffered to laugh at him, or use him ill, during the three weeks he remained on board.

"His return home to his parents was occasioned as follows:-a dissenting minister at Clapham, happening to call in at his mother's shop, found her weeping, and in great distress. On his kindly asking the cause, she informed him that her child had left home, and she knew not what was become of him. He endeavored to pacify and comfort her with the hope that the Lord would restore him to her; and then inquired where she thought he was gone. She replied Why, we think to the West Indies He has felt much and talked much about the poor blacks lately, from having read Mr. Clarkson's book about them.' O come, my good woman,' he rejoined, take comfort. I am intimate with the captain of the Port Admiral's ship, at Plymouth. I live at Clapham. Should you hear of your son, let me know.' In about three weeks, a letter was received from Joseph-his parents informed the minister-he wrote to the captain, and Joseph was soon sent home with a new suit of clothes, money in his pocket, and his carriage paid by coach."-pp. 2, 3.

filled his school; but, as might have been expected, left his income scarcely adequate to his own board and comforts.

As the number of his pupils increased, a new schoolroom became necessary. It was provided, chiefly through the benevolent aid of the late Duke of Bedford and Lord Somerville, "who," says Lancaster," appeared to be sent by Providence to open wide before me the portals of usefulness for the good of the poor." "The children," he adds, "now came in for education like flocks of sheep; and the number so greatly increased, as to place me in that state which is the mother of invention. The old plan of education, in which I had been hitherto conversant, was daily proved inadequate to the purposes of instruction on a large scale. In every respect I had to explore a new and untrodden path. My continual endeavors have been happily crowned with success."

[Here the reviewer gives a long account of the origin of the controversy between Bell and Lancaster, which we omit.]

With renewed pleasure we now resume the narrative of Lancaster's progress, associated as his efforts ever must be with the subsequent spread of Between this period, and that of his attaining knowledge, the growth and enlargement of the the age of eighteen, he seems to have been an as- popular mind, and the moral and intellectual imsistant at two schools, one a boarding, the other a provement of the laboring classes of society in day school; and thus, as he afterwards states in a these realms. Even his enemies were constrained letter to Dr. Bell, he became acquainted with all to allow (no mean praise) that to him-to his the defects attendant on the old system of tuition" zeal, ingenuity and perseverance," were to be in both kinds of schools. At eighteen he commenced teaching on his own account in his father's house, and the following description of the undertaking, extracted from an old report of the Borough Road School, is from his own pen. It refers to the year 1798.

attributed the awakening of the public mind to the duty of caring for the instruction of the poor, and the exhibition of an agency by which it could be promptly, economically, and efficiently accomplished.

We left him busy in the new room for which he was mainly indebted to the late Duke of Bedford-a thousand children daily gathering for instruction, and a few friends supporting him by their annual subscriptions. Nothing can be more beautiful than the account given of his position and character at this time. He was always domesticated with his pupils. In their play hours he was their companion and their friend. He accompanied them in bands of two, three, and (on one occasion) of five hundred at once, to the environs of London for amusement and instruction.

"A season of scarcity brought the wants of poor families closely under my notice: at this time a number of very liberal persons enabled me Nor did he care only for their intellectual necesto feed the hungry children. In the course of sities. Distress and privation were abroad-he this happy exertion, I became intimately ac- raised contributions, went to market, and, between quainted with the state of many industrious poor the intervals of school, presided at dinner with families, whose necessities had prevented the pay-sixty or eighty of the most needy of his flock. ment of the small price of their children's tuition," The character of benefactor he scarce thought some of whom had accumulated arrears for many about; it was absorbed in that of teacher and weeks. In every such case I remitted the arrears friend. On Sunday evenings, he would have large and continued the children's instruction free of expense.

The state of the poor, combined with the feelings of my mind, had now blended the pay school with a free school. Two benevolent private friends had been in the habit of paying for five or six poor children at the low price I had fixed as the assize of education or mental bread for my neighborhood. I easily induced these friends to place the money they gave, as pay, in the form of a subscription." -pp. 6, 7.

