CHAPTER VI.

“It is a pity that every good man is not also a learned and clever man. I was sorry to find that the Lord Mayor, whom I expected to be a first-rate speaker, was very deficient even in common grammar;but, nevertheless, such a man is of more service to the great cause of liberty than a hundred of your place-hunters, let their delivery be ever so elegant, and their grammar ever so correct.”On June 30th he visited Chantrey’s studio:—“I left the Gallery with very great regret, and I am sure that I was sincere when I told Mr. Whitwell [the friend who had introduced him] that to him I was obliged for the greatest gratification I ever received.”The following evening he started for the Isle of Wight:—“I left London at six in the evening for Southampton. The road lay through Brentford and Staines. Near to the latter place, in a field, I saw the place where King John signed ‘Magna Charta.’ The spot is marked by a sun-dial. I was glad to hear some of the passengers give it as their opinion that something of the kind was wanting now.“As soon as it became light, we enjoyed most delightful views of a richly-wooded country. The trees in Hampshire are the largest I ever saw, and the country is almost covered with what we consider large woods. There is not a finer sight in the world than to be elevated above an extensive wood, and to see the trees extending as far as the eye can reach, till they become scarcely distinguishable from the sky.”He went to sketch Netley Abbey:—“While I was drawing, several parties came to visit the Abbey, and I entered into conversation with most of them. One gentleman was finding great fault with the taste of the proprietor of the Abbey. He said, ‘Now, if this was my Abbey, I’d get some masons and stop up all the holes, and I don’t know if I should not whitewash it. Would not you, Sir?’ I thought this opening speech promised fair, so that I nodded assent to induce him to go on; and he proceeded: ‘Then I’d remove all this rubbish (pointing to the masses of stonework which lay on the ground) and fetch some loads of gravel from the beach, with which I would cover the floor of the chapel, and have it rolled nice and flat; or I don’t know whether I should not lay turf instead, and keep the grass cut short, and as level as abowling-green. Then I’d build a nice thatched cottage just by the gate there for the porter to live at; but I think I should have it within the chapel, because it would add very much to its appearance. The Abbey would be worth coming to see then; but now the fellow that owns it must be a fool.’ The gentleman then asked me what I thought of his proposed alterations, and I told him that they would certainly make the chapel look veryneatandpretty. ‘Ah!’ says he, ‘I see you are a young man of taste.’ I did not think it necessary to contradict him. He wished me good morning, and walked off, and I resumed my drawing, rejoicing that the Abbey was in better hands than his.”Crossing over to the Isle of Wight he passed through the village of Freshwater:—“Wishing to be acquainted with the etymology of the name Freshwater, I asked the sailors if the water in the bay was not so salt as the sea-water generally is. ‘Oh, yes,’ they replied, ‘it’s all alike.’ ‘What, then, is the reason of the names Freshwater Town and Freshwater Bay?’ I inquired. ‘Why, they are in Freshwater parish to be sure,’ was the reply.”On his way home he saw Stonehenge:—“It is certain that great numbers of the stones have been carried off (I suppose in pieces), and afterwards used in building, as Inigo Jones mentions in his account of Stonehenge that such was the case between two different periods at which he visited the Temple. What must be the feelings of those who could, for the sake of the value of stones as building materials, disturb and destroy so venerable, so interesting a monument of antiquity, I cannot guess. I think it would be well if the government of the country would purchase this and every other valuable antiquity of the island, and preserve them as much as possible from injury.”In one of the papers that he drew up in his old age, he thus describes his last visit to Stonehenge:—“We also went to see Stonehenge, for about the tenth time in my life, since whenever there was a chance to visit this most interesting and much controverted antiquity I never failed to take advantage of it. But this, my last visit, was a very different affair indeed from my first in 1817. Forty-three years before I had set out forStonehenge, in company with my father, breakfasting on the way at a small inn, a mile or two from the place. While my father rested I went, sketch-book in hand, to the so-called Druidic temple. Not a creature, human or animal, was in sight, not even the ‘Shepherd of Salisbury Plain’ himself. I was alone with the wonderful stone monument, and nothing but the sky and the vast downs in sight. By-and-by came a shepherd, chatty and communicative, with fifteen hundred sheep, and thus only was my solitude broken upon. But to-day (1860) what a change! Easy communication and love of locomotion had vulgarized even Stonehenge. We found a crowd of people making noisy the place, and rudely shattering my early peaceful associations.”In April, 1817, he had recorded his “intention of making experiments to ascertain the comparative nourishment which is derived from different kinds of food.” In the following January he records the result:—“My engagements this half-year are such as will not allow me to continue my experiments upon food, as I am obliged to be out very much. I have, therefore, brought my experiments to a conclusion without having completed them. But, however, I have ascertained some remarkable facts, as the Journal will show, and I hope that my trouble will not altogether be thrown away.“COPY OF THE JOURNAL RESPECTING DIET.“April 15th, 1817.—I was thinking yesterday that little was known of the comparative nutriment which we receive from the different kinds of food we eat, and I then determined to try a few experiments, from the results of which a table may be formed showing the comparative value of the principal kinds of food upon which we live. It is also my intention to notice the effects which each kind of fare has upon my health.“I shall live three days upon each of the principal kinds of food, and take nothing else except coffee, tea, and water. I shall always drink three cups of coffee at my breakfast, three cups of tea at my tea, and as much water as I feel inclined for. With my meat and potatoes I shall allow myself salt, but nothing else.“That, at the time I am eating one kind of food, I may feel no effects from the kind which I eat before, it is my intention, afterhaving lived three days upon any particular food, to take the usual fare for the next three days, and so on.“Before I enter on my Journal, I will say something of the usual state of my health. For the last year or two I have suffered much from the headache: I have almost constantly been troubled with bile; but a few days ago I made a tour to Liverpool, which I found to improve the state of my health considerably, and since my return I have been tolerably well.“I began my experiments this morning: during this day and the two next I shall eat nothing but dry bread untoasted. I have taken a stale quartern loaf, which weighed 4 lbs. 4 oz. It is made partly of old flour, and partly of that of last year, which was very bad. The loaf is rather moist, and a little brown. It came from the old Union Mill, and cost one shilling and fourpence half-penny.“It is now seven o’clock at night. I have made three meals from it, and have eaten about one-third, which is less than I expected I should eat. I have not stinted myself at all. I am much the same in every respect as I was yesterday, only that I feel as though I had eaten too much. I do not know whether I shall be able to eat any supper.“April 16th.—I eat a little supper last night. I have been much the same to-day as I was yesterday.“April 17th, 6.30 p.m.—I have not been quite so well to-day as I was yesterday. I am troubled very much with the bile and the headache. I have a good deal of the loaf left, more, I think, than will last me for supper. My mother says there has been a visible alteration for the worse in my appearance since the commencement of the three days.“9.45.—I have just finished my loaf and supper. I made no point of exactly finishing the loaf: it is merely accidental.“April 20th.—During this and the two last days I have fared as usual. Still troubled with the bile and headache, though not so unwell as before.“The next three days I shall eat nothing but bread and butter, the bread of the same kind as before.”He next tried dry toast, cold toast and butter, hot toast and butter, bread and bacon, bread and cheese, rice pudding, boiled green pease and salt, damson-pie and sugar, bread and sugar; living for three days on each article. It is not, perhaps, surprising that, inthe course of the experiments, he one day records “an acute pain in my left side nearly the whole of the day.”The next entry that I quote is of a very different kind:—“February 15th, 1819.—Campbell, the poet, is now in Birmingham. He is engaged by the Philosophical Society to deliver a course of twelve lectures on poetry. This morning he called here to put his son under our care during his stay in Birmingham. We consider this a feather in our cap.“March 2nd.—Young Campbell, who is about fifteen, is a boy of talent. He has never been at a school, but has been educated at home by his father. Mr. Campbell is so pleased with what we are doing for the boy, that he says he should like exceedingly to leave him with us; but, as he is an only child, he cannot persuade Mrs. Campbell to part with him.“March 12th.—Yesterday, Mr. Campbell dined with us. He is a very pleasant man in company. He related a great number of pleasing anecdotes; but he did not answer the expectations I had formed of the poet Campbell.[62]“August 22nd, 1819.—The people of Birmingham have taken the first decisive step towards parliamentary reform. A town’s meeting has been held at New Hall Hill for the purpose of considering the best means of obtaining the representation of all the unrepresented people of England, and particularly those of Birmingham. At this meeting an immense concourse of people assembled; some accounts say eighty thousand. I was present, and witnessed nearly the whole proceedings. It was unanimously resolved to appoint Sir Charles Wolseley representative of Birmingham, with directions to make every effort to obtain a seat in the House of Commons when it shall again assemble after the present vacation. The object of this meeting was treated by the opposite party with the greatest ridicule; but that it deserves anything rather than ridicule is manifest from thealarm it has evidently excited in the minds of the supporters of the present system.“At our Birmingham meeting the people conducted themselves with the greatest decorum. Our magistrates had the good sense not to provoke them by the presence of the military, and the immense assembly dispersed without the least mischief being done.”“August 10th.—A few days ago I accompanied my brother Matthew to Warwick, to assist him in preparations for the defence of Major Cartwright, who was tried at the Assizes just concluded. The offence charged against him, and the others who were tried with him, was the election of a legislatorial attorney or representative of the people of Birmingham (Sir Charles Wolseley). My brother was engaged for the major, Denman for Edmonds and Maddocks, and Wooller and Lewis defended themselves. The trial occupied two whole days, the Court sitting to a late hour each day. The speeches of Denman, Matthew, and Wooller were, I think, the most eloquent I ever heard; but in spite of justice, reason, and everything else but the advice of the Judge, the blockheads in the jury-box gave a verdict of guilty.... Matthew, as usual, received the compliments of the Judge. He is rising very fast into fame.”Thirteen years later, when the Reform Bill was carried, the great town of Birmingham was at last represented in Parliament. “They have made me Chairman of Attwood’s Committee,” wrote old Mr. Hill to his eldest son, who was at that time a candidate for Hull.... “I am glad that you like what I spoke at the town’s meeting. All I said came from the heart as prompted by a sincere affection for liberty, goodness, and truth. Still the fervour of delivery was not the less because Attwood and Birmingham had common cause with Hill and Hull.” In that town in which, more than forty years before, he had braved the violence of a Tory mob, the old man had now the high honour of being called upon to propose, on the nomination day, the election of the first representative that Birmingham ever sent to the Commons House of Parliament.CHAPTER VI.It was in July, 1819, that the new school-house was opened at Edgbaston with the happiest promise. Little more than a year later it was almost destroyed by fire:—“Everything (Rowland Hill recorded in his Journal) seemed to be in a prosperous condition. We anticipated being shortly able to pay all the expenses incurred in our building and removal, when an event happened which plunged us all into the deepest distress.“On the morning of Wednesday, the 23rd of August, 1820, I was awaked at five in the morning by the monitor entering my room to take the keys of the lower rooms. I inquired what was the time, and was glad to find that it wanted an hour of the time at which I usually rose. I turned in my bed, and in a moment was again asleep, little thinking of the destruction which, in all probability, had then commenced. In about half-an-hour I was again awaked, by two or three boys running into my room, with the alarming information that the rooms in the roof were on fire.“In a moment I was in the roof rooms with my brothers, who slept in the same chamber as myself. These rooms were even then so full of smoke that it was difficult to discern the objects near to us. The fire we found to be in a closet opening into one of these rooms; the flames appeared through the crevices of the door, which, never having been painted, appeared almost transparent with the strong light within. The first impulse was to endeavour to open the door and to throw in water, which some had brought from the chambers below; but in this we did not succeed, and, after a moment’s reflection, we gave up the attempt, judging it best to confine the flames as much as possible, for had the door been opened they would have burst upon us in such a manner as to have driven us at once from the room. The whole family had now caught the alarm. [In the midst of the alarm Rowland Hill remembered that his eldest brother’s wife, who, with her husband, happened to be staying in the house, was in a delicate state ofhealth. He went to their room, and, quietly beckoning his brother out, in the hope of saving her a sudden shock, told him that the house was on fire.] After hastily slipping on a few clothes, some began to remove the furniture from the different rooms.... In a few moments we were all roused from a deep sleep, and plunged into the most active and distressing employment. No one can be surprised that at first the bustle and alarm should be such as to prevent our taking, perhaps, the best possible means to prevent the ravages of the fire; it has since struck us that by taking off some of the slates it is possible that we should have been able to throw water upon the fire and retard it, if not put it quite out; but this was not thought of at the moment, and the time during which there would have been any chance of success lasted but for a few minutes.“The first anxiety was for the safety of the boys; but, as the fire was over their heads, alarm on that account soon subsided. As soon as they had risen they began to throw their bedding out at the windows, and to remove the other furniture of the rooms, and even in the midst of all the bustle and anxiety I could not but admire the activity and presence of mind on the part of the boys. We are indebted to them more than to any other individuals that the loss, though it was very great, was not still more ruinous.”The fire began in a closet under the roof. It was so close to the staircase that all communication with the other rooms on the attic floor was soon cut off.“Order was somewhat restored among us—as much, perhaps, as it could be under such circumstances; each of the elders among us having taken the direction of certain things, with a number of boys and others under his control, when a new cause of alarm arose. It was recollected by my mother that one of the servant girls, with a poor woman who came the day before to do some sewing, slept in the bed which I have mentioned [it was a bed in one of the roof rooms, which was occasionally used by sewing and washing women], and it was found that the girl only had escaped. I was at the front of the house giving directions respecting the procuring of water when I learnt this alarming news. I immediately ran upstairs, passed my father, who was then on his way to rescue the woman, and who generously tried to prevent my going by taking the risk upon himself; rushed through the room in which was the fire intothe next, and, taking the woman from the bed, on which she lay in a fainting fit, carried her in my arms to the top of the stairs. I could do no more: although the whole was but the work of a minute, such was the effect of the alarm and of the dense smoke which I had breathed, that I loosed her, and she was caught by those who stood upon the stairs. I myself staggered down one or two steps, and should have fallen had I not been caught by one of those who stood about. A few minutes were sufficient for me to recover my strength. How the woman revived I do not know, but I saw her soon after, apparently well, watching the furniture at the front of the house.“It afterwards appeared that the girl, awaked by the smoke, called her bedfellow, ran downstairs and alarmed those who slept on the first floor, about the same time that the discovery was made by the boy who slept under the closet, and who saw the fire as he lay in bed, through a ventilator in the ceiling which opened through the floor of the closet. The woman, instead of following her companion, actuated by one of those inexplicable motives which sometimes influence the conduct of the uneducated, remained in the room very deliberately dressing herself, and I afterwards learned that when I carried her out of the room her stays were very regularly laced. When she did attempt an escape, owing to her alarm, her want of knowledge of the arrangement of the rooms, and the density of the smoke, she was unable to find the door, and, after groping about the room some time, she said that she ‘threw herself on the bed, and gave herself up for lost.’ Next to effecting her escape, or making some noise which would have alarmed those who were about, throwing herself on the bed was the best thing; for had she been elsewhere I never should have found her, as the smoke was so thick that I could not discover a single object in the room, and only found the bed by knowing its situation from having been frequently in the room. If we had known at the time we were in the next room, immediately after the first alarm, that she was there, she would have been rescued without any difficulty. The poor woman’s obstinacy cost her her life, for although she was not in the least burnt, yet such was the effect of the smoke upon her lungs, together with the alarm, that the next day she became exceedingly ill, and although we procured for her the best medical advice the town afforded, she died in a few days. The surgeon who attended her said that she died of a disease to which she had long been subject, an enlargement of the heart, which was brought on in this instance by the causes I have before stated.“The engines arrived shortly after. I had provided for them a stock of water by placing some large tubs in the front of the house, which we filled with water before the engines came. One of our pumps was undergoing repairs at the time, so that it did not afford us any water. The other very soon became dry; but we found an excellent supply from a pit a little nearer to the town, on the right side of the road. Five men, for the promise of five shillings each, stood in the water to fill the buckets, and such was the rapidity of the supply, that not one of the engines was for an instant without water.“By about eight the engines ceased to play—the fire was extinguished. Till this time so actively had I been engaged, that I believe I had not time to reflect upon the consequences of this accident. But now all was over. Exertion was no further of any use. In informing my father that such was the state of things, my throat felt as stopped, and the tears came to my eyes. I went upstairs, and to the top of the house. The whole of the roof, excepting that part over the school-room, was destroyed. Two or three of the beams, reduced to charcoal, remained in their places, and a few of the slates still rested upon some of the bending rafters; the rest was bare to the sky. In some places the rubbish was still smoking. To extinguish this completely, and to search every place to be certain that all was safe, occupied my attention for a time; but the consideration of the probable effect this accident might have on our future success would obtrude itself on my mind. We had insured the house and furniture, but for a small sum; the first for £500, the latter for £250, and I soon saw that the loss would be considerable.“In order to throw the water immediately upon the fire, we raised a ladder which had been made a few months before to be in readiness in case of such an accident. Up this the firemen carried their pipes, and played almost directly upon the flames.”Among the firemen on the crumbling roof, directing and aiding them, was his brother Edwin. “Observing that one of the men had difficulty in reaching a place where the flames remained unsubdued, he seized one of the largest slates, and so held it as to deflect the stream, all this being done while his bride stood in anxiety below.”“Another pipe was carried up the stairs, and threw its water upon the fire through an opening over the back stairs. This engine was very effective, till a scoundrel (and there were several about who took advantage of the confusion to plunder the house), in order to make the confusion still greater, stamped upon the pipe and burst it. A fireman who saw this, took a short staff out of his pocket and gave the fellow a blow on his head, which sent him completely downstairs. I did not know of this till after the fire was over and the rascal had escaped, otherwise he should have been dealt with as he deserved. I cannot think of any crime which so completely shows the absence of all good feeling as to take advantage of another’s misfortunes, and even to increase them for the sake of plunder.“It was necessary to do much immediately. We had all risen in the greatest haste, and were but half-dressed. The poor boys had lost all their clothes, except such as were on their backs, and some which were then at the washerwoman’s,—for their trunks, which were kept in one of the roof rooms, were destroyed. We were all wet, hungry, tired, and distressed. The house was completely swilled throughout with the immense quantity of water which had been thrown upon it, so that it was impossible to inhabit it immediately. Our family consisted of almost eighty individuals, who were at that moment houseless. The kindness of our friends and neighbours, however, soon relieved us of part of our anxiety. They provided us with clean linen, shoes, and everything we could want. A lady who keeps a female school on the opposite side of the road, kindly lent the boys a change of stockings. Our good friend, Miss Bache, came with her servants laden with food for breakfast, which was eaten by some in the garden. One or two gentlemen undertook the care of the house and furniture; others led away the people who had assisted to the ‘Plough and Harrow,’ where they were refreshed with bread and cheese and ale, and all pressed us to leave the place for a time and recruit our strength. The boys were divided amongst the neighbours, who took them to their houses. Mr. and Mrs. Busby, than whom kinder-hearted people never existed, claimed a right to receive our own family, as being the nearest neighbours. Here we breakfasted. It was a sad meal, each trying to appear as little affected as possible, in order to keep up the spirits of the others. If anything could have removed our distress, it would have been accomplished by the kindness of our friends, which no doubt did very much to alleviate it. Invitations for ourselves and the boys—not only from our immediate friends, but also from gentlemen whose names we scarcely knew,—poured inupon us, and if our family had been ten times as numerous, they would have been disposed of with greater ease than was the case; for the offers of assistance were so earnest and so numerous, that it was painful to be obliged to refuse such as we could not accept.“Our friend, Mr. Witton, offered us the use of the whole of his house at Kitwell ready furnished. Mr. Blakeway, another of our friends, made an offer, which we gladly accepted, of a house of his in Tenant Street, which then stood empty. In this we determined to put up the beds, most of which had been saved, and use it as a lodging-house till our own could be repaired.“We were anxious to inform the friends of the children as soon as possible of the accident, in order to prevent that alarm which the exaggerated accounts in the first instance generally circulated on such an occasion would raise. This was undertaken by a friend; but, notwithstanding the precaution, the good people of Kidderminster, from which town we had several boys, were terribly alarmed. An uncle of a boy named H——, whose friends reside at Kidderminster, happened to be in Birmingham at the time of the fire. As soon as the news reached him, he wrote to his sister (the boy’s mother), to prevent any uneasiness which she might have felt had she heard a wrong account from another quarter. In his haste he incautiously made use of the following expression: ‘Hazelwood is burnt down, but Henry is safe.’ The report was immediately circulated in Kidderminster that the house was burnt down, and that all the boys except H—— were burnt. The friends of the other children were in a state of the greatest anxiety. The father of one of the boys immediately rode over in the greatest haste. He was soon followed by another. I need not say how glad they were to see their children.“During the course of the day the friends of many of the children arrived, and took their sons home. This, though it relieved us of the care of them, made us anxious whether an impression might not get abroad, that either we were particularly careless or very unlucky; the more so, as an alarm of the same kind, sufficient to induce us to send for the engines, although they had nothing to do when they arrived, took place the winter before. We now began to place the furniture in the school-room and the chamber over, as this part of the house had not been injured by the fire or the water. Some also took precautions to defend the house from further injury by rain. To accomplish this, we borrowed a great quantity of tarpaulin from the different carriers in the town, by means of which a temporaryroof was constructed. I engaged a number of men to remove the rubbish which had fallen with the roof and ceilings upon the floors of the garrets, and to riddle it in order that nothing valuable might be lost. The quantity of rubbish collected amounted to several wagon-loads. Frederic, and I slept at night in the school-room to guard the house. We had also a watchman on the outside. The other part of the family slept at the neighbours’ houses.