Great interests were at stake, for Richelieu, reckoning upon the

monarch’s weak health, meditated procuring the regency for himself. Anne

of Austria, aware of this intention, approved of the project of

Cinq-Mars, which of course implied the assassination of the Cardinal. No

other mode of defying his power and talent could have been contemplated.

But Richelieu was on the watch. The Court was then in the south of

France, engaged in the conquest of Roussillon, a situation favourable

for the relation of the conspirators with Spain. The Minister surprised

one of the emissaries, had the fortune to seize a treaty concluded

between them and the enemies of France; and with this flagrant proof of

their treason, he repaired to Louis, and forced from him an order for

their arrest. It was tantamount to their condemnation. Cinq-Mars and his

friends perished on the scaffold; Anne of Austria was again humbled; and

every enemy of the Cardinal shrunk in awe and submission before his

ascendency. Amongst them was the King himself, whom Richelieu looked

upon as an equal in dignity, an inferior in mind and in power. The

guards of the Cardinal were numerous as the Monarch’s, and independent

of any authority save that of their immediate master. A treaty was even

drawn up between king and minister, as between two potentates. But the

power and the pride of Richelieu reached at once their height and their

termination. A mortal illness seized him in the latter days of 1642, a

few months after the execution of Cinq-Mars. No remorse for his cruelty

or abatement of his pride marked his last moments. He summoned the

monarch like a servant to his couch, instructed him what policy to

follow, and appointed the minister who was to be his own successor. Even

in the last religious duties, the same character and the same spirit

were observable. As his cardinal’s robe was a covering and excuse for

all crimes in life, he seemed to think that it exempted him from the

common lot of mortals after death.

Such was the career of this supereminent statesman, who, although in the

position of Damocles all his life, with the sword of the assassin

suspended over his head, surrounded with enemies, and with insecure and

treacherous support even from the monarch whom he served, still not only

maintained his own station, but possessed time and zeal to frame and

execute gigantic projects for the advancement of his country and of his

age. It makes no small part of Henry IV.’s glory that he conceived a

plan for diminishing the power of the House of Austria. Richelieu,

without either the security or the advantages of the king and the

warrior, achieved it. Not only this, but he dared to enter upon the war

at the very same time when he was humbling that aristocracy which had

hitherto composed the martial force of the country.

The effects of his domestic policy were indeed more durable than those

of what he most prided himself upon, his foreign policy. The latter was

his end, the former his means; but the means were the more important of

the two. For half a century previous, kings had been acquiring a

sacro-sanctity, a power founded on respect, which equalled that of

Asiatic despots; whilst at the same time their real sources of power

remained in the hands of the aristocracy. From this contradiction, this

want of harmony betwixt the theoretic and the real power of monarchs,

proceeded a state of licence liable at all times to produce the most

serious convulsions. To this state of things Richelieu put an end for

ever. He crushed the power of the great nobility, as Henry VII., by very

different means, had done before him in England. He made Louis a

sovereign in the most absolute sense; he reformed and changed the whole

system of administration, destroyed all local authorities, and

centralized them, as the term is, in the capital and the court. We see,

accordingly, that it was only the capital which could oppose Mazarin;

all provincial force was destroyed by Richelieu. He it was, in fact, who

founded the French monarchy, such as it existed until near the end of

the eighteenth century, a grand, indeed, rather than a happy result. He

was a man of penetrating and commanding intellect, who visibly

influenced the fortunes of Europe to an extent which few princes or

ministers have equalled. Unscrupulous in his purposes, he was no less so

in the means by which he effected them. But so long as men are honoured,

not for their moral excellences, but for the great things which they

have done for themselves, or their country, the name of Richelieu will

be recollected with respect, as that of one of the most successful

statesmen that ever lived.

His measures with respect to commerce were very remarkable. He proposed

to render the French marine as formidable as the French armies, and

chose the wisest means in favouring colonization and commercial

companies for the purpose. The chief part of their successful

settlements in the east and west the French owe to Richelieu. In

financial measures he showed least sagacity, and the disordered state in

which he left this branch of the administration was the principal cause

of the difficulties of his successor.

As a patron of letters, Richelieu has acquired a reputation almost

rivalling that of his statesmanship. His first and earliest success in

life had been as a scholar supporting his theses; and, as it is

continually observed that great men form very erroneous judgments of

their own excellences, he ever prided himself especially in his powers

as a penman: it was a complete mistake on his part. He has left a

considerable quantity of theological tracts of trifling merit.