On the outside of his schoolroom he placed the following printed notice:-"All that will may send their children and have them educated freely; and those that do not wish to have education for nothing, may pay for it if they please." This

companies of pupils to tea, and after mutually enjoying a very pleasant intercourse, would conclude with reading a portion of the sacred writings in a reverential manner. Some of the pupils would vary the exercise occasionally by reading select pieces of religious poetry, and their teacher would at times add such advice and observations, as the conduct of individuals, or the beauty and importance of the subject required. Is it any wonder that with pupils so trained, to whom so many endearing occasions presented, evidences should abound of affection, docility and improvement? In them he had many ready coöperators, and, however incapable of forming designs, never were agents more prompt and willing to execute." These were his best and most joyous days.

To his enthusiastic and imaginative temperament things innumerable present themselves as signal interferences." He "wonders at Providence" every step he takes. His friends will see At this time money appeared to him to be flow- "wonders next spring." The invisible power of ing in, in a perpetual stream. Unaccustomed to God goes through him "far more sensibly than its management, and ignorant of its value, he ex- the circulation of blood through his veins." He pended it with thoughtless profusion, if not with is at Dover, and after attending two public meetsinful extravagance. He was, in fact, at this pe-ings on education, holds a private conference with riod in so high a state of excitement as to be a select party; serious conversation takes place; totally unfit to manage his pecuniary affairs. "a solemn covering" comes over them-" it

seemed a power almost apostolic. After standing character we are indebted to a manuscript commuan hour amongst them, he closes with solemn nication from himself, which has been kindly prayer, "going boldly to the throne of grace in placed in our hands in order to enable us to comthe sacred and powerful name of Jesus." He car-plete the sketch we have undertaken. ries the same spirit into the world with him, and applies it, without discrimination, to his pecuniary circumstances. He is pressed for money, but he cannot believe that, "if the Almighty has designed the education of the poor of London, a few poor pitiless creditors can prevent it;" only let the eyes of his friends be opened, and they will see the mountain full of horses of fire, and of chariots of fire, round about Elijah." He is in "watch and ward" arrested for debt, and in a spunging-house; he has been there three days, and no one has been to see him but he is "as happy as Joseph was in the king's prison in Egypt." Corston visits him, and stays an hour or two with him. "After my departure," he

says:

On his arrival in the States he was everywhere welcomed and honored as the friend of learning and of man. His lectures were numerously attended, and, for a time, all appeared to go well with him. But his popularity rapidly decayed. Rumors of debt and of discreditable pecuniary transactions in England, soon followed him; sickness, severe and long continued, wasted his family; and poverty, with her long train of ills, overtook him. Under these circumstances he was advised to try a warmer climate, and an opening having presented itself in Caraccas, he was assisted by his friends to proceed thither. He went with his son-in-law and daughter, (who afterwards settled in Mexico,) and, to use his own words, was kindly received-promised great things, honored with the performance of little ones," and

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indignation at the breach of all the promises made to him-was glad to leave his family, and escape with his life. This was accomplished by a hasty flight into the interior, from whence he subsequently reached the sea shore, and embarked in a British vessel bound for St. Thomas.

During his stay in Caraccas he had entered a second time into the marriage state, and his account of the performance of the ceremony is curious, as being probably the only instance yet on record, of a Quaker wedding in South America.

"He rang for the sheriff's officer, to take him to the Bench; but obtained leave to call at home after expressing, in no measured terms, his on their way thither. When he got home, his wife and child, and all his young monitors, were assembled, overwhelmed with grief because he was going to prison. After being with them a little, he opened the parlor door, and said to the man, Friend, when I am at home, I read the scriptures to my family; hast thou any objection to come in?' He replied, 'No, sir,' and went in. After he had read a chapter or two, he went to prayer. The man soon became deeply affected, and joined the common grief. After prayer the man returned into the other room, and Joseph in The party met in Lancaster's school-room. At a few minutes said to him, 'Now, friend, I am the time appointed General Bolivar with his leadready for thee.' They had not gone many paces ing officers and a large party of gentry and merfrom the door, when the man said, 'Sir, have you chants assembled. Bolivar's suite," he says, got no friend to be bound for you for this debt?" were extremely puzzled at the large maps, some Joseph replied, No, I have tried them all.' busying themselves with looking for Caraccas in Well,' replied the man, then I'll be bound for Asia and in Africa. The ceremony commenced you myself, for you are an honest man, I know.' by the whole party being requested to sit in He surrendered him at the King's Bench and they silence. After a time this was broken by a took his security for the debt. About ten o'clock notary, reciting the names and connexions of the the next morning, he came jumping into my ware- parties, and proclaiming that each had promised, house, Ludgate Hill, saying, Ah, friend William, in the fear of God, to take the other for better did I not tell thee that thou was not to assist me or worse, for richer or poorer,' and so on. The this time?"-pp. 35, 36. witnesses set their hands and seals to the contract-Bolivar signified his approval, and the marriage was regarded by all parties as binding.”