“The next day the family again assembled at dinner at the house of my brother Edwin. We now made arrangements for restoring things as soon as possible. One undertook the repairs of the building; another those of the furniture; one to make out the account for the Fire Office; another to prepare the house in Tenant Street. Printed circular-letters were sent to our friends as soon as possible, expressive of our gratitude for the kindness we had met with, and stating our intention of resuming the business of the school on the Thursday following—that is, eight days after the fire.“Besides the injury done to the roof, the floors of the rooms in that part of the house, and the garret ceilings, were almost completely destroyed. The garret floors were much injured by the burning wood which fell upon them, and they doubtless would have been destroyed altogether, but that persons were engaged, at a considerable risk, in throwing water upon the blazing timbers as they fell, before the engines arrived. The walls and ceilings of the lower rooms were also much injured by the water.“The school assembled on the day appointed. Till the roof was completed the boys slept in Tenant Street; when that was done they occupied the chambers of the house, a part of our own family sleeping from home. It was not till Christmas that we were enabled to reinstate everything.“Among the things destroyed in the flames, almost every one of us has lost something which he valued highly. My brother Arthur has lost the accounts of some tours which he has taken at various times; Howard has lost a copy of Mavor’s ‘British Tourist,’ which he gained as a prize in the school. But in things of that description I have been the greatest sufferer. I have lost all my original drawings, six in number, which were framed and glazed. I made these drawings when I was quite a boy, and for that reason I valued them. At Hill Top they hung in the parlour, but when we removed they were put in one of the roof rooms till a convenient opportunity should occur to hang them up. The electrical planisphere, representing the southern sky, and the water-alarum, both of which I have described in these memoirs, were consumed in the flames. I valuedthese because they were the best specimens I possessed of my boyish handicraft.“I have not yet lost the impression which this accident made upon my mind. My sleep is frequently broken by dreaming of fire; when awake I often suppose that I smell smoke; and it is not till I am out of bed that I can convince myself that I have been deceived. It is remarkable that at the present time, and, indeed, immediately after the fire, I remembered but little of what took place; although the roof fell in, and the flames were seen at a great distance from the house, I have no recollection of noticing either; yet I was more than once on different parts of the roof, giving directions to the firemen.”He thus accounts for the origin of the fire:—“Upon making known the situation of things as they stood previous to the fire, it was suggested by some one that it might have originated thus. I have before said that a great quantity of carpeting, old and new, lay in the closet. An old Brussels carpet was folded up and placed on the floor of the closet; on this lay a roll of new Scotch carpet; and the whole was surmounted by a number of empty paper hat-boxes. This being the state of things, and the closet having no ceiling, it is very probable that during the heavy rains which fell a short time previous, some of the water might penetrate through the roof and wet the carpets. The rain was succeeded by some of the hottest weather I ever remember. The heat immediately under the slates would be very great; and we were told that Brussels carpeting, which is composed partly of hemp and partly of wool, if wet and afterwards exposed to heat, will ferment and fire spontaneously, in the manner that hay sometimes does. This opinion, upon inquiry, we found to be confirmed by experience. A ship in the Mediterranean took fire from the fermentation of some wet ropes stowed in the hold. A relation of ours, a builder, had his premises partly destroyed by the fermentation of a quantity of hair for plaster, placed under a shed. He knows this to have been the cause, from the circumstance of the hair’s smoking having been noticed the day preceding.”He discusses the question of insurance:—“The question whether or not it is wise to insure, and to what amount, appears to me a very difficult one. If a person’s property be such that the loss of his house and furniture would not be aruinous injury, then it appears to me it would be absurd for him to insure, because more than half the premium consists of duty to the Government, and by becoming his own insurance broker he saves that sum and the profit also. It appears to me also to be bad policy to insure to a great amount, because by a strange arrangement in all insurance offices, the sum paid for damage is not estimated, as it ought to be, by considering what proportion the damage bears to the whole value of the building, and paying the sufferer the same fraction of the insurance. Thus, if a house be worth £1,000, and is insured for £100, if the building is damaged to the amount of £100, the office will pay the whole of that sum; whereas I should say it ought to pay only the tenth part of £100—that is, £10; for the rate of insurance upon a large sum is no less than that upon a small one, and the probability of a house being injured to the amount of £100 is greater than the chance of its being injured to the amount of £200, still greater than the chance of its sustaining an injury to the amount of £300, and so on.“It was reasoning in this manner that induced me to insure for so small a sum; but I forgot that our risk was greater than that of our neighbours, in consequence of so many persons residing under the same roof. For this reason, and because we should not be equally well able to bear a second loss, we have now insured to a much greater amount; but I am not sure that we were not right before, and are mistaken now, because the circumstance of our having been unfortunate is no proof of error, any more than the gaining a prize in the lottery is a proof of the propriety of purchasing a ticket.“Some people have very strange ideas about insurance from fire. They appear to think that it actually prevents a fire taking place. Birmingham furnishes a remarkable instance of an error of this kind. The workhouse, which is the property of the whole town, is insured in the Birmingham Fire Office, which is supported by a comparatively small number of individuals. I wonder whether the company insures its own office? Perhaps it does in another—or perhaps in its own!”He fails, as it seems to me, to take into account that freedom from daily anxiety which a man buys who insures his property to its full value, or something not much short of it. His eldest brother told me that, at one time of his life, he himself was so much troubled by the thought that if he died early he should leave his young wife and children but ill provided for that hishealth became affected, and his power of work was lessened. His dread of poverty was, therefore, tending to keep him poor. He insured his life heavily, and at once regained his cheerfulness. He had paid, he added, in his long life far more in premiums than his children would ever receive back on his death. This outlay, nevertheless, he looked upon as a real money gain to him. It had given him freedom from care, and this freedom had greatly helped to increase his earnings.In the summer of 1821, Rowland Hill and his next brother, Arthur, crossed over to Ireland, to inspect the Edgeworth-Town Assisting School. This curious institution had been lately founded by Lovell Edgeworth, the brother of Maria Edgeworth. On their way the travellers passed through Manchester. There for the first time they saw a whole town lighted by gas. Between Liverpool and Dublin steamboats ran during the summer months. None ventured as yet to cross the winter seas. The fares were high—a guinea and a-half for the passage. The sailing packets charged but seven shillings; and it was in one of them that the two brothers crossed over. On landing they had to undergo the Custom House examination, as Import Duties were still kept up between the two islands. Two packets arrived almost at the same time, but there was only one officer to examine all the baggage. There were fees to pay; and overcharge was rendered easy by the difference that still subsisted between English and Irish money.During their stay in Dublin they drove out with an Irish barrister to see the Dargle. “We found,” wrote the younger of the two brothers—“A line of bushes laid across the road into the grounds, and were told by men working on the spot that we could not pass, the placebeing under preparation for the King’s visit. Had we been alone we should have either turned back or tried the power of a bribe; but our Irish friend knew better; and after one or two cajoling phrases, which moved not very much, proceeded to ‘damn the King!’ The effect was complete, a gap being at once made, through which we passed, while one of the men remarked that others had applied, speaking of the King in high terms, but all those had been turned back.”One evening they saw the general departure of the mails for the provinces. They expected, as a matter of course, to find the guard of each coach armed, as in England, with a blunderbuss; but they found that he carried, in addition, a sword and pistols, while some of the coaches had two guards, and others even three. They left Dublin for Edgeworth-Town on a Sunday morning. For the first time in their life they heard bells rung from churches that did not belong to the Establishment.Rowland Hill’s Journal contains an interesting account of this tour:—“On the road to Edgeworth-Town we were struck with the miserable state of the poor Irish. Many live in huts without either window or chimney, the door serving every purpose of ingression and of egression. The poor women and children were generally without shoes and stockings; the men, however, almost always wear both, and even in the midst of summer appear dressed in great coats. Though Sunday, we saw many parties dancing in the roads and fields, the men in their great coats, and carts and wagons passed along apparently as much as on any other day. Every time the coach stopped it was surrounded by beggars, apparently in the lowest possible state of misery.“With a few exceptions, everything appears to be neglected. The land is miserably cultivated, and worse fenced, and the houses seem falling into ruin. You see gates with one hinge, and no fastening, tied up by means of ropes or haybands; windows reduced from a proper size to a single pane of glass, the remainder of the window, as it was broken, having been stopped up with a flat stone, a piece of wood, plaster, or a turf. In many places half the housesare in a state of ruin, and quite uninhabited. We learned that many had been reduced to this state at the time of the riots.”At Edgeworth-Town they lodged in the best inn of which the place could boast. Nevertheless under the bed they found put away a store of old shoes:—“After breakfast we went with Mr. Edgeworth to see his school. It consists of about 160 boys, of all classes, from the sons of beggars to the children of some of the most wealthy men in the neighbourhood. They are classed without any distinction but that of merit, and to destroy every difference in appearance, all the boys wore pinafores as a kind of uniform. Out of school, however, some distinction is made. The sons of gentlemen and respectable tradesmen have a separate playground, and the boarders are divided among two or three houses, according to their rank in society.“About three-fourths of the boys had neither shoes nor stockings, but they all appeared clean, happy, and contented.“The plan of the school in some measure resembles the Lancasterian, only that Mr. Edgeworth accomplishes much more than I have ever seen done in a Lancasterian school. Every boy pays a little for his education—viz., from 1d.to 5d.per week, according to his circumstances. Mr. Edgeworth has a nursery of four or five acres, in which the poor boys are allowed to work, in order to enable them to pay for their education, for the washing of their pinafores, &c. There are two masters with salaries, one of whom has the general superintendence of the school in Mr. Edgeworth’s absence, the other teaches the classics. The weekly payments of the boys defray every expense of the establishment, except the rent, within about a hundred a year. The boarders pay the masters of the houses at which they lodge for all expenses attending their maintenance.”So eager were some of the boys to earn money by working over-time, that Mr. Edgeworth was forced to limit the hours of this kind of labour. A penalty was fixed for any one who should venture to begin work before the appointed time. Shortly before the arrival of the two visitors, a boy had been found on a summer morning hard at work as early as two o’clock. He was saving up money to buy his mother a garment ofwhich she stood greatly in need. Not only was the breach of rule forgiven, but high honour was done to the young offender. “The mode taken was characteristic alike of man and country. When the required sum was made up, and the garment purchased, this being hung from the top of a pole, was borne in triumph through the single street of the town, all the boys marching in procession, with their landlord at their head.”“The boys, as far as we could ascertain in the course of a week’s close inspection, are exceedingly orderly, attentive, and well behaved. Mr. Edgeworth states that he finds the children of the peasantry much more docile than those of gentlemen, and the English more tractable than the Irish.“The hay-harvest was now about, and the boys spent considerable part of the day in the park making the hay. They worked in classes, under the direction of monitors, and proceeded with the utmost order and regularity; they very soon turned the grass of several acres.“Mr. Edgeworth spends a good deal of time in joking with his boys. We saw him act before them the drunken, idle, low, but shrewd Irishman, and many other characters for the instruction and entertainment of his boys. They laugh with him, and, for the time, master and scholars appear to be on the most familiar terms.“On Wednesday we dined at Mr. Edgeworth’s house: there is something highly fascinating in the company of celebrated people. In conversing with Miss Edgeworth, I felt that I was renewing, as it were, an old acquaintance; for who is there to whom she is altogether unknown? I must acknowledge, however, that my introduction to her was not made without some trepidation on my part, but so kind, so unassuming is her manner, that in a very short time I felt almost entirely at my ease in her company. I could not, however, quite rid myself of the feeling that I was in the company of one who had shown by her works that she could detect, and that she noticed every little symptom of weakness which to a common eye might pass unobserved. I was uneasy lest she should discover the defects in my education before I could take an opportunity of alluding to them, as is my custom in similar cases. Miss Edgeworth is a short, sprightly woman, without any of the affectation of politeness,but with much that is real. One is apt to suppose that a person of celebrity must always appear as though a high character was to be supported; there is nothing of this kind about Miss Edgeworth; she is exceedingly lively, and even playful in her manner, and seems to have not the slightest objection to a good joke.”“I still esteem it,” writes the surviving brother, “one of the greatest honours of my life to have sat next to her at dinner by her own desire. To me, and doubtless to my brother Rowland also, the interview with this admirable woman savoured of romance. As an abstraction, she had long been to every member of our family an object of respect amounting to reverence. Her works had been to us a source of delight, of instruction, of purity, and of elevation, but herself seemed indefinitely removed, and we could hardly believe that we were now actually in her presence, and admitted to friendly intercourse.”“On Saturday I gave Mr. Edgeworth some parts of the rough draft of ‘Public Education’ to read, which I had taken with me to Ireland. He desired one of his monitors to take it to his house, and leave it in his bedchamber, stating that he always lay in bed till the middle of the day on Sunday, and that he could read it before he arose in the morning.“On Sunday morning, after our return from church, Mr. Edgeworth sent to request our attendance at his school. We found the boys all drawn up in divisions, and several gentlemen from the neighbourhood were present. We joined Mr. Edgeworth, who stood on a kind of stage formed by the stairs. He began a speech to his boys on the subject of the papers which I had lent him to read, in which he spoke in the most extravagant terms of what he had read. He was sure that we had carried the science of education to a perfection never before aimed at; he considered himself highly flattered by our visit to his school, but felt ashamed that we had not been better repaid for our trouble. He hoped we would allow him to return the visit, as he was sure nothing would delight him so much as a complete knowledge of our plans.“After he had concluded, he requested that I would honestlystate my opinions respecting his school, and he insisted on my finding fault with something or other. I now felt the convenience of having been practised at extemporaneous speaking: for called upon as I was to address a great number of individuals, without any previous notice or opportunity of arranging and collecting my thoughts, and immediately after Mr. Edgeworth had spoken in the highest terms of a work which, till I afterwards undeceived him, he considered as entirely my own production, and for which he lauded my powers in an extravagant degree, I should not have been able to utter a single connected sentence, had not former practice rendered that easy which, without practice, is to some altogether impossible.“In the evening we dined at Mr. Edgeworth’s. On entering the library we found Miss Edgeworth reading ‘Public Education.’ She spoke of it in less extravagant but not in less pleasing terms than her brother. She had read the greater part, and with the highest delight. Upon her complimenting me as the author, I informed her that I had written but a small part, and that my elder brother was the principal author. She then spoke with less restraint of the merits of the book, and said that it reflected the highest credit on the writer, whoever he might be. That her praise was not the unmeaning stuff of common-place compliment I am sure, for it was not uniform. She objected to some parts, which she advised us to alter. She had made notes with her pencil as she read the book, which she pointed out to us. Most of her suggestions we have adopted; a few which did not meet our views, after mature deliberation we have ventured to disregard. One part of the work contains a compliment to Miss Edgeworth, written, as I could not help telling her for my own credit, before we had any intention of visiting Ireland. It is in speaking of our obligations to her as the author of so many excellent tales for children. The name of her father had been coupled with hers, but was afterwards crossed out from the belief that the tales were almost entirely her own production. This she had noticed, and, with tears in her eyes, requested that his name might be restored, stating that he had materially assisted her in all her productions, and that she wished never to be considered separately from him....“I cannot describe the restless activity of Mr. Edgeworth. This evening he displayed more character than I had before had an opportunity of observing. Let it be remembered that this was Sunday evening.“We did not sit down to dinner till after seven o’clock. So long as the ladies remained in the room Mr. Edgeworth kept some curbon his spirits. He was the complete gentleman, behaving with the greatest respect towards his female relations, and, indeed, towards every one at the table. As soon as the barbarous custom now in vogue had driven the ladies to the drawing-room, Mr. Edgeworth invited us to draw our chairs together. The butler was ordered to bring some bottles of a particular claret, which he told us was better than nectar. A toast was proposed, and we proceeded to the business of the evening, Mr. Edgeworth for some time watching very carefully to see there was no unnecessary display of ‘daylight.’ Between every toast, Mr. E. spoke in the most extravagant terms of our book; and ‘Hazelwood School,’ ‘Mr. Hill and family,’ ‘The author of the book,’ &c., were toasted with all due solemnity. We did not fail to return thanks, and to propose ‘The Edgeworth-Town Assisting School,’ ‘Miss Edgeworth,’ &c.“I must remark that in the morning he had asked me many questions respecting our band, and had expressed to his boys his earnest wish that a band should be formed in his school. Some of the boys, it was stated, could already play a little upon the flute. Mr. Edgeworth desired them to perfect themselves with all possible despatch.“In the midst of our jollification, as we sat with the windows open, we heard two flutes playing a quick tune in the town. Mr. Edgeworth was delighted with this, and immediately sent one of his servants to fetch the players, whoever they might be. The man soon returned with two of the scholars, who had been parading up and down the street without shoes and stockings, and marching to their own music. We immediately adjourned to a kind of conservatory, into which the dining-room opened, where, after giving us another tune, the boys joined us in drinking ‘Success to the band.’ ... Delighted with every one, and with himself in particular, Mr. Edgeworth got into the most playful humour. Sometimes, after a toast, he directed we should join hands all round, then cross them, &c.... At about midnight, he proposed that we should go to the school-house, and see how things went on there. He opened a back door, which let us at once into the street. The key of this door he always kept about him, as he said, that he might go out and inspect the state of the town at any hour of the night without disturbing his family. This he frequently does, going into people’s houses in disguise,—in imitation, I suppose, of the hero of the Arabian tales. The butler was sent forward to call up O’Brien, the classical teacher of the school, and Steele, one of the head monitors. He was cautioned, at the same time, not to forget the good thingswhich were under his care.... Steele, who, though a young man of genteel appearance, is the son of a poor bricklayer, sallied forth from a small cottage, and met us in the street. Both he and O’Brien had been in bed. Mr. Edgeworth, like most men who are occasionally very familiar with their inferiors, is very tenacious of his rank and authority. Poor Steele was desired to relate a story—of which the length very far exceeded the interest—about a silver trowel which had been presented by Mr. Edgeworth to Steele’s father, on account of his having had the honour to open the family vault at the time of the death of the late Mr. Edgeworth. The young man, as was natural enough when we consider that he had been called out of a warm bed, and was now standing in the street at midnight, began his relation with his head covered. Mr. Edgeworth immediately ordered him to take off his hat, and even made him put it on the ground.“At the school-house, after carefully satisfying ourselves that all the boys were safely roosted, we proceeded much in the same manner as at Mr. Edgeworth’s house. O’Brien and Steele were asked by him if they knew any good songs, and they accordingly favoured us with some of their best.“Shortly after, Mr. Edgeworth, as though a thought had suddenly struck him, cried out that he should uncommonly like a beefsteak. Most of us agreed that it would be a good thing; but Arthur, who had been rather fidgetty most of the evening, could stand it no longer, and accordingly made good his retreat to the inn. For my own part, I cannot say that I receive the least true pleasure from parties like this; but, as every one must occasionally join in them, I think it best to make oneself as comfortable as possible under all the circumstances, and not to attempt to swim against the stream.“The mistress of the house, who I afterwards learned had been in bed, was now summoned, and questioned as to the possibility of satisfying our wishes. Fortunately she was provided with the means, and at about two o’clock we sat down to a beefsteak supper. After supper, Mr. Edgeworth commenced an oration in praise of his butler’s grandmother, who had been remarkable for many good qualities. The glasses were filled, the butler was furnished with one, and with the utmost solemnity we drank to the memory of the worthy grandmother....“The next day we took our leave of the Edgeworths. Miss Edgeworth had now read the whole of the book. She spoke of its excellences in the same terms as before, but she objected to some parts of our plan. She is afraid that the republicanism of the schoolmay be alarming, and advises that this part should be made less prominent. She says she is afraid that parents will dread the republican spirit which our system must infuse among the boys. I think she has too much good sense to think this an evil in itself—indeed, she spoke of it only as a matter of prudence as regards ourselves. She, perhaps, may be right, but I think that we may venture; because, in the first place, the republican tendency of our plans is very far from obvious, and there are very few Miss Edgeworths to find it out. And again, I think people are now beginning to be a little enlightened on the subject, and that we shall soon be on the popular side of the question, even with that class which it is our interest to please.”On their way back to Dublin, the travellers overheard two Irishmen discussing the career of Napoleon, tidings of whose death had lately arrived. One of them maintained that the failure of his Russian campaign was altogether due to a premature setting-in of the monsoons. The other modestly remarked that he had always understood that these winds were known only on the Indian Ocean. “Yes,” replied the first; “but that year they blew atremendiouslong way inland, carrying with them prodigious cold.”The brothers took the steam-packet from Dublin to Holyhead. “The captain told them that his company intended to attempt running it throughout the next winter; and cautiously remarked that he thought in a storm a steamer might even have some advantages over a sailing-vessel.”In the summer of the following year (1822), Rowland Hill again visited the Isle of Wight, accompanied by two of his younger brothers:—

