SIR JOSEPH BANKS, whose name has for so many years stood in the front of British science, was the son of William Banks Hodgenkson, Esq., of Reresby Abbey, in Lincolnshire, a gentleman of considerable property. The estate had been purchased by the grandfather, with the fruit of his labours in a respectable profession. Joseph, the eldest son, thus enjoyed from his earliest years, leisure and the means of study; and these, which, in others, are only the source of idleness and dissipation, were indefatigably employed by him in extending his own and the public knowledge. After a regular course of education at Eton and Oxford, he was left at full liberty to choose his own line of pursuit. The circumstances of the times, were such as strongly to decide him towards a particular branch of science. Amid the splendour which mechanics and astronomy had derived from the discoveries of the Newtonian school, natural history in England, and even over Europe, had sunk below its natural level. The attractions, how ever, of this interesting branch of knowledge were now beginning to be

felt. The new and scientific form given to it by the creative mind of Linnæus, the exertions made by his disciples in every quarter of the globe, the splendour thrown around it by the eloquence of Buffon, gave to natural history, a pre-eminence in the eye of the public over every other pursuit. The young student, emerging at this moment into intellectual existence, could not resist a science recommended by so many attractions; he devoted himself to the study of it, and particularly to botany. In its pursuit he braved hardships, which few of those who have support and fortune to earn, are willing to encounter. He pursued it over mountain, waste, forest, and thicket. His zeal gave rise on one occasion to a ludicrous accident. An alarm of robbery being given, and the officers of justice being in full pursuit, they found our young botanist buried in a mass of rank vegetation, as if for the express purpose of concealment. They concluded it not doubtful that this must be the culprit, and dragged him before the nearest justice of peace. On examining the spoils, however,

they were found to consist, not of money, plate, or jewels, but of various species of plants and wild flowers. On the rank and character of the supposed thief being explained, every apology was, of course, tendered.

Mr Banks succeeded to his father at the age of eighteen, and went to reside at his native seat. Being fond of the amusement of fishing, he was accustomed to pursue it on the broad surface of Whittlesea-mere, situated in the neighbourhood. This light circumstance led to an important connexion, for he here met the late Lord Sandwich in eager pursuit of the same amusement. Afterwards, when engaged in London, they were accustomed to pursue it, sometimes for whole nights, in fishing on the Thames. Lord Sandwich becoming subsequently first Lord of the Admiralty, the intercourse thus formed proved highly beneficial, by securing his cordial co-operation in every project formed for the advancement of science.

Mr Banks's zeal now led him to prosecute knowledge beyond the limits of Europe. In 1763, he under took a voyage beyond the Atlantic, and surveyed the dreary shores of Newfoundland and Labrador. But a bolder and grander scene of discovery now opened. Under the impulse of that zeal for discovery which animated his late Majesty, an expedition was fitted out to perform, under Lieutenant Cook, the circumnavigation of the globe. This was then a very different undertaking from what, chiefly by Cook's exertions, it has since been rendered. The navigators before him had scarcely stripped it of any of its terrors. The very idea still presented to the mind nothing but unknown and dangerous seas, coasts beset by sa vages, the mortal and almost inevitable ravages of one of the most frightful diseases. That one, who possessed

so fully the means of reclining at home in the lap of ease and luxury, should have braved such a voyage, is perhaps one of the most signal examples of devotion to science, that has ever been given.

Although the expedition, by the skill and enterprize of Cook, was safely steered through the usual perils which beset such an enterprize, the enthusiastic enterprize of Mr Banks, involved him in others that were not foreseen. In sailing along the frightful and inhospitable coast of Terra del Fuego, he was tempted by the view of a mountain covered with a rich variety of plants. A party being formed, he and Dr Solander set out, but found the route more tedious and difficult than they had expected. They reached the mountain, however, and were amply gratified; but, on their return, though it was midsummer day in this dreary climate, a storm of snow came on, accompanied with a cold so excessive, as gave rise to the most serious danger of perishing. Dr Solander's experience enabled him to warn them, that their only hope was to keep awake and moving, and that, if they yielded to the propensity to sleep, which inevitably arises in such circumstances, their fate was certain. Dr Solander was the first to verify his own warning, being overcome with sleep to such a degree, that Mr Banks's utmost exertions were necessary to make him proceed, and thus save his life. During the residence at Otaheite, Mr Banks's figure and manners made him a favourite with the principal people in the island, particularly the ladies. He omitted no opportunity of advancing knowledge, and made important discoveries, even in seas and coasts that had before been repeatedly traversed.