Not content with his own sphere of greatness, he aspired to the minor

praise of being skilled in the fashionable literature of the day; and

amused himself by composing dramatic pieces, some of which Corneille was

employed to correct. The independence of the poet, and the pride of the

patron, led to a quarrel of which we have given some account in the life

of the great tragedian. In 1635 Richelieu founded the French Academy. We

should expect to find in his political writings traces of the

master-hand of one, who, with a mind of unusual power, had long studied

the subject of which he wrote. But those which are ascribed to him, for

none, we believe are avowed, or absolutely known to be his, are of

unequal merit. The ‘Mémoires de la Mère, et du Fils,’ are mediocre, and

unworthy of him. The ‘Testament Politique du Cardinal de Richelieu’ (the

authenticity of which is strongly contested by Voltaire) bears a much

higher reputation as a work upon Government. La Bruyere has said of it,

that the man who had done such things ought never to have written, or to

have written in the style in which it is written.

There are several English lives of Cardinal Richelieu, most of them

published in the seventeenth century, but none which we know to be of

authority. In French, we may recommend the reader to the life of Aubery.

The best account of Richelieu, however, is said to be contained in the

‘Histoire de Louis XIII.’ by P. Griffet.

[Illustration]

[Illustration:

_Engraved by W. Holl._

J. H. WOLLASTON.

_From the original Picture by J. Jackson

in the possession of the Royal Society._

Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful

Knowledge.

_London, Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._

]

[Illustration]

WOLLASTON.

No record of this eminent philosopher has yet appeared, except his

scientific papers, and a few meagre biographical sketches published

shortly after his death. It is to be hoped that some one duly qualified

for the task will become the historian of his life and labours before it

is too late.

William Hyde Wollaston was born August 6, 1766. His grandfather was well

known as the author of a work, entitled ‘The Religion of Nature

Delineated.’ He completed his education at Caius College, Cambridge. It

has been said, in most of the memoirs of him, that he obtained the

honour of being senior wrangler. This is a mistake, arising from Francis

Wollaston, of Sidney, having gained the first place in 1783. It appears

from the Cantabrigienses Graduati that he did not graduate in Arts; but,

with a view to practising medicine, proceeded to the degrees of M.B. in

1787, and M.D. in 1793. He was not unversed, however, in mathematical

studies. He first established himself as a physician at Bury St.

Edmunds, in Suffolk; but meeting with little encouragement, removed to

London. Soon after this change of abode, he became a candidate for the

office of physician to St. George’s Hospital, in opposition to Dr.

Pemberton. The latter was elected, and Wollaston, in a fit of pique,

declared that he would abandon the profession, and never more write a

prescription, were it for his own father.

He kept to his resolution, hasty and unwise as it may seem; and from

this time forward devoted himself solely to the cultivation of science.

Even in an economical view he had no cause to regret this, for he

acquired wealth by the exercise of his inventive genius. One single

discovery, that of a method by which platinum can be made ductile and

malleable, is said to have produced him about thirty thousand pounds. It

has been objected that he derogated from the dignity of the philosophic

character by too keen an eye towards making his experiments profitable:

but in this field, if in any, the labourer is surely worthy of his

reward; and unless it can be shown that he turned away from any train of

discovery, because it did not promise pecuniary gain, surely not a

shadow of blame can be attached to him for profiting by the legitimate

earnings of his industry and talents. That he was fond of acquiring

money, there is good reason to believe; but there is a story, which has

been before told, and which we have ourselves some reason to consider

authentic, which proves that he could use nobly that which he had gained

frugally. A gentleman, in embarrassed circumstances, requested his

interference to procure some place under government. He replied, “I have

lived to sixty without asking a single favour from men in office, and it

is not, after that age, that I shall be induced to do it, were it even

to serve a brother. If the enclosed can be of any use to you, in your

present difficulties, pray accept it; for it is much at your service.”

The enclosure was a cheque for ten thousand pounds.

One of Wollaston’s peculiarities was an exceeding jealousy of any person

entering his laboratory. “Do you see that furnace?” he once said to a

friend, who had penetrated unbidden to this sacred ground. “Yes.” “Then

make a profound bow to it, for this is the first, and will be the last

time of your seeing it.” It is not a necessary inference, that this

dislike to having his processes observed arose from jealousy either of

his fame or his profit: it may have been merely the result of a somewhat

saturnine and reserved temper, which seems to have shunned unnecessary

publicity on all occasions.