“It is a pity that every good man is not also a learned and clever man. I was sorry to find that the Lord Mayor, whom I expected to be a first-rate speaker, was very deficient even in common grammar;but, nevertheless, such a man is of more service to the great cause of liberty than a hundred of your place-hunters, let their delivery be ever so elegant, and their grammar ever so correct.”

“It is a pity that every good man is not also a learned and clever man. I was sorry to find that the Lord Mayor, whom I expected to be a first-rate speaker, was very deficient even in common grammar;but, nevertheless, such a man is of more service to the great cause of liberty than a hundred of your place-hunters, let their delivery be ever so elegant, and their grammar ever so correct.”

On June 30th he visited Chantrey’s studio:—

“I left the Gallery with very great regret, and I am sure that I was sincere when I told Mr. Whitwell [the friend who had introduced him] that to him I was obliged for the greatest gratification I ever received.”

“I left the Gallery with very great regret, and I am sure that I was sincere when I told Mr. Whitwell [the friend who had introduced him] that to him I was obliged for the greatest gratification I ever received.”

The following evening he started for the Isle of Wight:—

“I left London at six in the evening for Southampton. The road lay through Brentford and Staines. Near to the latter place, in a field, I saw the place where King John signed ‘Magna Charta.’ The spot is marked by a sun-dial. I was glad to hear some of the passengers give it as their opinion that something of the kind was wanting now.“As soon as it became light, we enjoyed most delightful views of a richly-wooded country. The trees in Hampshire are the largest I ever saw, and the country is almost covered with what we consider large woods. There is not a finer sight in the world than to be elevated above an extensive wood, and to see the trees extending as far as the eye can reach, till they become scarcely distinguishable from the sky.”

“I left London at six in the evening for Southampton. The road lay through Brentford and Staines. Near to the latter place, in a field, I saw the place where King John signed ‘Magna Charta.’ The spot is marked by a sun-dial. I was glad to hear some of the passengers give it as their opinion that something of the kind was wanting now.

“As soon as it became light, we enjoyed most delightful views of a richly-wooded country. The trees in Hampshire are the largest I ever saw, and the country is almost covered with what we consider large woods. There is not a finer sight in the world than to be elevated above an extensive wood, and to see the trees extending as far as the eye can reach, till they become scarcely distinguishable from the sky.”

He went to sketch Netley Abbey:—

“While I was drawing, several parties came to visit the Abbey, and I entered into conversation with most of them. One gentleman was finding great fault with the taste of the proprietor of the Abbey. He said, ‘Now, if this was my Abbey, I’d get some masons and stop up all the holes, and I don’t know if I should not whitewash it. Would not you, Sir?’ I thought this opening speech promised fair, so that I nodded assent to induce him to go on; and he proceeded: ‘Then I’d remove all this rubbish (pointing to the masses of stonework which lay on the ground) and fetch some loads of gravel from the beach, with which I would cover the floor of the chapel, and have it rolled nice and flat; or I don’t know whether I should not lay turf instead, and keep the grass cut short, and as level as abowling-green. Then I’d build a nice thatched cottage just by the gate there for the porter to live at; but I think I should have it within the chapel, because it would add very much to its appearance. The Abbey would be worth coming to see then; but now the fellow that owns it must be a fool.’ The gentleman then asked me what I thought of his proposed alterations, and I told him that they would certainly make the chapel look veryneatandpretty. ‘Ah!’ says he, ‘I see you are a young man of taste.’ I did not think it necessary to contradict him. He wished me good morning, and walked off, and I resumed my drawing, rejoicing that the Abbey was in better hands than his.”