Mr Banks, not satisfied with this adventurous voyage, undertook soon after another to Iceland, which, by the

striking peculiarities of its physical structure, presents an object so interesting to the man of science. On his way, he visited the western and northern islands of Scotland, a region then almost strange to the tourist. He discovered and observed the celebrated cave of Staffa, which, unless by a slight, and scarcely credited notice of Buchanan, had remained hitherto undescribed. On reaching Iceland, the party saw, with astonishment, its craggy cliffs vitrified by fire, and its lofty mountain rocks covered with eternal snow. They flattered themselves with having been the first who ever reached the summit of Hecla, the natives being deterred by superstitious fears from attempting such an achievement. They would willingly have stood a little singeing for the satisfaction of seeing the flames vomited from its crater; but the volcano was then quiescent. A narrative of the voyage was published in 1780, by Dr Von Troil.

Mr Banks now established himself at home, and spent his time between the metropolis and his seat in Lincolnshire. His ample fortune continued devoted to the same objects, in promoting which his life had been employed. He founded a noble library, and rendered his house the rendezvous of learned men. He now became a constant attendant on the meetings of the Royal Society, and presented to that body many valuable communications on the subject of natural history, which, from that and other circumstances, began to take the lead among the objects of its attention. The consequence was, that, when Sir John Pringle, the President, determined, in 1777, to retire to Scotland, Mr Banks was chosen to fill the vacant chair. At the same time, the King, in testimony of particular favour, conferred on him the honour of knighthood, and elected him a member of the Privy Council.

This shower of honours gave no little umbrage to that class of members, including several of very high attainments, in whose eyes mathematics, and natural philosophy, formed alone the appropriate objects of the Royal Society. The lead among them was taken by Horsley, afterwards Bishop of St Asaph, who made no secret of his indignation at the elevation of Sir Joseph to the Presidency. He declared "that science herself, had never been more signally insulted, than by the elevation of a mere amateur to occupy the chair once filled by Newton." These grudges soon broke out into open hostility, in consequence of some measures proposed in the Society, and upon which the parties differed. On this occasion, Horsley made a memorable attack, in which he said," We shall have one remedy in our power, if all others fail; for we can at least secede, sir; when the hour of secession comes, the President will be left with his train of feeble amateurs, and this toy upon the table, (pointing to the mace,) the ghost of that Society where science once reigned, and Newton presided as her minister."

Notwithstanding these dissensions, the public soon acknowledged and appreciated the merits of Sir Joseph in his character of President. By opening his house not only to the members, but to every person of distinction, both native and foreign, he rendered it, as it were, the seat and centre of science. His connexions with government enabled him to procure the most powerful patronage to any undertaking, which promised to extend the boundaries of human knowledge. He was one of the most active in planning and forwarding the scheme of the African Association. At the same time, the connexions maintained by him with literati and scientific societies of France, even amid periods of the most inveterate national animosity,

afforded means of protection to many distinguished individuals, and presented an honourable exception to the fury of the hostility between the two countries. In 1802, being named a member of the French Institute, he appears to have felt very peculiar gratification at this honour, and wrote a letter, in which his feelings are somewhat too strongly expressed. He termed it "the highest literary distinction which he could possibly attain," and named the Institute "the first Literary Society in the world.” His old enemy, Bishop Horsley, took this occasion of privately circulating a letter, in which he branded these expressions" as a compound of servility, disloyalty, and falsehood; sentiments which ought never to be conceived by an English heart, never written by an English hand, and least of all by yours, distinguished as you are by repeated (out of respect to his Majesty, I will not say unmerited) marks of royal favour, and elevated to a station, in which the country might be excused for looking up to you as the jealous guardian, not the betrayer, of her literary credit." Referring to the Royal Society, he insisted that the cultivation of science was more indebted to its exertions, than to those of any other institution whatsoever. "But I am yet to learn,” said he, "the merits of this novel association of revolutionary philosophers, into which you have been enlisted. What acts, but acts of robbery, have we seen of theirs? Where are the proofs of their preeminence?" In the dogmatic style of the time, he arraigned Sir Joseph's professions of that esteem, which, in the most disastrous periods, he had always preserved for the French nation, and some compliments which he paid to the existing government of France.

