We pass by several authors and observers who contributed during the
time of Hüygens and Halley, to the advancement of astronomy, to notice
the life of an individual whose career, while beneficial to the
science under review, furnishes an ever-memorable instance of the
acquirement of knowledge under the most pressing difficulties and
obstructions. The most of those to whom we have adverted were men in
independent circumstances, or at least so situated as to obtain at
once a liberal education and the patronage and support of the great
and wealthy. James Ferguson, the ingenious experimental philosopher,
mechanist, and astronomer, to whom we allude, had no such advantages.
He was born in 1710, a few miles from Keith, a village in Banffshire,
in the north of Scotland. His parents were of the poorest order, but
honest and religious, and, by toilsome labor in the cultivation of a
few rented acres, contrived to rear to manhood a large family of
children. Of the manner in which James acquired the rudiments of
education, and how he struggled to rise from obscurity to distinction,
we have a most interesting account in a memoir by himself, which we
cannot do better than quote in an abridged form.
After mentioning how he learned to read with a very scanty aid from an
old woman and his father, and that little more than three months’
tuition at the grammar school of Keith was all the education he ever
received, he thus proceeds:――‘My taste for mechanics was soon
developed; but as my father could not afford to maintain me while I
was in pursuit only of these matters, and as I was rather too young
and weak for hard labor, he put me out to a neighbor to keep sheep,
which I continued to do for some years; and in that time I began to
study the stars in the night. In the daytime I amused myself by making
models of mills, spinning-wheels, and such other things as I happened
to see. I then went to serve a considerable farmer in the
neighborhood, whose name was James Glashan. I found him very kind and
indulgent; but he soon observed, that in the evenings, when my work
was over, I went into a field with a blanket about me, lay down on my
back, and stretched a thread with small beads upon it, at arms-length,
between my eye and the stars, sliding the beads upon it till they hid
such and such stars from my eye, in order to take their apparent
distances from one another; and then, laying the thread down on a
paper, I marked the stars thereon by the beads, according to their
respective positions, having a candle by me. My master at first
laughed at me; but when I explained my meaning to him, he encouraged
me to go on; and, that I might make fair copies in the daytime of what
I had done in the night he often worked for me himself. I shall always
have respect for the memory of that man.
‘I soon after was introduced by a schoolmaster whom I knew to a Mr.
Cantley, an ingenious man, who acted as butler to Thomas Grant, Esq.,
of Achoynaney, and from whom I received some instruction, particularly
in decimal arithmetic, algebra, and the first elements of geometry. He
also made me a present of ‘Gordon’s Geographical Grammar,’ which at
that time was to me a great treasure. There is no figure of a globe in
it, although it contains a tolerable description of the globes, and
their use. From this description I made a globe in three weeks at my
father’s, having turned the ball thereof out of a piece of wood, which
ball I covered with paper, and delineated a map of the world upon it,
made the meridian ring and horizon of wood, covered them with paper,
and graduated them: and I was happy to find that by my globe, which
was the first I ever saw, I could solve the problems. But this was not
likely to afford me bread; and I could not think of staying with my
father, who, I knew full well, could not maintain me in that way, as
it could be of no service to him; and he had, without my assistance,
hands sufficient for all his work.’
Thinking it would be a very easy matter to attend a mill, and that he
would have plenty of leisure for study, poor Ferguson next engaged
himself to a miller; but the fellow turned out to be a harsh, ignorant
drunkard, who required every moment of the boy’s time, starving and
ill-using him besides, so that at the end of a year he had to betake
himself to the roof of his father. He next hired himself to a farmer;
but here, again, he was worked beyond the strength of his naturally
delicate constitution: illness ensued, and he had again to seek the
paternal refuge. ‘In order to amuse myself in this low state, I made a
wooden clock, the frame of which was also of wood; and it kept time
pretty well. The bell on which the hammer struck the hours was the
neck of a broken bottle. Having then no idea how any timekeeper could
go but by a weight and a line, I wondered how a watch could go in all
positions, and was sorry that I had never thought of asking Mr.