“While I was drawing, several parties came to visit the Abbey, and I entered into conversation with most of them. One gentleman was finding great fault with the taste of the proprietor of the Abbey. He said, ‘Now, if this was my Abbey, I’d get some masons and stop up all the holes, and I don’t know if I should not whitewash it. Would not you, Sir?’ I thought this opening speech promised fair, so that I nodded assent to induce him to go on; and he proceeded: ‘Then I’d remove all this rubbish (pointing to the masses of stonework which lay on the ground) and fetch some loads of gravel from the beach, with which I would cover the floor of the chapel, and have it rolled nice and flat; or I don’t know whether I should not lay turf instead, and keep the grass cut short, and as level as abowling-green. Then I’d build a nice thatched cottage just by the gate there for the porter to live at; but I think I should have it within the chapel, because it would add very much to its appearance. The Abbey would be worth coming to see then; but now the fellow that owns it must be a fool.’ The gentleman then asked me what I thought of his proposed alterations, and I told him that they would certainly make the chapel look veryneatandpretty. ‘Ah!’ says he, ‘I see you are a young man of taste.’ I did not think it necessary to contradict him. He wished me good morning, and walked off, and I resumed my drawing, rejoicing that the Abbey was in better hands than his.”

Crossing over to the Isle of Wight he passed through the village of Freshwater:—

“Wishing to be acquainted with the etymology of the name Freshwater, I asked the sailors if the water in the bay was not so salt as the sea-water generally is. ‘Oh, yes,’ they replied, ‘it’s all alike.’ ‘What, then, is the reason of the names Freshwater Town and Freshwater Bay?’ I inquired. ‘Why, they are in Freshwater parish to be sure,’ was the reply.”

“Wishing to be acquainted with the etymology of the name Freshwater, I asked the sailors if the water in the bay was not so salt as the sea-water generally is. ‘Oh, yes,’ they replied, ‘it’s all alike.’ ‘What, then, is the reason of the names Freshwater Town and Freshwater Bay?’ I inquired. ‘Why, they are in Freshwater parish to be sure,’ was the reply.”

On his way home he saw Stonehenge:—

“It is certain that great numbers of the stones have been carried off (I suppose in pieces), and afterwards used in building, as Inigo Jones mentions in his account of Stonehenge that such was the case between two different periods at which he visited the Temple. What must be the feelings of those who could, for the sake of the value of stones as building materials, disturb and destroy so venerable, so interesting a monument of antiquity, I cannot guess. I think it would be well if the government of the country would purchase this and every other valuable antiquity of the island, and preserve them as much as possible from injury.”

“It is certain that great numbers of the stones have been carried off (I suppose in pieces), and afterwards used in building, as Inigo Jones mentions in his account of Stonehenge that such was the case between two different periods at which he visited the Temple. What must be the feelings of those who could, for the sake of the value of stones as building materials, disturb and destroy so venerable, so interesting a monument of antiquity, I cannot guess. I think it would be well if the government of the country would purchase this and every other valuable antiquity of the island, and preserve them as much as possible from injury.”

In one of the papers that he drew up in his old age, he thus describes his last visit to Stonehenge:—

“We also went to see Stonehenge, for about the tenth time in my life, since whenever there was a chance to visit this most interesting and much controverted antiquity I never failed to take advantage of it. But this, my last visit, was a very different affair indeed from my first in 1817. Forty-three years before I had set out forStonehenge, in company with my father, breakfasting on the way at a small inn, a mile or two from the place. While my father rested I went, sketch-book in hand, to the so-called Druidic temple. Not a creature, human or animal, was in sight, not even the ‘Shepherd of Salisbury Plain’ himself. I was alone with the wonderful stone monument, and nothing but the sky and the vast downs in sight. By-and-by came a shepherd, chatty and communicative, with fifteen hundred sheep, and thus only was my solitude broken upon. But to-day (1860) what a change! Easy communication and love of locomotion had vulgarized even Stonehenge. We found a crowd of people making noisy the place, and rudely shattering my early peaceful associations.”

“We also went to see Stonehenge, for about the tenth time in my life, since whenever there was a chance to visit this most interesting and much controverted antiquity I never failed to take advantage of it. But this, my last visit, was a very different affair indeed from my first in 1817. Forty-three years before I had set out forStonehenge, in company with my father, breakfasting on the way at a small inn, a mile or two from the place. While my father rested I went, sketch-book in hand, to the so-called Druidic temple. Not a creature, human or animal, was in sight, not even the ‘Shepherd of Salisbury Plain’ himself. I was alone with the wonderful stone monument, and nothing but the sky and the vast downs in sight. By-and-by came a shepherd, chatty and communicative, with fifteen hundred sheep, and thus only was my solitude broken upon. But to-day (1860) what a change! Easy communication and love of locomotion had vulgarized even Stonehenge. We found a crowd of people making noisy the place, and rudely shattering my early peaceful associations.”

In April, 1817, he had recorded his “intention of making experiments to ascertain the comparative nourishment which is derived from different kinds of food.” In the following January he records the result:—

“My engagements this half-year are such as will not allow me to continue my experiments upon food, as I am obliged to be out very much. I have, therefore, brought my experiments to a conclusion without having completed them. But, however, I have ascertained some remarkable facts, as the Journal will show, and I hope that my trouble will not altogether be thrown away.“COPY OF THE JOURNAL RESPECTING DIET.“April 15th, 1817.—I was thinking yesterday that little was known of the comparative nutriment which we receive from the different kinds of food we eat, and I then determined to try a few experiments, from the results of which a table may be formed showing the comparative value of the principal kinds of food upon which we live. It is also my intention to notice the effects which each kind of fare has upon my health.“I shall live three days upon each of the principal kinds of food, and take nothing else except coffee, tea, and water. I shall always drink three cups of coffee at my breakfast, three cups of tea at my tea, and as much water as I feel inclined for. With my meat and potatoes I shall allow myself salt, but nothing else.“That, at the time I am eating one kind of food, I may feel no effects from the kind which I eat before, it is my intention, afterhaving lived three days upon any particular food, to take the usual fare for the next three days, and so on.“Before I enter on my Journal, I will say something of the usual state of my health. For the last year or two I have suffered much from the headache: I have almost constantly been troubled with bile; but a few days ago I made a tour to Liverpool, which I found to improve the state of my health considerably, and since my return I have been tolerably well.“I began my experiments this morning: during this day and the two next I shall eat nothing but dry bread untoasted. I have taken a stale quartern loaf, which weighed 4 lbs. 4 oz. It is made partly of old flour, and partly of that of last year, which was very bad. The loaf is rather moist, and a little brown. It came from the old Union Mill, and cost one shilling and fourpence half-penny.“It is now seven o’clock at night. I have made three meals from it, and have eaten about one-third, which is less than I expected I should eat. I have not stinted myself at all. I am much the same in every respect as I was yesterday, only that I feel as though I had eaten too much. I do not know whether I shall be able to eat any supper.“April 16th.—I eat a little supper last night. I have been much the same to-day as I was yesterday.“April 17th, 6.30 p.m.—I have not been quite so well to-day as I was yesterday. I am troubled very much with the bile and the headache. I have a good deal of the loaf left, more, I think, than will last me for supper. My mother says there has been a visible alteration for the worse in my appearance since the commencement of the three days.“9.45.—I have just finished my loaf and supper. I made no point of exactly finishing the loaf: it is merely accidental.“April 20th.—During this and the two last days I have fared as usual. Still troubled with the bile and headache, though not so unwell as before.“The next three days I shall eat nothing but bread and butter, the bread of the same kind as before.”

“My engagements this half-year are such as will not allow me to continue my experiments upon food, as I am obliged to be out very much. I have, therefore, brought my experiments to a conclusion without having completed them. But, however, I have ascertained some remarkable facts, as the Journal will show, and I hope that my trouble will not altogether be thrown away.

“COPY OF THE JOURNAL RESPECTING DIET.

“April 15th, 1817.—I was thinking yesterday that little was known of the comparative nutriment which we receive from the different kinds of food we eat, and I then determined to try a few experiments, from the results of which a table may be formed showing the comparative value of the principal kinds of food upon which we live. It is also my intention to notice the effects which each kind of fare has upon my health.

“I shall live three days upon each of the principal kinds of food, and take nothing else except coffee, tea, and water. I shall always drink three cups of coffee at my breakfast, three cups of tea at my tea, and as much water as I feel inclined for. With my meat and potatoes I shall allow myself salt, but nothing else.

“That, at the time I am eating one kind of food, I may feel no effects from the kind which I eat before, it is my intention, afterhaving lived three days upon any particular food, to take the usual fare for the next three days, and so on.

“Before I enter on my Journal, I will say something of the usual state of my health. For the last year or two I have suffered much from the headache: I have almost constantly been troubled with bile; but a few days ago I made a tour to Liverpool, which I found to improve the state of my health considerably, and since my return I have been tolerably well.

“I began my experiments this morning: during this day and the two next I shall eat nothing but dry bread untoasted. I have taken a stale quartern loaf, which weighed 4 lbs. 4 oz. It is made partly of old flour, and partly of that of last year, which was very bad. The loaf is rather moist, and a little brown. It came from the old Union Mill, and cost one shilling and fourpence half-penny.

“It is now seven o’clock at night. I have made three meals from it, and have eaten about one-third, which is less than I expected I should eat. I have not stinted myself at all. I am much the same in every respect as I was yesterday, only that I feel as though I had eaten too much. I do not know whether I shall be able to eat any supper.

“April 16th.—I eat a little supper last night. I have been much the same to-day as I was yesterday.

“April 17th, 6.30 p.m.—I have not been quite so well to-day as I was yesterday. I am troubled very much with the bile and the headache. I have a good deal of the loaf left, more, I think, than will last me for supper. My mother says there has been a visible alteration for the worse in my appearance since the commencement of the three days.

“9.45.—I have just finished my loaf and supper. I made no point of exactly finishing the loaf: it is merely accidental.

“April 20th.—During this and the two last days I have fared as usual. Still troubled with the bile and headache, though not so unwell as before.

“The next three days I shall eat nothing but bread and butter, the bread of the same kind as before.”

He next tried dry toast, cold toast and butter, hot toast and butter, bread and bacon, bread and cheese, rice pudding, boiled green pease and salt, damson-pie and sugar, bread and sugar; living for three days on each article. It is not, perhaps, surprising that, inthe course of the experiments, he one day records “an acute pain in my left side nearly the whole of the day.”

The next entry that I quote is of a very different kind:—

“February 15th, 1819.—Campbell, the poet, is now in Birmingham. He is engaged by the Philosophical Society to deliver a course of twelve lectures on poetry. This morning he called here to put his son under our care during his stay in Birmingham. We consider this a feather in our cap.“March 2nd.—Young Campbell, who is about fifteen, is a boy of talent. He has never been at a school, but has been educated at home by his father. Mr. Campbell is so pleased with what we are doing for the boy, that he says he should like exceedingly to leave him with us; but, as he is an only child, he cannot persuade Mrs. Campbell to part with him.“March 12th.—Yesterday, Mr. Campbell dined with us. He is a very pleasant man in company. He related a great number of pleasing anecdotes; but he did not answer the expectations I had formed of the poet Campbell.[62]“August 22nd, 1819.—The people of Birmingham have taken the first decisive step towards parliamentary reform. A town’s meeting has been held at New Hall Hill for the purpose of considering the best means of obtaining the representation of all the unrepresented people of England, and particularly those of Birmingham. At this meeting an immense concourse of people assembled; some accounts say eighty thousand. I was present, and witnessed nearly the whole proceedings. It was unanimously resolved to appoint Sir Charles Wolseley representative of Birmingham, with directions to make every effort to obtain a seat in the House of Commons when it shall again assemble after the present vacation. The object of this meeting was treated by the opposite party with the greatest ridicule; but that it deserves anything rather than ridicule is manifest from thealarm it has evidently excited in the minds of the supporters of the present system.“At our Birmingham meeting the people conducted themselves with the greatest decorum. Our magistrates had the good sense not to provoke them by the presence of the military, and the immense assembly dispersed without the least mischief being done.”

“February 15th, 1819.—Campbell, the poet, is now in Birmingham. He is engaged by the Philosophical Society to deliver a course of twelve lectures on poetry. This morning he called here to put his son under our care during his stay in Birmingham. We consider this a feather in our cap.

“March 2nd.—Young Campbell, who is about fifteen, is a boy of talent. He has never been at a school, but has been educated at home by his father. Mr. Campbell is so pleased with what we are doing for the boy, that he says he should like exceedingly to leave him with us; but, as he is an only child, he cannot persuade Mrs. Campbell to part with him.

“March 12th.—Yesterday, Mr. Campbell dined with us. He is a very pleasant man in company. He related a great number of pleasing anecdotes; but he did not answer the expectations I had formed of the poet Campbell.[62]

“August 22nd, 1819.—The people of Birmingham have taken the first decisive step towards parliamentary reform. A town’s meeting has been held at New Hall Hill for the purpose of considering the best means of obtaining the representation of all the unrepresented people of England, and particularly those of Birmingham. At this meeting an immense concourse of people assembled; some accounts say eighty thousand. I was present, and witnessed nearly the whole proceedings. It was unanimously resolved to appoint Sir Charles Wolseley representative of Birmingham, with directions to make every effort to obtain a seat in the House of Commons when it shall again assemble after the present vacation. The object of this meeting was treated by the opposite party with the greatest ridicule; but that it deserves anything rather than ridicule is manifest from thealarm it has evidently excited in the minds of the supporters of the present system.

“At our Birmingham meeting the people conducted themselves with the greatest decorum. Our magistrates had the good sense not to provoke them by the presence of the military, and the immense assembly dispersed without the least mischief being done.”

“August 10th.—A few days ago I accompanied my brother Matthew to Warwick, to assist him in preparations for the defence of Major Cartwright, who was tried at the Assizes just concluded. The offence charged against him, and the others who were tried with him, was the election of a legislatorial attorney or representative of the people of Birmingham (Sir Charles Wolseley). My brother was engaged for the major, Denman for Edmonds and Maddocks, and Wooller and Lewis defended themselves. The trial occupied two whole days, the Court sitting to a late hour each day. The speeches of Denman, Matthew, and Wooller were, I think, the most eloquent I ever heard; but in spite of justice, reason, and everything else but the advice of the Judge, the blockheads in the jury-box gave a verdict of guilty.... Matthew, as usual, received the compliments of the Judge. He is rising very fast into fame.”

“August 10th.—A few days ago I accompanied my brother Matthew to Warwick, to assist him in preparations for the defence of Major Cartwright, who was tried at the Assizes just concluded. The offence charged against him, and the others who were tried with him, was the election of a legislatorial attorney or representative of the people of Birmingham (Sir Charles Wolseley). My brother was engaged for the major, Denman for Edmonds and Maddocks, and Wooller and Lewis defended themselves. The trial occupied two whole days, the Court sitting to a late hour each day. The speeches of Denman, Matthew, and Wooller were, I think, the most eloquent I ever heard; but in spite of justice, reason, and everything else but the advice of the Judge, the blockheads in the jury-box gave a verdict of guilty.... Matthew, as usual, received the compliments of the Judge. He is rising very fast into fame.”