6

This arrest brought matters to a crisis. A friendly docket was struck against him, and his creditors were called together. The result was, After a short stay at Santa Cruz and St. that in 1808 his affairs were transferred to trus- Thomas, where again his lectures were attended tees a fixed sum was allowed for his private ex- by the governor and the gentry of the island, he penses a correct account of all receipts and ex- returned to Philadelphia. Again sickness overpenditures was for the first time kept; and shortly took him, and poverty, and much sorrow. In after an association was formed, originally entitled miserable lodgings, with an apparently dying wife, "the Royal Lancasterian Institution for promot- pinched by want, and pressed hard by difficulties ing the Education of the Children of the Poor," of every kind, he appealed to the benevolent, and and subsequently, for the sake of greater simplicity, in addition to other aid, obtained a vote of 500 comprehension, and brevity-the BRITISH AND FOREIGN SCHOOL SOCIETY.

dollars from the corporation of New York. This enabled him to take a small house, and to recover strength.

Lancaster's affairs were indeed transferred to trustees, but the man remained unchanged. He He now determined to return to England, and was still the victim of his impulses. The excite- all but agreed for his passage, when circumstances ment of his mind never subsided. The repression induced him to return through Canada. On his of his extravagance was to him an intolerable arrival at Montreal he commenced his lectures, and interference. One by one he quarrelled with his again for a time floated along the stream of popular friends; then separated himself from the institu- favor. His worldly circumstances improved, and tion he had founded; commenced a private board- he determined to give up the thought of returning ing school at Tooting; became still more deeply to England, and to settle in Canada. After a involved; went through the Gazette; and finally, time, and probably through his own folly, he wearied with strife and sorrow, sailed in the year 1818 for the new world.

For the few subsequent notices of his life and 12

L.

LIVING AGE.

VOL. V.

again sank, and then opened a private school for subsistence. In this school room he held "silent meetings" on "first days," sitting alone, while

his wife and family were gone to church. he subsequently gave to the Royal Naval School, "Here," he touchingly says, "I sometimes found and five other twelfths he transferred to the towns the chief things of the ancient mountains, and the of Edinburgh, Leith, Glasgow, Aberdeen, and precious things of the everlasting hills resting in- Inverness. His Scotch estates, producing a yearly deed on the head of Joseph, and on the crown of rental of about £400, he made over to trustees the head of him who was separated from his for the purpose of promoting and encouraging the brethren,' by distance-by faults-by circum-education of youth in Cupar Fife, subject to a stances and by the just but iron hand* of dis- miserable annuity of £100 per annum to his siscipline. I longed again and again to come more and more under the purifying and baptizing power of the truth which had been the dew of my youth, and the hope of all my life in its best moments, whether of sorrow or of joy."

The last letter received from him was addressed to Mr. Corston, from New York, and dated 21st of 9th month, 1838. He was then in the enjoyment of an annuity which had been raised for him in England, chiefly by the exertions of the friend to whom we have already referred. His mind at this time was evidently as wild as ever, and his energies unbroken. He is still ready to undertake "to teach ten thousand children in different schools, not knowing their letters, all to read fluently in three weeks to three months." The "fire that kindled Elijah's sacrifice," has kindled his, and "all true Israelites" will, in time, see it. And so he runs on.

But his career was rapidly drawing to a close. He had fully resolved on a voyage to England; but about a week before the affecting accident occurred which occasioned his death, he expressed some doubts on the subject, saying, "He knew not the reason, but he could not see his way clear in leaving America."

On the 23d of October, 1838, he was run over in the streets of New York; his ribs were broken, and his head very much lacerated. He was immediately taken to the house of a friend, where he died" without a struggle, in the fifty-first year of his age."

ter; £20 annually to six other persons; and £10 to Thomas Clark. His princely donation to St. Andrews proved most unfortunate; it involved him in disputes with the trustees, terminating only with his death, which took place at Cheltenham on the 27th of January, 1832, in the 79th year of his age. His remains were removed to London on the 9th of February, and deposited in Westminster Abbey on the 14th; the highest dignitaries of the church, and other eminent persons, attending as mourners.