Cantley, who could very easily have informed me. But happening one day
to see a gentleman ride by my father’s house, which was close by a
public road, I asked him what o’clock it then was; he looked at his
watch, and told me. As he did that with so much good-nature, I begged
of him to show me the inside of his watch; and though he was an entire
stranger, he immediately opened the watch, and put it into my hands. I
saw the spring-box with part of the chain round it, and asked him what
it was that made the box turn round; he told me that it was turned
round by a steel spring within it. Having then never seen any other
spring than that of my father’s gun-lock, I asked how a spring within
a box could turn the box so often round as to wind all the chain upon
it. He answered that the spring was long and thin, that one end of it
was fastened to the axis of the box, and the other end to the inside
of the box; that the axis was fixed, and the box was loose upon it. I
told him I did not yet thoroughly understand the matter. ‘Well my
lad,’ says he, ‘take a long thin piece of whalebone, hold one end of
it fast between your finger and thumb, and wind it round your finger,
it will then endeavor to unwind itself; and if you fix the other end
of it to the inside of a small hoop, and leave it to itself, it will
turn the hoop round and round, and wind up a thread tied to the
outside of the hoop.’ I thanked the gentleman, and told him I
understood the thing very well. I then tried to make a watch with
wooden wheels, and made the spring of whalebone; but found that I
could not make the watch go when the balance was put on, because the
teeth of the wheels were rather too weak to bear the force of a spring
sufficient to move the balance, although the wheels would run fast
enough when the balance was taken off. I enclosed the whole in a
wooden case very little bigger than a breakfast teacup; but a clumsy
neighbor one day looking at my watch, happened to let it fall, and
turning hastily about to pick it up, set his foot upon it, and crushed
it all to pieces; which so provoked my father, that he was almost
ready to beat the man, and discouraged me so much, that I never
attempted to make such another machine again, especially as I was
thoroughly convinced I could never make one that would be of any real
use.’
He now turned his attention to the repairing and cleaning of clocks,
and in this way managed for some time to make a livelihood. While
traveling the country for this purpose, he happened to attract the
notice of Sir James Dunbar of Durn, who bestowed upon him the warmest
patronage, and requested him to make his mansion his home. While
there, geometry, mechanics, and astronomy, alternately engaged him.
‘Two large globular stones stood on the top of his gate; on one of
them I painted with oil colors a map of the terrestrial globe, and on
the other a map of the celestial, from a planisphere of the stars
which I copied on paper from a celestial globe belonging to a
neighboring gentleman. The poles of the painted globe stood toward the
poles of the heavens; on each the twenty-four hours were placed around
the equinoctial, so as to show the time of the day when the sun shone
out, by the boundary where the half of the globe at any time
enlightened by the sun was parted from the other half in the shade;
the enlightened parts of the terrestrial globe answering to the like
enlightened parts of the earth at all times; so that, whenever the sun
shone on the globe, one might see to what places the sun was then
rising, to what places it was setting, and all the places where it was
then day or night throughout the earth.’
While enjoying the hospitality of Durn, he was introduced to Lady
Dipple, Sir James’ sister, who also extended to him the warmest
patronage. This lady, seeing his taste for design, employed him in
drawing patterns for needlework on gowns, aprons, etc., recommending
his work to her acquaintances, and in a short while created, as it
were, a flourishing domestic trade for the young philosopher. On
removing to Edinburgh, she advised Furguson to accompany her
household, in which he would have the benefit of another year’s
hospitality, assured that, in the more extensive field of the
metropolis, he would have a much better opportunity of rising into
notice. Thither he accordingly went; was introduced into new families
of distinction; drew and designed for fancy needlework; and latterly
turned his attention to miniature painting, in which he so far
excelled, that for six-and-twenty after, it was the business to which
he trusted for a maintenance. But while engaged in painting, and
enjoying the estimation of those who had been his patrons, ‘I somehow
or other took a violent inclination to study anatomy, surgery, and
physic, all from reading of books and conversing with gentlemen on
these subjects, which for that time put all thoughts of astronomy out
of my mind; and I had no inclination to become acquainted with any one
there who taught either mathematics or astronomy, for nothing would
serve me but to be a doctor.
‘At the end of the second year I left Edinburgh, and went to see my
father, thinking myself tolerably well qualified to be a physician in
that part of the country, and I carried a good deal of medicines,
plasters, etc., thither; but to my mortification, I soon found that
all my medical theories and study were of little use in practice. And
then finding that very few paid me for the medicines they had, and
that I was far from being so successful as I could wish, I quite left
off that business, and began to think of taking to the more sure one
of drawing pictures again. For this purpose I went to Iverness, where
I had eight months’ business. When I was there, I began to think of
astronomy again, and was heartily sorry for having quite neglected it
at Edinburgh, where I might have improved my knowledge by conversing
with those who were very able to assist me.’
Having spent some time in astronomical pursuits at Inverness, Furguson
returned to Edinburgh, where he made himself known to Mr. Maclaurin,
professor of mathematics, by whom he was kindly patronized, and
instructed in points wherein he was deficient. Being greatly delighted
with the orrery of the professor, he set about constructing one after
a somewhat different principle, and succeeded so well in the
undertaking that his patron not only commended it to the young men
attending his class, but desired the constructor to read them a
lecture on it. This so far encouraged the young philosopher, that he
instantly set about the construction of another more complex, and of
higher finish. This was purchased by Sir Dudley Rider when Ferguson
first went to London; and he mentions in his memoir, that altogether
eight orreries were constructed chiefly by his own hand, and that in
no two of them was the wheelwork alike. We now follow him to London,
whither he went in May 1743.