Thirteen years later, when the Reform Bill was carried, the great town of Birmingham was at last represented in Parliament. “They have made me Chairman of Attwood’s Committee,” wrote old Mr. Hill to his eldest son, who was at that time a candidate for Hull.... “I am glad that you like what I spoke at the town’s meeting. All I said came from the heart as prompted by a sincere affection for liberty, goodness, and truth. Still the fervour of delivery was not the less because Attwood and Birmingham had common cause with Hill and Hull.” In that town in which, more than forty years before, he had braved the violence of a Tory mob, the old man had now the high honour of being called upon to propose, on the nomination day, the election of the first representative that Birmingham ever sent to the Commons House of Parliament.

It was in July, 1819, that the new school-house was opened at Edgbaston with the happiest promise. Little more than a year later it was almost destroyed by fire:—

“Everything (Rowland Hill recorded in his Journal) seemed to be in a prosperous condition. We anticipated being shortly able to pay all the expenses incurred in our building and removal, when an event happened which plunged us all into the deepest distress.“On the morning of Wednesday, the 23rd of August, 1820, I was awaked at five in the morning by the monitor entering my room to take the keys of the lower rooms. I inquired what was the time, and was glad to find that it wanted an hour of the time at which I usually rose. I turned in my bed, and in a moment was again asleep, little thinking of the destruction which, in all probability, had then commenced. In about half-an-hour I was again awaked, by two or three boys running into my room, with the alarming information that the rooms in the roof were on fire.“In a moment I was in the roof rooms with my brothers, who slept in the same chamber as myself. These rooms were even then so full of smoke that it was difficult to discern the objects near to us. The fire we found to be in a closet opening into one of these rooms; the flames appeared through the crevices of the door, which, never having been painted, appeared almost transparent with the strong light within. The first impulse was to endeavour to open the door and to throw in water, which some had brought from the chambers below; but in this we did not succeed, and, after a moment’s reflection, we gave up the attempt, judging it best to confine the flames as much as possible, for had the door been opened they would have burst upon us in such a manner as to have driven us at once from the room. The whole family had now caught the alarm. [In the midst of the alarm Rowland Hill remembered that his eldest brother’s wife, who, with her husband, happened to be staying in the house, was in a delicate state ofhealth. He went to their room, and, quietly beckoning his brother out, in the hope of saving her a sudden shock, told him that the house was on fire.] After hastily slipping on a few clothes, some began to remove the furniture from the different rooms.... In a few moments we were all roused from a deep sleep, and plunged into the most active and distressing employment. No one can be surprised that at first the bustle and alarm should be such as to prevent our taking, perhaps, the best possible means to prevent the ravages of the fire; it has since struck us that by taking off some of the slates it is possible that we should have been able to throw water upon the fire and retard it, if not put it quite out; but this was not thought of at the moment, and the time during which there would have been any chance of success lasted but for a few minutes.“The first anxiety was for the safety of the boys; but, as the fire was over their heads, alarm on that account soon subsided. As soon as they had risen they began to throw their bedding out at the windows, and to remove the other furniture of the rooms, and even in the midst of all the bustle and anxiety I could not but admire the activity and presence of mind on the part of the boys. We are indebted to them more than to any other individuals that the loss, though it was very great, was not still more ruinous.”

“Everything (Rowland Hill recorded in his Journal) seemed to be in a prosperous condition. We anticipated being shortly able to pay all the expenses incurred in our building and removal, when an event happened which plunged us all into the deepest distress.

“On the morning of Wednesday, the 23rd of August, 1820, I was awaked at five in the morning by the monitor entering my room to take the keys of the lower rooms. I inquired what was the time, and was glad to find that it wanted an hour of the time at which I usually rose. I turned in my bed, and in a moment was again asleep, little thinking of the destruction which, in all probability, had then commenced. In about half-an-hour I was again awaked, by two or three boys running into my room, with the alarming information that the rooms in the roof were on fire.

“In a moment I was in the roof rooms with my brothers, who slept in the same chamber as myself. These rooms were even then so full of smoke that it was difficult to discern the objects near to us. The fire we found to be in a closet opening into one of these rooms; the flames appeared through the crevices of the door, which, never having been painted, appeared almost transparent with the strong light within. The first impulse was to endeavour to open the door and to throw in water, which some had brought from the chambers below; but in this we did not succeed, and, after a moment’s reflection, we gave up the attempt, judging it best to confine the flames as much as possible, for had the door been opened they would have burst upon us in such a manner as to have driven us at once from the room. The whole family had now caught the alarm. [In the midst of the alarm Rowland Hill remembered that his eldest brother’s wife, who, with her husband, happened to be staying in the house, was in a delicate state ofhealth. He went to their room, and, quietly beckoning his brother out, in the hope of saving her a sudden shock, told him that the house was on fire.] After hastily slipping on a few clothes, some began to remove the furniture from the different rooms.... In a few moments we were all roused from a deep sleep, and plunged into the most active and distressing employment. No one can be surprised that at first the bustle and alarm should be such as to prevent our taking, perhaps, the best possible means to prevent the ravages of the fire; it has since struck us that by taking off some of the slates it is possible that we should have been able to throw water upon the fire and retard it, if not put it quite out; but this was not thought of at the moment, and the time during which there would have been any chance of success lasted but for a few minutes.

“The first anxiety was for the safety of the boys; but, as the fire was over their heads, alarm on that account soon subsided. As soon as they had risen they began to throw their bedding out at the windows, and to remove the other furniture of the rooms, and even in the midst of all the bustle and anxiety I could not but admire the activity and presence of mind on the part of the boys. We are indebted to them more than to any other individuals that the loss, though it was very great, was not still more ruinous.”

The fire began in a closet under the roof. It was so close to the staircase that all communication with the other rooms on the attic floor was soon cut off.

“Order was somewhat restored among us—as much, perhaps, as it could be under such circumstances; each of the elders among us having taken the direction of certain things, with a number of boys and others under his control, when a new cause of alarm arose. It was recollected by my mother that one of the servant girls, with a poor woman who came the day before to do some sewing, slept in the bed which I have mentioned [it was a bed in one of the roof rooms, which was occasionally used by sewing and washing women], and it was found that the girl only had escaped. I was at the front of the house giving directions respecting the procuring of water when I learnt this alarming news. I immediately ran upstairs, passed my father, who was then on his way to rescue the woman, and who generously tried to prevent my going by taking the risk upon himself; rushed through the room in which was the fire intothe next, and, taking the woman from the bed, on which she lay in a fainting fit, carried her in my arms to the top of the stairs. I could do no more: although the whole was but the work of a minute, such was the effect of the alarm and of the dense smoke which I had breathed, that I loosed her, and she was caught by those who stood upon the stairs. I myself staggered down one or two steps, and should have fallen had I not been caught by one of those who stood about. A few minutes were sufficient for me to recover my strength. How the woman revived I do not know, but I saw her soon after, apparently well, watching the furniture at the front of the house.“It afterwards appeared that the girl, awaked by the smoke, called her bedfellow, ran downstairs and alarmed those who slept on the first floor, about the same time that the discovery was made by the boy who slept under the closet, and who saw the fire as he lay in bed, through a ventilator in the ceiling which opened through the floor of the closet. The woman, instead of following her companion, actuated by one of those inexplicable motives which sometimes influence the conduct of the uneducated, remained in the room very deliberately dressing herself, and I afterwards learned that when I carried her out of the room her stays were very regularly laced. When she did attempt an escape, owing to her alarm, her want of knowledge of the arrangement of the rooms, and the density of the smoke, she was unable to find the door, and, after groping about the room some time, she said that she ‘threw herself on the bed, and gave herself up for lost.’ Next to effecting her escape, or making some noise which would have alarmed those who were about, throwing herself on the bed was the best thing; for had she been elsewhere I never should have found her, as the smoke was so thick that I could not discover a single object in the room, and only found the bed by knowing its situation from having been frequently in the room. If we had known at the time we were in the next room, immediately after the first alarm, that she was there, she would have been rescued without any difficulty. The poor woman’s obstinacy cost her her life, for although she was not in the least burnt, yet such was the effect of the smoke upon her lungs, together with the alarm, that the next day she became exceedingly ill, and although we procured for her the best medical advice the town afforded, she died in a few days. The surgeon who attended her said that she died of a disease to which she had long been subject, an enlargement of the heart, which was brought on in this instance by the causes I have before stated.“The engines arrived shortly after. I had provided for them a stock of water by placing some large tubs in the front of the house, which we filled with water before the engines came. One of our pumps was undergoing repairs at the time, so that it did not afford us any water. The other very soon became dry; but we found an excellent supply from a pit a little nearer to the town, on the right side of the road. Five men, for the promise of five shillings each, stood in the water to fill the buckets, and such was the rapidity of the supply, that not one of the engines was for an instant without water.“By about eight the engines ceased to play—the fire was extinguished. Till this time so actively had I been engaged, that I believe I had not time to reflect upon the consequences of this accident. But now all was over. Exertion was no further of any use. In informing my father that such was the state of things, my throat felt as stopped, and the tears came to my eyes. I went upstairs, and to the top of the house. The whole of the roof, excepting that part over the school-room, was destroyed. Two or three of the beams, reduced to charcoal, remained in their places, and a few of the slates still rested upon some of the bending rafters; the rest was bare to the sky. In some places the rubbish was still smoking. To extinguish this completely, and to search every place to be certain that all was safe, occupied my attention for a time; but the consideration of the probable effect this accident might have on our future success would obtrude itself on my mind. We had insured the house and furniture, but for a small sum; the first for £500, the latter for £250, and I soon saw that the loss would be considerable.“In order to throw the water immediately upon the fire, we raised a ladder which had been made a few months before to be in readiness in case of such an accident. Up this the firemen carried their pipes, and played almost directly upon the flames.”

“Order was somewhat restored among us—as much, perhaps, as it could be under such circumstances; each of the elders among us having taken the direction of certain things, with a number of boys and others under his control, when a new cause of alarm arose. It was recollected by my mother that one of the servant girls, with a poor woman who came the day before to do some sewing, slept in the bed which I have mentioned [it was a bed in one of the roof rooms, which was occasionally used by sewing and washing women], and it was found that the girl only had escaped. I was at the front of the house giving directions respecting the procuring of water when I learnt this alarming news. I immediately ran upstairs, passed my father, who was then on his way to rescue the woman, and who generously tried to prevent my going by taking the risk upon himself; rushed through the room in which was the fire intothe next, and, taking the woman from the bed, on which she lay in a fainting fit, carried her in my arms to the top of the stairs. I could do no more: although the whole was but the work of a minute, such was the effect of the alarm and of the dense smoke which I had breathed, that I loosed her, and she was caught by those who stood upon the stairs. I myself staggered down one or two steps, and should have fallen had I not been caught by one of those who stood about. A few minutes were sufficient for me to recover my strength. How the woman revived I do not know, but I saw her soon after, apparently well, watching the furniture at the front of the house.

“It afterwards appeared that the girl, awaked by the smoke, called her bedfellow, ran downstairs and alarmed those who slept on the first floor, about the same time that the discovery was made by the boy who slept under the closet, and who saw the fire as he lay in bed, through a ventilator in the ceiling which opened through the floor of the closet. The woman, instead of following her companion, actuated by one of those inexplicable motives which sometimes influence the conduct of the uneducated, remained in the room very deliberately dressing herself, and I afterwards learned that when I carried her out of the room her stays were very regularly laced. When she did attempt an escape, owing to her alarm, her want of knowledge of the arrangement of the rooms, and the density of the smoke, she was unable to find the door, and, after groping about the room some time, she said that she ‘threw herself on the bed, and gave herself up for lost.’ Next to effecting her escape, or making some noise which would have alarmed those who were about, throwing herself on the bed was the best thing; for had she been elsewhere I never should have found her, as the smoke was so thick that I could not discover a single object in the room, and only found the bed by knowing its situation from having been frequently in the room. If we had known at the time we were in the next room, immediately after the first alarm, that she was there, she would have been rescued without any difficulty. The poor woman’s obstinacy cost her her life, for although she was not in the least burnt, yet such was the effect of the smoke upon her lungs, together with the alarm, that the next day she became exceedingly ill, and although we procured for her the best medical advice the town afforded, she died in a few days. The surgeon who attended her said that she died of a disease to which she had long been subject, an enlargement of the heart, which was brought on in this instance by the causes I have before stated.

“The engines arrived shortly after. I had provided for them a stock of water by placing some large tubs in the front of the house, which we filled with water before the engines came. One of our pumps was undergoing repairs at the time, so that it did not afford us any water. The other very soon became dry; but we found an excellent supply from a pit a little nearer to the town, on the right side of the road. Five men, for the promise of five shillings each, stood in the water to fill the buckets, and such was the rapidity of the supply, that not one of the engines was for an instant without water.

“By about eight the engines ceased to play—the fire was extinguished. Till this time so actively had I been engaged, that I believe I had not time to reflect upon the consequences of this accident. But now all was over. Exertion was no further of any use. In informing my father that such was the state of things, my throat felt as stopped, and the tears came to my eyes. I went upstairs, and to the top of the house. The whole of the roof, excepting that part over the school-room, was destroyed. Two or three of the beams, reduced to charcoal, remained in their places, and a few of the slates still rested upon some of the bending rafters; the rest was bare to the sky. In some places the rubbish was still smoking. To extinguish this completely, and to search every place to be certain that all was safe, occupied my attention for a time; but the consideration of the probable effect this accident might have on our future success would obtrude itself on my mind. We had insured the house and furniture, but for a small sum; the first for £500, the latter for £250, and I soon saw that the loss would be considerable.

“In order to throw the water immediately upon the fire, we raised a ladder which had been made a few months before to be in readiness in case of such an accident. Up this the firemen carried their pipes, and played almost directly upon the flames.”

Among the firemen on the crumbling roof, directing and aiding them, was his brother Edwin. “Observing that one of the men had difficulty in reaching a place where the flames remained unsubdued, he seized one of the largest slates, and so held it as to deflect the stream, all this being done while his bride stood in anxiety below.”