Sir Joseph Banks bestowed particular attention on agriculture, and actively assisted in the drainage of the

fens of Lincolnshire, which operation nearly doubled the value of his estate. His attention to the introduction of the Merino breed of sheep, was so great, that the King confided his flocks to Sir Joseph's care. The Board of Agriculture, and the Horticultural Society, were indebted in various shapes to his aids and communications.

Sir Joseph enjoyed sound health to an advanced age; but he then became liable to attacks of the gout, and finally proved a complete martyr to that disease. Large dozes of ginger, and the celebrated Eau Medicinale were successively resorted to; but, while they relieved the paroxysms, they probably weakened his constitution still more. Yet, in the most exhausted state of his frame, his mind remained unimpaired. By the author of this memoir, he was seen, for the first and only time, in bed, and unable to move; yet displaying still an unabated interest in all those objects, which it had been the ambition of his life to promote. Worn out at length with age and illness, he expired on the 9th of May, 1820, in the 81st year of his age.

Sir Joseph possessed a manly form; his countenance was energetic and intelligent, and often beamed with pecu. liar kindness and courtesy. His will bore strongly the stamp of his love of science. To Robert Brown, Esq. his librarian, a gentleman pre-eminently distinguished for botanical knowledge, he bequeathed 2001. a-year, with his library, herbarium, and every kind of scientific apparatus, to be used during his life, and to go at his death to the British Museum. To Mr Frederick Bauer, of Kew Green, whom he had employed for thirty years as a botanical draughtsman, he left an annuity of 300l., provided he continued to employ himself in the same manner, and in the same place. To his Majesty, he bequeathed all the drawings and sketches made under his direction by Mr Bauer.

In the same year, Britain sustained the loss of another individual, who stood equally at the head of his own department-BENJAMIN WEST, President of the Royal Academy of Painting. The rise of this great artist was attended with some very peculiar circumstances.

Benjamin West, born on the 10th October, 1738, was the son of John West, a quaker, residing at Springfield, a village in the interior of Pennsylvania. His father might be considered as illustrious in the annals of philanthropy, if, as Mr Galt seems to intimate, his example and exhortation had the chief influence in producing the noble decree of the Pennsylvanian legislature, for a general emancipation of the negro slaves.

It was scarcely possible, that any human being could be less favourably situated for the culture of any of the arts which embellish human life, than young Benjamin.. The sect to which he belonged, noted for so many estimable moral qualities, had adopted in excess the austere creed, which condemns as ungodly and perilous, every art which aims only at amusement and ornament. He was therefore bred up under the impossibility of seeing a single specimen of the imitative arts. Only the most irresistible strength of natural genius could have enabled him to break through such a host of discouraging circumstances.

It was at the age of six, that the dis position of the young painter first displayed itself. Being left to rock the cradle of an infant sister, he saw her smile in her sleep, and was so struck with the beauty of her countenance at that moment, that he snatched up a pen, and attempted to delineate it. His mother entering, shame led him to conceal what he had been doing; but she, perceiving his confusion, insisted to see it, and, viewing the drawing with evident pleasure, exclaimed, "I declare he

VOL. XIV. PART I.

has made a likeness of little Sally." Maternal sanction being thus given to the art, the boy was allowed full li berty to pursue it in the intervals of his school, and to delineate with the pen every object which struck his eye. A party of Indians who happened to visit Springfield, taught him to prepare the red and yellow, with which they painted their ornaments; and, his mother having presented him with a piece of indigo, he was thus in possession of the three primary colours. A painter, as Mr Galt justly observes, who would embody the metaphor of an artist, instructed by nature, could scarcely imagine anything more picturesque than this real incident of the Indians instructing West to prepare the prismatic colours. About this time, he heard the description of camels' hair pencils, and instantly saw how superior these must be to the rude machinery of a pen. The world, however, with which he was acquainted, presented no such object. The only substitute he could contrive, was obtained by the following expedient. He cast his eye on a favourite black cat of his father's, and, having privily obtained the use of his mother's scissars, employed them in cutting off the bushy extremity of the tail. As this lasted only for a short time, he was reduced to the necessity of making large inroads on the back of Grimalkin. The worthy man inwardly mourned this naked and altered appearance of his favourite, and could only ascribe it to some serious malady; till the youth, on hearing these lamentations repeated, blushingly confessed the wrong he had done. He obtained an easy forgiveness from the surprised and gratified parent.

West was eight years old, when Mr Pennington, a merchant of Philadelphia, came to visit his father, and, struck with the drawings of birds and flowers which hung round the room, inquired about the boy, and promised.

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