‘I had a letter of recommendation from Mr. Baron Eldin at Edinburgh to
the Right Hon. Stephen Poyntz, Esq., at St. James’, who had been
preceptor to his Royal Highness the late Duke of Cumberland, and was
well known to be possessed of all the good qualities that can adorn a
human mind. To me his goodness was really beyond my power of
expression; and I had not been a month in London, till he informed me
that he had written to an eminent professor of mathematics to take me
into his house, and give me board and lodging, with all proper
instructions to qualify me for teaching a mathematical school he (Mr.
Poyntz) had in view for me, and would get me settled in it. This I
should have liked very well, especially as I began to be tired of
drawing pictures; in which, I confess, I never strove to excel,
because my mind was still pursuing things more agreeable. He soon
after told me he had just received an answer from the mathematical
master, desiring I might be sent immediately to him. On hearing this,
I told Mr. Poyntz that I did not know how to maintain my wife during
the time I must be under the master’s tuition. ‘What!’ says he, ‘are
you a married man?’ I told him I had been so ever since May, in the
year 1739. He said he was sorry for it, because it quite defeated his
scheme, as the master of the school he had in view for me must be a
bachelor.
‘He then asked me what business I intended to follow. I answered that
I knew of none besides that of drawing pictures. On this he desired me
to draw the pictures of his wife and children, that he might show
them, in order to recommend me to others; and told me that when I was
out of business, I should come to him, and he would find me as much as
he could――and I soon found as much as I could execute; but he died in
a few years after, to my inexpressible grief.
‘Soon afterwards it appeared to me, that although the moon goes round
the earth, and that the sun is far on the outside of the moon’s orbit,
yet the moon’s motion must be in a line――that is, always concave
towards the sun; and upon making a delineation representing her
absolute path in the heavens, I found it to be really so. I then made
a simple machine for delineating both her path and the earth’s on a
long paper laid on the floor. I carried the machine and delineation to
the late Martin Felkes, Esq., president of the Royal Society, on a
Thursday afternoon. He expressed great satisfaction at seeing it, as
it was a new discovery; and took me that evening with him to the Royal
Society, where I showed the delineation, and the method of doing it.
‘In the year 1747, I published a dissertation on the phenomena of the
harvest moon, with a description of a new orrery, in which there are
only four wheels. But having never had grammatical education, nor time
to study the rules of just composition, I acknowledge that I was
afraid to put it to press; and for the same cause, I ought to have the
same fears still. But having the pleasure to find that this my first
work was not ill received, I was emboldened to go on in publishing my
‘Astronomy,’ ‘Mechanical Lectures,’ ‘Tables and Tracts relative to
several Arts and Sciences,’ a small treatise on ‘Electricity,’ and
‘Select Mechanical Exercises.’
‘In the year 1748, I ventured to read lectures on the eclipse of the
sun that fell on the 14th of July in that year. Afterwards I began to
read astronomical lectures on an orrery which I made, and of which the
figures of all the wheelwork are contained in the 6th and 7th plates
of ‘Mechanical Exercises.’ I next began to make an apparatus for
lectures on mechanics, and gradually increased the apparatus for other
parts of experimental philosophy, buying from others what I could not
make for myself. I then entirely left off drawing pictures, and
employed myself in the much pleasanter business of reading lectures on
mechanics, hydrostatics, hydraulics, pneumatics, electricity, and
astronomy; in all which my encouragement has been greater than I could
have expected.’
To this narrative we shall add the few particulars which are necessary
to complete the view of Ferguson’s life and character. It was through
the zeal of George III in behalf of science, that Ferguson was honored
with the royal bounty of £50 a-year. His majesty had attended some of
the lectures of the ingenious astronomer, and often, after his
accession, sent for him to converse upon scientific topics. He had the
extraordinary honor of being elected a member of the Royal Society,
without paying either the initiatory or the annual fees, which were
dispensed with in his case, from a supposition of his being too poor
to pay them without inconvenience. To the astonishment of all who knew
him, it was discovered, after his death, that he was possessed of
considerable wealth――about £6000. ‘Ferguson,’ says Charles Hutton in
his _Mathematical Dictionary_, ‘must be allowed to have been a very
uncommon genius, especially in mechanical contrivances and inventions,
for he constructed many machines himself in a very neat manner. He had
also a good taste in astronomy, as well as in natural and experimental
philosophy, and was possessed of a happy manner of explaining himself
in a clear, easy, and familiar way.
His general mathematical knowledge, however, was little or nothing. Of
algebra he understood little more than the notation; and he has often
told me that he could never demonstrate one proposition in Euclid’s
Elements; his constant method being to satisfy himself as to the truth
of any problem with a measurement by scale and compasses.’ He was a
man of very clear judgment in everything that he professed, and of
unwearied application to study: benevolent, meek, and innocent in his
manners as a child: humble, courteous, and communicative: instead of
pedantry, philosophy seemed to produce in him only diffidence and
urbanity. After a long and useful life, worn out with study, age, and
infirmities, he died November 16, 1776.