The leading features of Dr. Bell's character have been so well portrayed by Mr. Bamford, that we cannot do better than extract from his "Notes." He is speaking of him as he appeared to the teachers with whom he constantly came in contact:

"Acting as general inspector of all the schools united with the society, and anxious for the diffusion of his system, he apparently sacrificed every comfort, by continuing to undergo, in traversing from school to school, great bodily exertions and great mental excitements. The gratification which he derived from the display of a particular kind of knowledge, from the reception of praise and respect, the tribute due to his discovery and public reputation, encouraged and fed his restless vanity to such a degree, that his feelings, unless relieved by indulgence, would have made him intensely miserable. He had become so accustomed to bustle and change, and to new faces with new admiration, that he could never be happy for any length of time in one place. His fame, too, was In 1830 the health of Dr. Bell decidedly failed; spread, and a monument of renown erected by the and in 1831, Sir Benjamin Brodie stated his agree-establishment of every school. The fervor of ment with Dr. Newell in the opinion, that the travelling, and the excitement of fresh company, nerves of the larynx were in a degree paralytic, were necessary to carry off that exuberance of as well as the organs of deglutition. His mind passion which, if not thus spent, would, I thinkwas, however, in full vigor, and his vanity as even if he were alone and in solitude-have accurampant as ever. "His money," says his biog-mulated and overflown in vehement and fiery fits. rapher, was now a burden to him." After Food, too, was continually required to nourish changing his mind again and again as to its disposal, he at length suddenly transferred £120,000 to trustees at St. Andrews for a projected college. He then wrote to Dr. Southey, requesting that he and Mr. Wordsworth would edit his works, and begging their acceptance of £2,000, and all ex-distant the place or unknown the applicants, no penses paid, and the expenses of those they might employ. Southey accepts the trust, and incidentally refers to his own declining strength. "I am old enough myself," he says, "to have the end of my journey in view, and to feel what a blessing it will be to escape from the cares of this world, throw off the burden of human infirmities, and be united in the kingdom of heaven with those dear ones who have gone before us.

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Dr. Southey very properly urged that as almost all his wealth had come from the church, some of it, at least, ought to return to it; and suggested to him a plan for augmenting poor livings. Dr. Bell at first seemed to acquiesce, but soon after altered his opinion. One twelfth of the amount he had placed in the hands of trustees (£10,000)

*He had been disowned by "the Friends" chiefly on account of his irregularities in money matters.

those notions of his self-importance which stationary friends, by too great intimacy, might neglect or refuse to gratify. It is true, that disregarding all personal care, and toil, and expense, wherever his services could be useful, however

self-considerations restrained his zeal, or came into competition with his eager desire to bring his system into public notice and favor, and to keep up its character and reputation with others. In process of time, however, this craving for admiration from diversity of persons increased into a strong and overpowering feeling. It was not surprising, therefore, that he wrought himself into a belief that, as he was signally appointed by Providence to be the means of bringing to light such an instrument for the education of the body of the people, and the consummation of the blessed Reformation, so it was his duty personally to give his assistance whenever it was desired or likely to advance his great object. Still, perhaps, it had been better for himself and the cause in which he was engaged, either to have confined his instructions to fewer places, or to have communicated them with more grace. Previously to his arrival