“Another pipe was carried up the stairs, and threw its water upon the fire through an opening over the back stairs. This engine was very effective, till a scoundrel (and there were several about who took advantage of the confusion to plunder the house), in order to make the confusion still greater, stamped upon the pipe and burst it. A fireman who saw this, took a short staff out of his pocket and gave the fellow a blow on his head, which sent him completely downstairs. I did not know of this till after the fire was over and the rascal had escaped, otherwise he should have been dealt with as he deserved. I cannot think of any crime which so completely shows the absence of all good feeling as to take advantage of another’s misfortunes, and even to increase them for the sake of plunder.“It was necessary to do much immediately. We had all risen in the greatest haste, and were but half-dressed. The poor boys had lost all their clothes, except such as were on their backs, and some which were then at the washerwoman’s,—for their trunks, which were kept in one of the roof rooms, were destroyed. We were all wet, hungry, tired, and distressed. The house was completely swilled throughout with the immense quantity of water which had been thrown upon it, so that it was impossible to inhabit it immediately. Our family consisted of almost eighty individuals, who were at that moment houseless. The kindness of our friends and neighbours, however, soon relieved us of part of our anxiety. They provided us with clean linen, shoes, and everything we could want. A lady who keeps a female school on the opposite side of the road, kindly lent the boys a change of stockings. Our good friend, Miss Bache, came with her servants laden with food for breakfast, which was eaten by some in the garden. One or two gentlemen undertook the care of the house and furniture; others led away the people who had assisted to the ‘Plough and Harrow,’ where they were refreshed with bread and cheese and ale, and all pressed us to leave the place for a time and recruit our strength. The boys were divided amongst the neighbours, who took them to their houses. Mr. and Mrs. Busby, than whom kinder-hearted people never existed, claimed a right to receive our own family, as being the nearest neighbours. Here we breakfasted. It was a sad meal, each trying to appear as little affected as possible, in order to keep up the spirits of the others. If anything could have removed our distress, it would have been accomplished by the kindness of our friends, which no doubt did very much to alleviate it. Invitations for ourselves and the boys—not only from our immediate friends, but also from gentlemen whose names we scarcely knew,—poured inupon us, and if our family had been ten times as numerous, they would have been disposed of with greater ease than was the case; for the offers of assistance were so earnest and so numerous, that it was painful to be obliged to refuse such as we could not accept.“Our friend, Mr. Witton, offered us the use of the whole of his house at Kitwell ready furnished. Mr. Blakeway, another of our friends, made an offer, which we gladly accepted, of a house of his in Tenant Street, which then stood empty. In this we determined to put up the beds, most of which had been saved, and use it as a lodging-house till our own could be repaired.“We were anxious to inform the friends of the children as soon as possible of the accident, in order to prevent that alarm which the exaggerated accounts in the first instance generally circulated on such an occasion would raise. This was undertaken by a friend; but, notwithstanding the precaution, the good people of Kidderminster, from which town we had several boys, were terribly alarmed. An uncle of a boy named H——, whose friends reside at Kidderminster, happened to be in Birmingham at the time of the fire. As soon as the news reached him, he wrote to his sister (the boy’s mother), to prevent any uneasiness which she might have felt had she heard a wrong account from another quarter. In his haste he incautiously made use of the following expression: ‘Hazelwood is burnt down, but Henry is safe.’ The report was immediately circulated in Kidderminster that the house was burnt down, and that all the boys except H—— were burnt. The friends of the other children were in a state of the greatest anxiety. The father of one of the boys immediately rode over in the greatest haste. He was soon followed by another. I need not say how glad they were to see their children.“During the course of the day the friends of many of the children arrived, and took their sons home. This, though it relieved us of the care of them, made us anxious whether an impression might not get abroad, that either we were particularly careless or very unlucky; the more so, as an alarm of the same kind, sufficient to induce us to send for the engines, although they had nothing to do when they arrived, took place the winter before. We now began to place the furniture in the school-room and the chamber over, as this part of the house had not been injured by the fire or the water. Some also took precautions to defend the house from further injury by rain. To accomplish this, we borrowed a great quantity of tarpaulin from the different carriers in the town, by means of which a temporaryroof was constructed. I engaged a number of men to remove the rubbish which had fallen with the roof and ceilings upon the floors of the garrets, and to riddle it in order that nothing valuable might be lost. The quantity of rubbish collected amounted to several wagon-loads. Frederic, and I slept at night in the school-room to guard the house. We had also a watchman on the outside. The other part of the family slept at the neighbours’ houses.“The next day the family again assembled at dinner at the house of my brother Edwin. We now made arrangements for restoring things as soon as possible. One undertook the repairs of the building; another those of the furniture; one to make out the account for the Fire Office; another to prepare the house in Tenant Street. Printed circular-letters were sent to our friends as soon as possible, expressive of our gratitude for the kindness we had met with, and stating our intention of resuming the business of the school on the Thursday following—that is, eight days after the fire.“Besides the injury done to the roof, the floors of the rooms in that part of the house, and the garret ceilings, were almost completely destroyed. The garret floors were much injured by the burning wood which fell upon them, and they doubtless would have been destroyed altogether, but that persons were engaged, at a considerable risk, in throwing water upon the blazing timbers as they fell, before the engines arrived. The walls and ceilings of the lower rooms were also much injured by the water.“The school assembled on the day appointed. Till the roof was completed the boys slept in Tenant Street; when that was done they occupied the chambers of the house, a part of our own family sleeping from home. It was not till Christmas that we were enabled to reinstate everything.“Among the things destroyed in the flames, almost every one of us has lost something which he valued highly. My brother Arthur has lost the accounts of some tours which he has taken at various times; Howard has lost a copy of Mavor’s ‘British Tourist,’ which he gained as a prize in the school. But in things of that description I have been the greatest sufferer. I have lost all my original drawings, six in number, which were framed and glazed. I made these drawings when I was quite a boy, and for that reason I valued them. At Hill Top they hung in the parlour, but when we removed they were put in one of the roof rooms till a convenient opportunity should occur to hang them up. The electrical planisphere, representing the southern sky, and the water-alarum, both of which I have described in these memoirs, were consumed in the flames. I valuedthese because they were the best specimens I possessed of my boyish handicraft.“I have not yet lost the impression which this accident made upon my mind. My sleep is frequently broken by dreaming of fire; when awake I often suppose that I smell smoke; and it is not till I am out of bed that I can convince myself that I have been deceived. It is remarkable that at the present time, and, indeed, immediately after the fire, I remembered but little of what took place; although the roof fell in, and the flames were seen at a great distance from the house, I have no recollection of noticing either; yet I was more than once on different parts of the roof, giving directions to the firemen.”

“Another pipe was carried up the stairs, and threw its water upon the fire through an opening over the back stairs. This engine was very effective, till a scoundrel (and there were several about who took advantage of the confusion to plunder the house), in order to make the confusion still greater, stamped upon the pipe and burst it. A fireman who saw this, took a short staff out of his pocket and gave the fellow a blow on his head, which sent him completely downstairs. I did not know of this till after the fire was over and the rascal had escaped, otherwise he should have been dealt with as he deserved. I cannot think of any crime which so completely shows the absence of all good feeling as to take advantage of another’s misfortunes, and even to increase them for the sake of plunder.

“It was necessary to do much immediately. We had all risen in the greatest haste, and were but half-dressed. The poor boys had lost all their clothes, except such as were on their backs, and some which were then at the washerwoman’s,—for their trunks, which were kept in one of the roof rooms, were destroyed. We were all wet, hungry, tired, and distressed. The house was completely swilled throughout with the immense quantity of water which had been thrown upon it, so that it was impossible to inhabit it immediately. Our family consisted of almost eighty individuals, who were at that moment houseless. The kindness of our friends and neighbours, however, soon relieved us of part of our anxiety. They provided us with clean linen, shoes, and everything we could want. A lady who keeps a female school on the opposite side of the road, kindly lent the boys a change of stockings. Our good friend, Miss Bache, came with her servants laden with food for breakfast, which was eaten by some in the garden. One or two gentlemen undertook the care of the house and furniture; others led away the people who had assisted to the ‘Plough and Harrow,’ where they were refreshed with bread and cheese and ale, and all pressed us to leave the place for a time and recruit our strength. The boys were divided amongst the neighbours, who took them to their houses. Mr. and Mrs. Busby, than whom kinder-hearted people never existed, claimed a right to receive our own family, as being the nearest neighbours. Here we breakfasted. It was a sad meal, each trying to appear as little affected as possible, in order to keep up the spirits of the others. If anything could have removed our distress, it would have been accomplished by the kindness of our friends, which no doubt did very much to alleviate it. Invitations for ourselves and the boys—not only from our immediate friends, but also from gentlemen whose names we scarcely knew,—poured inupon us, and if our family had been ten times as numerous, they would have been disposed of with greater ease than was the case; for the offers of assistance were so earnest and so numerous, that it was painful to be obliged to refuse such as we could not accept.

“Our friend, Mr. Witton, offered us the use of the whole of his house at Kitwell ready furnished. Mr. Blakeway, another of our friends, made an offer, which we gladly accepted, of a house of his in Tenant Street, which then stood empty. In this we determined to put up the beds, most of which had been saved, and use it as a lodging-house till our own could be repaired.

“We were anxious to inform the friends of the children as soon as possible of the accident, in order to prevent that alarm which the exaggerated accounts in the first instance generally circulated on such an occasion would raise. This was undertaken by a friend; but, notwithstanding the precaution, the good people of Kidderminster, from which town we had several boys, were terribly alarmed. An uncle of a boy named H——, whose friends reside at Kidderminster, happened to be in Birmingham at the time of the fire. As soon as the news reached him, he wrote to his sister (the boy’s mother), to prevent any uneasiness which she might have felt had she heard a wrong account from another quarter. In his haste he incautiously made use of the following expression: ‘Hazelwood is burnt down, but Henry is safe.’ The report was immediately circulated in Kidderminster that the house was burnt down, and that all the boys except H—— were burnt. The friends of the other children were in a state of the greatest anxiety. The father of one of the boys immediately rode over in the greatest haste. He was soon followed by another. I need not say how glad they were to see their children.

“During the course of the day the friends of many of the children arrived, and took their sons home. This, though it relieved us of the care of them, made us anxious whether an impression might not get abroad, that either we were particularly careless or very unlucky; the more so, as an alarm of the same kind, sufficient to induce us to send for the engines, although they had nothing to do when they arrived, took place the winter before. We now began to place the furniture in the school-room and the chamber over, as this part of the house had not been injured by the fire or the water. Some also took precautions to defend the house from further injury by rain. To accomplish this, we borrowed a great quantity of tarpaulin from the different carriers in the town, by means of which a temporaryroof was constructed. I engaged a number of men to remove the rubbish which had fallen with the roof and ceilings upon the floors of the garrets, and to riddle it in order that nothing valuable might be lost. The quantity of rubbish collected amounted to several wagon-loads. Frederic, and I slept at night in the school-room to guard the house. We had also a watchman on the outside. The other part of the family slept at the neighbours’ houses.

“The next day the family again assembled at dinner at the house of my brother Edwin. We now made arrangements for restoring things as soon as possible. One undertook the repairs of the building; another those of the furniture; one to make out the account for the Fire Office; another to prepare the house in Tenant Street. Printed circular-letters were sent to our friends as soon as possible, expressive of our gratitude for the kindness we had met with, and stating our intention of resuming the business of the school on the Thursday following—that is, eight days after the fire.

“Besides the injury done to the roof, the floors of the rooms in that part of the house, and the garret ceilings, were almost completely destroyed. The garret floors were much injured by the burning wood which fell upon them, and they doubtless would have been destroyed altogether, but that persons were engaged, at a considerable risk, in throwing water upon the blazing timbers as they fell, before the engines arrived. The walls and ceilings of the lower rooms were also much injured by the water.

“The school assembled on the day appointed. Till the roof was completed the boys slept in Tenant Street; when that was done they occupied the chambers of the house, a part of our own family sleeping from home. It was not till Christmas that we were enabled to reinstate everything.

“Among the things destroyed in the flames, almost every one of us has lost something which he valued highly. My brother Arthur has lost the accounts of some tours which he has taken at various times; Howard has lost a copy of Mavor’s ‘British Tourist,’ which he gained as a prize in the school. But in things of that description I have been the greatest sufferer. I have lost all my original drawings, six in number, which were framed and glazed. I made these drawings when I was quite a boy, and for that reason I valued them. At Hill Top they hung in the parlour, but when we removed they were put in one of the roof rooms till a convenient opportunity should occur to hang them up. The electrical planisphere, representing the southern sky, and the water-alarum, both of which I have described in these memoirs, were consumed in the flames. I valuedthese because they were the best specimens I possessed of my boyish handicraft.

“I have not yet lost the impression which this accident made upon my mind. My sleep is frequently broken by dreaming of fire; when awake I often suppose that I smell smoke; and it is not till I am out of bed that I can convince myself that I have been deceived. It is remarkable that at the present time, and, indeed, immediately after the fire, I remembered but little of what took place; although the roof fell in, and the flames were seen at a great distance from the house, I have no recollection of noticing either; yet I was more than once on different parts of the roof, giving directions to the firemen.”

He thus accounts for the origin of the fire:—

“Upon making known the situation of things as they stood previous to the fire, it was suggested by some one that it might have originated thus. I have before said that a great quantity of carpeting, old and new, lay in the closet. An old Brussels carpet was folded up and placed on the floor of the closet; on this lay a roll of new Scotch carpet; and the whole was surmounted by a number of empty paper hat-boxes. This being the state of things, and the closet having no ceiling, it is very probable that during the heavy rains which fell a short time previous, some of the water might penetrate through the roof and wet the carpets. The rain was succeeded by some of the hottest weather I ever remember. The heat immediately under the slates would be very great; and we were told that Brussels carpeting, which is composed partly of hemp and partly of wool, if wet and afterwards exposed to heat, will ferment and fire spontaneously, in the manner that hay sometimes does. This opinion, upon inquiry, we found to be confirmed by experience. A ship in the Mediterranean took fire from the fermentation of some wet ropes stowed in the hold. A relation of ours, a builder, had his premises partly destroyed by the fermentation of a quantity of hair for plaster, placed under a shed. He knows this to have been the cause, from the circumstance of the hair’s smoking having been noticed the day preceding.”

“Upon making known the situation of things as they stood previous to the fire, it was suggested by some one that it might have originated thus. I have before said that a great quantity of carpeting, old and new, lay in the closet. An old Brussels carpet was folded up and placed on the floor of the closet; on this lay a roll of new Scotch carpet; and the whole was surmounted by a number of empty paper hat-boxes. This being the state of things, and the closet having no ceiling, it is very probable that during the heavy rains which fell a short time previous, some of the water might penetrate through the roof and wet the carpets. The rain was succeeded by some of the hottest weather I ever remember. The heat immediately under the slates would be very great; and we were told that Brussels carpeting, which is composed partly of hemp and partly of wool, if wet and afterwards exposed to heat, will ferment and fire spontaneously, in the manner that hay sometimes does. This opinion, upon inquiry, we found to be confirmed by experience. A ship in the Mediterranean took fire from the fermentation of some wet ropes stowed in the hold. A relation of ours, a builder, had his premises partly destroyed by the fermentation of a quantity of hair for plaster, placed under a shed. He knows this to have been the cause, from the circumstance of the hair’s smoking having been noticed the day preceding.”