in any town he was, from his public character and "In his treatment of me," says that gentleman, his disinterested employment, regarded as highly" he exercised that mixture of severity and apas his own pretensions could desire; but a first or parent good-will which, however at times unpleassecond visit most commonly lessened the respect or ant to my feelings, had so much influence over me, checked the ardor of those who had given their that I adhered to him most exclusively; and as he time and money towards the establishment of the impressed upon me, looked upon all others who schools, and who found themselves and their labors spoke kindly to me, or wished me to seek some frequently depreciated, censured, and offended. relaxation, as insidious enemies. He professed to Many anxious friends of schools, who had wel- have no other object in view but my good; and by comed his coming, in the hopes of being assisted opening mysteriously to me the power of future and encouraged by the sanction of the discoverer patronage with the necessity of implicit reliance, 1 of the system they were patronizing, became dis- was encouraged to expect a reward proportionate gusted and disheartened, and have now either to any exertions I should make, however laborious given up their interest in schools altogether, or or supererogatory. To him, therefore, I devoted only attend in spite of the reflection that he, who myself. He found me docile, tractable, affectionshould best know and judge impartially, could find ate, and without guile or suspicion. He wished nothing to commend in their exertions. I do not to train me up in that exclusive attachment to him mean to say that he found fault where there was and his pursuits, which rendered me a useful and no reason; but his manner of examining schools, necessary instrument for his present purposes, and and addressing visitors and masters, was in general which would prepare me for any future operations. so opposite to the courteous and complacent be- He, therefore, exacted of me the prostration of the havior by which great men become beloved, that intellect, the affections, and the actions. All were many unkind feelings have been excited against to be at his disposal. Private views, and opinions, him which he might very easily not only have pre- and friends, were to be discarded; and with a pure vented, but in their place have established unal- admiration and dependence, I yielded myself loyed admiration. Instead of delivering his in- solely and wholly to his will. Severe and hard to structions and making his remarks in a gentle- endure was this course of discipline. He soon manly and conciliatory mode, so as to gain upon found that with the more gentle qualities of my adult masters by his suavity, his personal beha- nature, there were also united a warmth and vior was such that he was almost universally impetuosity of temper, with a pride of spirit, which dreaded and disliked. His treatment of them in could be with pleasure led by gentleness, but which their schools, in the presence of their pupils, was was fretted and wounded by harshness. But what frequently calculated to create any other senti- could the vain ebullitions of youth avail against ments than respect and attention. His conduct the cool and practised aims of age? By raising not only at the time alienated them from him, but expectations without directly promising-by manit created a dislike which embittered and rendered ifesting a parental care for my welfare, by professheartless all their subsequent endeavors. It might ing sincere regard, by holding up inducements and be commonly true that there was ground for his future advancement, by candidly and honestly tellobservations; but his style of talking to them, and ing me my faults, by an air of the strictest justice, his remarks, with a kind of boundless rage and by enforcing unequivocal veracity, and every moral bluster, were, in their estimation, not only unkind virtue, with a rigid industry, he bent and warped and unnecessary, but vexatious and oppressive. my mind to such a degree, that all my powers, These were evils which, in a great measure, he and thoughts, and sentiments, were employed exmight have avoided, without exhibiting less ear- clusively to please him, and fulfil his directions. nestness or producing less benefits; besides, clothed I viewed nothing in the world but through the as he was with authority, the tyranny was the speculum he presented. Of himself he gave me a more galling. picture which I loved. He represented himself as delighted with truth, a lover of candor, the patron of merit; and he signalized me out as his little Lake boy, his protegée, nay, as his son, whom he regarded and trained up as his own. This, notwithstanding the many bitter moments of disipline which were used to try me, could not but gain upon such a heart as mine, particularly so inexperienced a one.”

His passion for money was inordinate, and it deservedly brought upon him, especially in his management of Sherburn Hospital, annoyance and obloquy. His views of human nature were affected by this propensity, and were consequently low and

mean:

He never appears to have lived happily with his wife, and in June, 1812, a regular deed of separation was drawn up and finally executed. He nowhere exhibits amiability of character. Few, if any, loved him.

"He regarded money as the primum mobile, and only efficient stimulant in the world. He excited masters by a negative kind of threat. He did not say, 'Do this, and you shall have so much beyond your regular and fixed salary;' which at best might be barely sufficient to command the necessaries of life-but, 'Do this, or you shall be mulcted, or lose your situation.' He would have His vanity was prodigious: sometimes it is hatehad all the masters under such an arbitrary kind ful, sometimes amusing. Mr. Davies, his amanuof control, that if the school did not weekly and ensis, whom he would keep employed for months monthly increase in numbers, and order, and together almost night and day, apparently regardattendance, and improve in progress, the masters less of his health or comfort, having on one ocshould be subject to weekly and monthly fines, and casion written to him an account of the progress be paid according to the periodical state of the he was making in the wearisome task assigned school. I can do more,' said he to the Arch-him of compiling from an immense mass of papers bishop of Canterbury, taking a half-crown out of a complete edition of all the doctor's works, receives his pocket, I can do more with this half-crown than you can do with all your fixed salaries.'"

His treatment of Mr. Bamford shows how well he understood the art of managing men for selfish ends, and how unscrupulously he practised it :

the following consolation:-" Go on. You must be well aware how instructive, how exceedingly instructive your present task is to you, and must still further be when I come to criticise and correct all you shall do." Davies writes that he is at work