He discusses the question of insurance:—

“The question whether or not it is wise to insure, and to what amount, appears to me a very difficult one. If a person’s property be such that the loss of his house and furniture would not be aruinous injury, then it appears to me it would be absurd for him to insure, because more than half the premium consists of duty to the Government, and by becoming his own insurance broker he saves that sum and the profit also. It appears to me also to be bad policy to insure to a great amount, because by a strange arrangement in all insurance offices, the sum paid for damage is not estimated, as it ought to be, by considering what proportion the damage bears to the whole value of the building, and paying the sufferer the same fraction of the insurance. Thus, if a house be worth £1,000, and is insured for £100, if the building is damaged to the amount of £100, the office will pay the whole of that sum; whereas I should say it ought to pay only the tenth part of £100—that is, £10; for the rate of insurance upon a large sum is no less than that upon a small one, and the probability of a house being injured to the amount of £100 is greater than the chance of its being injured to the amount of £200, still greater than the chance of its sustaining an injury to the amount of £300, and so on.“It was reasoning in this manner that induced me to insure for so small a sum; but I forgot that our risk was greater than that of our neighbours, in consequence of so many persons residing under the same roof. For this reason, and because we should not be equally well able to bear a second loss, we have now insured to a much greater amount; but I am not sure that we were not right before, and are mistaken now, because the circumstance of our having been unfortunate is no proof of error, any more than the gaining a prize in the lottery is a proof of the propriety of purchasing a ticket.“Some people have very strange ideas about insurance from fire. They appear to think that it actually prevents a fire taking place. Birmingham furnishes a remarkable instance of an error of this kind. The workhouse, which is the property of the whole town, is insured in the Birmingham Fire Office, which is supported by a comparatively small number of individuals. I wonder whether the company insures its own office? Perhaps it does in another—or perhaps in its own!”

“The question whether or not it is wise to insure, and to what amount, appears to me a very difficult one. If a person’s property be such that the loss of his house and furniture would not be aruinous injury, then it appears to me it would be absurd for him to insure, because more than half the premium consists of duty to the Government, and by becoming his own insurance broker he saves that sum and the profit also. It appears to me also to be bad policy to insure to a great amount, because by a strange arrangement in all insurance offices, the sum paid for damage is not estimated, as it ought to be, by considering what proportion the damage bears to the whole value of the building, and paying the sufferer the same fraction of the insurance. Thus, if a house be worth £1,000, and is insured for £100, if the building is damaged to the amount of £100, the office will pay the whole of that sum; whereas I should say it ought to pay only the tenth part of £100—that is, £10; for the rate of insurance upon a large sum is no less than that upon a small one, and the probability of a house being injured to the amount of £100 is greater than the chance of its being injured to the amount of £200, still greater than the chance of its sustaining an injury to the amount of £300, and so on.

“It was reasoning in this manner that induced me to insure for so small a sum; but I forgot that our risk was greater than that of our neighbours, in consequence of so many persons residing under the same roof. For this reason, and because we should not be equally well able to bear a second loss, we have now insured to a much greater amount; but I am not sure that we were not right before, and are mistaken now, because the circumstance of our having been unfortunate is no proof of error, any more than the gaining a prize in the lottery is a proof of the propriety of purchasing a ticket.

“Some people have very strange ideas about insurance from fire. They appear to think that it actually prevents a fire taking place. Birmingham furnishes a remarkable instance of an error of this kind. The workhouse, which is the property of the whole town, is insured in the Birmingham Fire Office, which is supported by a comparatively small number of individuals. I wonder whether the company insures its own office? Perhaps it does in another—or perhaps in its own!”

He fails, as it seems to me, to take into account that freedom from daily anxiety which a man buys who insures his property to its full value, or something not much short of it. His eldest brother told me that, at one time of his life, he himself was so much troubled by the thought that if he died early he should leave his young wife and children but ill provided for that hishealth became affected, and his power of work was lessened. His dread of poverty was, therefore, tending to keep him poor. He insured his life heavily, and at once regained his cheerfulness. He had paid, he added, in his long life far more in premiums than his children would ever receive back on his death. This outlay, nevertheless, he looked upon as a real money gain to him. It had given him freedom from care, and this freedom had greatly helped to increase his earnings.

In the summer of 1821, Rowland Hill and his next brother, Arthur, crossed over to Ireland, to inspect the Edgeworth-Town Assisting School. This curious institution had been lately founded by Lovell Edgeworth, the brother of Maria Edgeworth. On their way the travellers passed through Manchester. There for the first time they saw a whole town lighted by gas. Between Liverpool and Dublin steamboats ran during the summer months. None ventured as yet to cross the winter seas. The fares were high—a guinea and a-half for the passage. The sailing packets charged but seven shillings; and it was in one of them that the two brothers crossed over. On landing they had to undergo the Custom House examination, as Import Duties were still kept up between the two islands. Two packets arrived almost at the same time, but there was only one officer to examine all the baggage. There were fees to pay; and overcharge was rendered easy by the difference that still subsisted between English and Irish money.

During their stay in Dublin they drove out with an Irish barrister to see the Dargle. “We found,” wrote the younger of the two brothers—

“A line of bushes laid across the road into the grounds, and were told by men working on the spot that we could not pass, the placebeing under preparation for the King’s visit. Had we been alone we should have either turned back or tried the power of a bribe; but our Irish friend knew better; and after one or two cajoling phrases, which moved not very much, proceeded to ‘damn the King!’ The effect was complete, a gap being at once made, through which we passed, while one of the men remarked that others had applied, speaking of the King in high terms, but all those had been turned back.”

“A line of bushes laid across the road into the grounds, and were told by men working on the spot that we could not pass, the placebeing under preparation for the King’s visit. Had we been alone we should have either turned back or tried the power of a bribe; but our Irish friend knew better; and after one or two cajoling phrases, which moved not very much, proceeded to ‘damn the King!’ The effect was complete, a gap being at once made, through which we passed, while one of the men remarked that others had applied, speaking of the King in high terms, but all those had been turned back.”

One evening they saw the general departure of the mails for the provinces. They expected, as a matter of course, to find the guard of each coach armed, as in England, with a blunderbuss; but they found that he carried, in addition, a sword and pistols, while some of the coaches had two guards, and others even three. They left Dublin for Edgeworth-Town on a Sunday morning. For the first time in their life they heard bells rung from churches that did not belong to the Establishment.

Rowland Hill’s Journal contains an interesting account of this tour:—

“On the road to Edgeworth-Town we were struck with the miserable state of the poor Irish. Many live in huts without either window or chimney, the door serving every purpose of ingression and of egression. The poor women and children were generally without shoes and stockings; the men, however, almost always wear both, and even in the midst of summer appear dressed in great coats. Though Sunday, we saw many parties dancing in the roads and fields, the men in their great coats, and carts and wagons passed along apparently as much as on any other day. Every time the coach stopped it was surrounded by beggars, apparently in the lowest possible state of misery.“With a few exceptions, everything appears to be neglected. The land is miserably cultivated, and worse fenced, and the houses seem falling into ruin. You see gates with one hinge, and no fastening, tied up by means of ropes or haybands; windows reduced from a proper size to a single pane of glass, the remainder of the window, as it was broken, having been stopped up with a flat stone, a piece of wood, plaster, or a turf. In many places half the housesare in a state of ruin, and quite uninhabited. We learned that many had been reduced to this state at the time of the riots.”

“On the road to Edgeworth-Town we were struck with the miserable state of the poor Irish. Many live in huts without either window or chimney, the door serving every purpose of ingression and of egression. The poor women and children were generally without shoes and stockings; the men, however, almost always wear both, and even in the midst of summer appear dressed in great coats. Though Sunday, we saw many parties dancing in the roads and fields, the men in their great coats, and carts and wagons passed along apparently as much as on any other day. Every time the coach stopped it was surrounded by beggars, apparently in the lowest possible state of misery.

“With a few exceptions, everything appears to be neglected. The land is miserably cultivated, and worse fenced, and the houses seem falling into ruin. You see gates with one hinge, and no fastening, tied up by means of ropes or haybands; windows reduced from a proper size to a single pane of glass, the remainder of the window, as it was broken, having been stopped up with a flat stone, a piece of wood, plaster, or a turf. In many places half the housesare in a state of ruin, and quite uninhabited. We learned that many had been reduced to this state at the time of the riots.”

At Edgeworth-Town they lodged in the best inn of which the place could boast. Nevertheless under the bed they found put away a store of old shoes:—

“After breakfast we went with Mr. Edgeworth to see his school. It consists of about 160 boys, of all classes, from the sons of beggars to the children of some of the most wealthy men in the neighbourhood. They are classed without any distinction but that of merit, and to destroy every difference in appearance, all the boys wore pinafores as a kind of uniform. Out of school, however, some distinction is made. The sons of gentlemen and respectable tradesmen have a separate playground, and the boarders are divided among two or three houses, according to their rank in society.“About three-fourths of the boys had neither shoes nor stockings, but they all appeared clean, happy, and contented.“The plan of the school in some measure resembles the Lancasterian, only that Mr. Edgeworth accomplishes much more than I have ever seen done in a Lancasterian school. Every boy pays a little for his education—viz., from 1d.to 5d.per week, according to his circumstances. Mr. Edgeworth has a nursery of four or five acres, in which the poor boys are allowed to work, in order to enable them to pay for their education, for the washing of their pinafores, &c. There are two masters with salaries, one of whom has the general superintendence of the school in Mr. Edgeworth’s absence, the other teaches the classics. The weekly payments of the boys defray every expense of the establishment, except the rent, within about a hundred a year. The boarders pay the masters of the houses at which they lodge for all expenses attending their maintenance.”

“After breakfast we went with Mr. Edgeworth to see his school. It consists of about 160 boys, of all classes, from the sons of beggars to the children of some of the most wealthy men in the neighbourhood. They are classed without any distinction but that of merit, and to destroy every difference in appearance, all the boys wore pinafores as a kind of uniform. Out of school, however, some distinction is made. The sons of gentlemen and respectable tradesmen have a separate playground, and the boarders are divided among two or three houses, according to their rank in society.

“About three-fourths of the boys had neither shoes nor stockings, but they all appeared clean, happy, and contented.

“The plan of the school in some measure resembles the Lancasterian, only that Mr. Edgeworth accomplishes much more than I have ever seen done in a Lancasterian school. Every boy pays a little for his education—viz., from 1d.to 5d.per week, according to his circumstances. Mr. Edgeworth has a nursery of four or five acres, in which the poor boys are allowed to work, in order to enable them to pay for their education, for the washing of their pinafores, &c. There are two masters with salaries, one of whom has the general superintendence of the school in Mr. Edgeworth’s absence, the other teaches the classics. The weekly payments of the boys defray every expense of the establishment, except the rent, within about a hundred a year. The boarders pay the masters of the houses at which they lodge for all expenses attending their maintenance.”

So eager were some of the boys to earn money by working over-time, that Mr. Edgeworth was forced to limit the hours of this kind of labour. A penalty was fixed for any one who should venture to begin work before the appointed time. Shortly before the arrival of the two visitors, a boy had been found on a summer morning hard at work as early as two o’clock. He was saving up money to buy his mother a garment ofwhich she stood greatly in need. Not only was the breach of rule forgiven, but high honour was done to the young offender. “The mode taken was characteristic alike of man and country. When the required sum was made up, and the garment purchased, this being hung from the top of a pole, was borne in triumph through the single street of the town, all the boys marching in procession, with their landlord at their head.”

“The boys, as far as we could ascertain in the course of a week’s close inspection, are exceedingly orderly, attentive, and well behaved. Mr. Edgeworth states that he finds the children of the peasantry much more docile than those of gentlemen, and the English more tractable than the Irish.“The hay-harvest was now about, and the boys spent considerable part of the day in the park making the hay. They worked in classes, under the direction of monitors, and proceeded with the utmost order and regularity; they very soon turned the grass of several acres.“Mr. Edgeworth spends a good deal of time in joking with his boys. We saw him act before them the drunken, idle, low, but shrewd Irishman, and many other characters for the instruction and entertainment of his boys. They laugh with him, and, for the time, master and scholars appear to be on the most familiar terms.“On Wednesday we dined at Mr. Edgeworth’s house: there is something highly fascinating in the company of celebrated people. In conversing with Miss Edgeworth, I felt that I was renewing, as it were, an old acquaintance; for who is there to whom she is altogether unknown? I must acknowledge, however, that my introduction to her was not made without some trepidation on my part, but so kind, so unassuming is her manner, that in a very short time I felt almost entirely at my ease in her company. I could not, however, quite rid myself of the feeling that I was in the company of one who had shown by her works that she could detect, and that she noticed every little symptom of weakness which to a common eye might pass unobserved. I was uneasy lest she should discover the defects in my education before I could take an opportunity of alluding to them, as is my custom in similar cases. Miss Edgeworth is a short, sprightly woman, without any of the affectation of politeness,but with much that is real. One is apt to suppose that a person of celebrity must always appear as though a high character was to be supported; there is nothing of this kind about Miss Edgeworth; she is exceedingly lively, and even playful in her manner, and seems to have not the slightest objection to a good joke.”

“The boys, as far as we could ascertain in the course of a week’s close inspection, are exceedingly orderly, attentive, and well behaved. Mr. Edgeworth states that he finds the children of the peasantry much more docile than those of gentlemen, and the English more tractable than the Irish.

“The hay-harvest was now about, and the boys spent considerable part of the day in the park making the hay. They worked in classes, under the direction of monitors, and proceeded with the utmost order and regularity; they very soon turned the grass of several acres.

“Mr. Edgeworth spends a good deal of time in joking with his boys. We saw him act before them the drunken, idle, low, but shrewd Irishman, and many other characters for the instruction and entertainment of his boys. They laugh with him, and, for the time, master and scholars appear to be on the most familiar terms.

“On Wednesday we dined at Mr. Edgeworth’s house: there is something highly fascinating in the company of celebrated people. In conversing with Miss Edgeworth, I felt that I was renewing, as it were, an old acquaintance; for who is there to whom she is altogether unknown? I must acknowledge, however, that my introduction to her was not made without some trepidation on my part, but so kind, so unassuming is her manner, that in a very short time I felt almost entirely at my ease in her company. I could not, however, quite rid myself of the feeling that I was in the company of one who had shown by her works that she could detect, and that she noticed every little symptom of weakness which to a common eye might pass unobserved. I was uneasy lest she should discover the defects in my education before I could take an opportunity of alluding to them, as is my custom in similar cases. Miss Edgeworth is a short, sprightly woman, without any of the affectation of politeness,but with much that is real. One is apt to suppose that a person of celebrity must always appear as though a high character was to be supported; there is nothing of this kind about Miss Edgeworth; she is exceedingly lively, and even playful in her manner, and seems to have not the slightest objection to a good joke.”

“I still esteem it,” writes the surviving brother, “one of the greatest honours of my life to have sat next to her at dinner by her own desire. To me, and doubtless to my brother Rowland also, the interview with this admirable woman savoured of romance. As an abstraction, she had long been to every member of our family an object of respect amounting to reverence. Her works had been to us a source of delight, of instruction, of purity, and of elevation, but herself seemed indefinitely removed, and we could hardly believe that we were now actually in her presence, and admitted to friendly intercourse.”

“On Saturday I gave Mr. Edgeworth some parts of the rough draft of ‘Public Education’ to read, which I had taken with me to Ireland. He desired one of his monitors to take it to his house, and leave it in his bedchamber, stating that he always lay in bed till the middle of the day on Sunday, and that he could read it before he arose in the morning.“On Sunday morning, after our return from church, Mr. Edgeworth sent to request our attendance at his school. We found the boys all drawn up in divisions, and several gentlemen from the neighbourhood were present. We joined Mr. Edgeworth, who stood on a kind of stage formed by the stairs. He began a speech to his boys on the subject of the papers which I had lent him to read, in which he spoke in the most extravagant terms of what he had read. He was sure that we had carried the science of education to a perfection never before aimed at; he considered himself highly flattered by our visit to his school, but felt ashamed that we had not been better repaid for our trouble. He hoped we would allow him to return the visit, as he was sure nothing would delight him so much as a complete knowledge of our plans.“After he had concluded, he requested that I would honestlystate my opinions respecting his school, and he insisted on my finding fault with something or other. I now felt the convenience of having been practised at extemporaneous speaking: for called upon as I was to address a great number of individuals, without any previous notice or opportunity of arranging and collecting my thoughts, and immediately after Mr. Edgeworth had spoken in the highest terms of a work which, till I afterwards undeceived him, he considered as entirely my own production, and for which he lauded my powers in an extravagant degree, I should not have been able to utter a single connected sentence, had not former practice rendered that easy which, without practice, is to some altogether impossible.“In the evening we dined at Mr. Edgeworth’s. On entering the library we found Miss Edgeworth reading ‘Public Education.’ She spoke of it in less extravagant but not in less pleasing terms than her brother. She had read the greater part, and with the highest delight. Upon her complimenting me as the author, I informed her that I had written but a small part, and that my elder brother was the principal author. She then spoke with less restraint of the merits of the book, and said that it reflected the highest credit on the writer, whoever he might be. That her praise was not the unmeaning stuff of common-place compliment I am sure, for it was not uniform. She objected to some parts, which she advised us to alter. She had made notes with her pencil as she read the book, which she pointed out to us. Most of her suggestions we have adopted; a few which did not meet our views, after mature deliberation we have ventured to disregard. One part of the work contains a compliment to Miss Edgeworth, written, as I could not help telling her for my own credit, before we had any intention of visiting Ireland. It is in speaking of our obligations to her as the author of so many excellent tales for children. The name of her father had been coupled with hers, but was afterwards crossed out from the belief that the tales were almost entirely her own production. This she had noticed, and, with tears in her eyes, requested that his name might be restored, stating that he had materially assisted her in all her productions, and that she wished never to be considered separately from him....“I cannot describe the restless activity of Mr. Edgeworth. This evening he displayed more character than I had before had an opportunity of observing. Let it be remembered that this was Sunday evening.“We did not sit down to dinner till after seven o’clock. So long as the ladies remained in the room Mr. Edgeworth kept some curbon his spirits. He was the complete gentleman, behaving with the greatest respect towards his female relations, and, indeed, towards every one at the table. As soon as the barbarous custom now in vogue had driven the ladies to the drawing-room, Mr. Edgeworth invited us to draw our chairs together. The butler was ordered to bring some bottles of a particular claret, which he told us was better than nectar. A toast was proposed, and we proceeded to the business of the evening, Mr. Edgeworth for some time watching very carefully to see there was no unnecessary display of ‘daylight.’ Between every toast, Mr. E. spoke in the most extravagant terms of our book; and ‘Hazelwood School,’ ‘Mr. Hill and family,’ ‘The author of the book,’ &c., were toasted with all due solemnity. We did not fail to return thanks, and to propose ‘The Edgeworth-Town Assisting School,’ ‘Miss Edgeworth,’ &c.“I must remark that in the morning he had asked me many questions respecting our band, and had expressed to his boys his earnest wish that a band should be formed in his school. Some of the boys, it was stated, could already play a little upon the flute. Mr. Edgeworth desired them to perfect themselves with all possible despatch.“In the midst of our jollification, as we sat with the windows open, we heard two flutes playing a quick tune in the town. Mr. Edgeworth was delighted with this, and immediately sent one of his servants to fetch the players, whoever they might be. The man soon returned with two of the scholars, who had been parading up and down the street without shoes and stockings, and marching to their own music. We immediately adjourned to a kind of conservatory, into which the dining-room opened, where, after giving us another tune, the boys joined us in drinking ‘Success to the band.’ ... Delighted with every one, and with himself in particular, Mr. Edgeworth got into the most playful humour. Sometimes, after a toast, he directed we should join hands all round, then cross them, &c.... At about midnight, he proposed that we should go to the school-house, and see how things went on there. He opened a back door, which let us at once into the street. The key of this door he always kept about him, as he said, that he might go out and inspect the state of the town at any hour of the night without disturbing his family. This he frequently does, going into people’s houses in disguise,—in imitation, I suppose, of the hero of the Arabian tales. The butler was sent forward to call up O’Brien, the classical teacher of the school, and Steele, one of the head monitors. He was cautioned, at the same time, not to forget the good thingswhich were under his care.... Steele, who, though a young man of genteel appearance, is the son of a poor bricklayer, sallied forth from a small cottage, and met us in the street. Both he and O’Brien had been in bed. Mr. Edgeworth, like most men who are occasionally very familiar with their inferiors, is very tenacious of his rank and authority. Poor Steele was desired to relate a story—of which the length very far exceeded the interest—about a silver trowel which had been presented by Mr. Edgeworth to Steele’s father, on account of his having had the honour to open the family vault at the time of the death of the late Mr. Edgeworth. The young man, as was natural enough when we consider that he had been called out of a warm bed, and was now standing in the street at midnight, began his relation with his head covered. Mr. Edgeworth immediately ordered him to take off his hat, and even made him put it on the ground.“At the school-house, after carefully satisfying ourselves that all the boys were safely roosted, we proceeded much in the same manner as at Mr. Edgeworth’s house. O’Brien and Steele were asked by him if they knew any good songs, and they accordingly favoured us with some of their best.“Shortly after, Mr. Edgeworth, as though a thought had suddenly struck him, cried out that he should uncommonly like a beefsteak. Most of us agreed that it would be a good thing; but Arthur, who had been rather fidgetty most of the evening, could stand it no longer, and accordingly made good his retreat to the inn. For my own part, I cannot say that I receive the least true pleasure from parties like this; but, as every one must occasionally join in them, I think it best to make oneself as comfortable as possible under all the circumstances, and not to attempt to swim against the stream.“The mistress of the house, who I afterwards learned had been in bed, was now summoned, and questioned as to the possibility of satisfying our wishes. Fortunately she was provided with the means, and at about two o’clock we sat down to a beefsteak supper. After supper, Mr. Edgeworth commenced an oration in praise of his butler’s grandmother, who had been remarkable for many good qualities. The glasses were filled, the butler was furnished with one, and with the utmost solemnity we drank to the memory of the worthy grandmother....“The next day we took our leave of the Edgeworths. Miss Edgeworth had now read the whole of the book. She spoke of its excellences in the same terms as before, but she objected to some parts of our plan. She is afraid that the republicanism of the schoolmay be alarming, and advises that this part should be made less prominent. She says she is afraid that parents will dread the republican spirit which our system must infuse among the boys. I think she has too much good sense to think this an evil in itself—indeed, she spoke of it only as a matter of prudence as regards ourselves. She, perhaps, may be right, but I think that we may venture; because, in the first place, the republican tendency of our plans is very far from obvious, and there are very few Miss Edgeworths to find it out. And again, I think people are now beginning to be a little enlightened on the subject, and that we shall soon be on the popular side of the question, even with that class which it is our interest to please.”

“On Saturday I gave Mr. Edgeworth some parts of the rough draft of ‘Public Education’ to read, which I had taken with me to Ireland. He desired one of his monitors to take it to his house, and leave it in his bedchamber, stating that he always lay in bed till the middle of the day on Sunday, and that he could read it before he arose in the morning.

“On Sunday morning, after our return from church, Mr. Edgeworth sent to request our attendance at his school. We found the boys all drawn up in divisions, and several gentlemen from the neighbourhood were present. We joined Mr. Edgeworth, who stood on a kind of stage formed by the stairs. He began a speech to his boys on the subject of the papers which I had lent him to read, in which he spoke in the most extravagant terms of what he had read. He was sure that we had carried the science of education to a perfection never before aimed at; he considered himself highly flattered by our visit to his school, but felt ashamed that we had not been better repaid for our trouble. He hoped we would allow him to return the visit, as he was sure nothing would delight him so much as a complete knowledge of our plans.

“After he had concluded, he requested that I would honestlystate my opinions respecting his school, and he insisted on my finding fault with something or other. I now felt the convenience of having been practised at extemporaneous speaking: for called upon as I was to address a great number of individuals, without any previous notice or opportunity of arranging and collecting my thoughts, and immediately after Mr. Edgeworth had spoken in the highest terms of a work which, till I afterwards undeceived him, he considered as entirely my own production, and for which he lauded my powers in an extravagant degree, I should not have been able to utter a single connected sentence, had not former practice rendered that easy which, without practice, is to some altogether impossible.

“In the evening we dined at Mr. Edgeworth’s. On entering the library we found Miss Edgeworth reading ‘Public Education.’ She spoke of it in less extravagant but not in less pleasing terms than her brother. She had read the greater part, and with the highest delight. Upon her complimenting me as the author, I informed her that I had written but a small part, and that my elder brother was the principal author. She then spoke with less restraint of the merits of the book, and said that it reflected the highest credit on the writer, whoever he might be. That her praise was not the unmeaning stuff of common-place compliment I am sure, for it was not uniform. She objected to some parts, which she advised us to alter. She had made notes with her pencil as she read the book, which she pointed out to us. Most of her suggestions we have adopted; a few which did not meet our views, after mature deliberation we have ventured to disregard. One part of the work contains a compliment to Miss Edgeworth, written, as I could not help telling her for my own credit, before we had any intention of visiting Ireland. It is in speaking of our obligations to her as the author of so many excellent tales for children. The name of her father had been coupled with hers, but was afterwards crossed out from the belief that the tales were almost entirely her own production. This she had noticed, and, with tears in her eyes, requested that his name might be restored, stating that he had materially assisted her in all her productions, and that she wished never to be considered separately from him....

“I cannot describe the restless activity of Mr. Edgeworth. This evening he displayed more character than I had before had an opportunity of observing. Let it be remembered that this was Sunday evening.

“We did not sit down to dinner till after seven o’clock. So long as the ladies remained in the room Mr. Edgeworth kept some curbon his spirits. He was the complete gentleman, behaving with the greatest respect towards his female relations, and, indeed, towards every one at the table. As soon as the barbarous custom now in vogue had driven the ladies to the drawing-room, Mr. Edgeworth invited us to draw our chairs together. The butler was ordered to bring some bottles of a particular claret, which he told us was better than nectar. A toast was proposed, and we proceeded to the business of the evening, Mr. Edgeworth for some time watching very carefully to see there was no unnecessary display of ‘daylight.’ Between every toast, Mr. E. spoke in the most extravagant terms of our book; and ‘Hazelwood School,’ ‘Mr. Hill and family,’ ‘The author of the book,’ &c., were toasted with all due solemnity. We did not fail to return thanks, and to propose ‘The Edgeworth-Town Assisting School,’ ‘Miss Edgeworth,’ &c.

“I must remark that in the morning he had asked me many questions respecting our band, and had expressed to his boys his earnest wish that a band should be formed in his school. Some of the boys, it was stated, could already play a little upon the flute. Mr. Edgeworth desired them to perfect themselves with all possible despatch.

“In the midst of our jollification, as we sat with the windows open, we heard two flutes playing a quick tune in the town. Mr. Edgeworth was delighted with this, and immediately sent one of his servants to fetch the players, whoever they might be. The man soon returned with two of the scholars, who had been parading up and down the street without shoes and stockings, and marching to their own music. We immediately adjourned to a kind of conservatory, into which the dining-room opened, where, after giving us another tune, the boys joined us in drinking ‘Success to the band.’ ... Delighted with every one, and with himself in particular, Mr. Edgeworth got into the most playful humour. Sometimes, after a toast, he directed we should join hands all round, then cross them, &c.... At about midnight, he proposed that we should go to the school-house, and see how things went on there. He opened a back door, which let us at once into the street. The key of this door he always kept about him, as he said, that he might go out and inspect the state of the town at any hour of the night without disturbing his family. This he frequently does, going into people’s houses in disguise,—in imitation, I suppose, of the hero of the Arabian tales. The butler was sent forward to call up O’Brien, the classical teacher of the school, and Steele, one of the head monitors. He was cautioned, at the same time, not to forget the good thingswhich were under his care.... Steele, who, though a young man of genteel appearance, is the son of a poor bricklayer, sallied forth from a small cottage, and met us in the street. Both he and O’Brien had been in bed. Mr. Edgeworth, like most men who are occasionally very familiar with their inferiors, is very tenacious of his rank and authority. Poor Steele was desired to relate a story—of which the length very far exceeded the interest—about a silver trowel which had been presented by Mr. Edgeworth to Steele’s father, on account of his having had the honour to open the family vault at the time of the death of the late Mr. Edgeworth. The young man, as was natural enough when we consider that he had been called out of a warm bed, and was now standing in the street at midnight, began his relation with his head covered. Mr. Edgeworth immediately ordered him to take off his hat, and even made him put it on the ground.

“At the school-house, after carefully satisfying ourselves that all the boys were safely roosted, we proceeded much in the same manner as at Mr. Edgeworth’s house. O’Brien and Steele were asked by him if they knew any good songs, and they accordingly favoured us with some of their best.

“Shortly after, Mr. Edgeworth, as though a thought had suddenly struck him, cried out that he should uncommonly like a beefsteak. Most of us agreed that it would be a good thing; but Arthur, who had been rather fidgetty most of the evening, could stand it no longer, and accordingly made good his retreat to the inn. For my own part, I cannot say that I receive the least true pleasure from parties like this; but, as every one must occasionally join in them, I think it best to make oneself as comfortable as possible under all the circumstances, and not to attempt to swim against the stream.

“The mistress of the house, who I afterwards learned had been in bed, was now summoned, and questioned as to the possibility of satisfying our wishes. Fortunately she was provided with the means, and at about two o’clock we sat down to a beefsteak supper. After supper, Mr. Edgeworth commenced an oration in praise of his butler’s grandmother, who had been remarkable for many good qualities. The glasses were filled, the butler was furnished with one, and with the utmost solemnity we drank to the memory of the worthy grandmother....

“The next day we took our leave of the Edgeworths. Miss Edgeworth had now read the whole of the book. She spoke of its excellences in the same terms as before, but she objected to some parts of our plan. She is afraid that the republicanism of the schoolmay be alarming, and advises that this part should be made less prominent. She says she is afraid that parents will dread the republican spirit which our system must infuse among the boys. I think she has too much good sense to think this an evil in itself—indeed, she spoke of it only as a matter of prudence as regards ourselves. She, perhaps, may be right, but I think that we may venture; because, in the first place, the republican tendency of our plans is very far from obvious, and there are very few Miss Edgeworths to find it out. And again, I think people are now beginning to be a little enlightened on the subject, and that we shall soon be on the popular side of the question, even with that class which it is our interest to please.”

On their way back to Dublin, the travellers overheard two Irishmen discussing the career of Napoleon, tidings of whose death had lately arrived. One of them maintained that the failure of his Russian campaign was altogether due to a premature setting-in of the monsoons. The other modestly remarked that he had always understood that these winds were known only on the Indian Ocean. “Yes,” replied the first; “but that year they blew atremendiouslong way inland, carrying with them prodigious cold.”

The brothers took the steam-packet from Dublin to Holyhead. “The captain told them that his company intended to attempt running it throughout the next winter; and cautiously remarked that he thought in a storm a steamer might even have some advantages over a sailing-vessel.”

In the summer of the following year (1822), Rowland Hill again visited the Isle of Wight, accompanied by two of his younger brothers:—

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