Wollaston was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society in 1793. He was

appointed one of its Secretaries, November 6, 1806. His first paper,

which is on medical subjects, is published in the Philosophical

Transactions for 1797; and, until his death, he continued to be a

frequent contributor. His papers amount in number to thirty-nine, and

must be well examined before a just idea can be formed of the extent and

variety of his scientific knowledge. They embrace various subjects

connected with Pathology, Optics, Electricity, Chemistry,

Crystallography, and mechanical contrivances of various sorts. He

contributed a few papers to other philosophical works. Of the Geological

Society he was an active member, though he sent no memoirs to its

Transactions; and on the first annual meeting of that body after his

death, the president, Dr. Fitton, bore testimony to the high value of

his services to the science of Geology.

The lives of Wollaston and Davy began and ended nearly at the same time,

and ran parallel to each other; they never crossed. Each was original,

and independent of the other; their minds were unlike, their processes

different, and the discoveries of one never interfered with those of the

other. “The chemical manipulations of Wollaston and Davy,” we quote from

Dr. Paris, “offered a singular contrast to each other, and might be

considered as highly characteristic of the temperaments and intellectual

qualities of these remarkable men. Every process of the former was

regulated with the most scrupulous regard to microscopic accuracy, and

conducted with the utmost neatness of detail. It has been already stated

with what turbulence and apparent confusion the experiments of the

latter were conducted; and yet each was equally excellent in his own

style; and as artists, they have not unaptly been compared to Teniers

and Michael Angelo. By long discipline, Wollaston acquired such power in

commanding and fixing his attention upon minute objects, that he was

able to recognize resemblances, and to distinguish differences, between

precipitates produced by re-agents, which were invisible to ordinary

observers, and which enabled him to submit to analysis the smallest

particle of matter with success. Davy on the other hand obtained his

results by an intellectual process, which may be said to have consisted

in the extreme rapidity with which he seized upon, and applied,

appropriate means at appropriate moments.

“To this faculty of minute observation, which Dr. Wollaston applied with

so much advantage, the chemical world is indebted for the introduction

of more simple methods of experimenting: for the substitution of a few

glass tubes and plates of glass for capacious retorts and receivers, and

for the art of making grains give the results which previously required

pounds. A foreign philosopher once called on Dr. Wollaston with letters

of introduction, and expressed an anxious desire to see his laboratory.

‘Certainly,’ we replied; and immediately produced a small tray

containing some glass tubes, a blow-pipe, two or three watch-glasses, a

slip of platinum, and a few test bottles.” We may conclude, however,

that this was not the whole of Wollaston’s apparatus, nor he in this

quite ingenuous; and the anecdote forms another illustration of his

dislike to admitting any one into his workroom.

To this ingenious turn of mind and love of minute accuracy we owe

several valuable instruments. Of these the most important is his

reflective Goniometer, or angle-measurer, which by calling in the

unerring laws of optics, enables the observer to ascertain within a

small limit of error, the angle contained between two faces of a

crystal, and introduced, in the words of Dr. Fitton, “into

crystallography a certainty and precision, which the most skilful

observers were before unable to attain.” Another of his contrivances is

the sliding Scale of chemical equivalents, an instrument highly useful

to the practical chemist. We also owe to him the Camera Lucida, which

enables persons unacquainted with drawing, to take accurate sketches of

any objects presented to their view. An amusing and characteristic

anecdote of his fondness for producing great results by small means, is

told by Dr. Paris. Shortly after he had witnessed Davy’s brilliant

experiments with the galvanic battery, he met a brother chemist in the

street, and taking him aside, pulled a tailor’s thimble and a small

phial out of his pocket, and poured the contents of the one into the

other. The thimble was a small galvanic battery, with which he instantly

heated a platinum wire to a white heat.

We have already spoken of the profits which he derived from the

manufacture of platinum. This intractable metal, most valuable in the

arts from its extreme difficulty of fusion, and power of resisting

almost all agents, was rendered by these very qualities almost incapable

of being reduced into that malleable form, in which alone it would be

made extensively useful. His method of working it is detailed at length

in his last Bakerian Lecture, published in the Philosophical

Transactions for 1829, and must be read before a person unacquainted

with metallurgy can imagine how tedious and laborious were the processes

by which he succeeded in bringing platinum to bear the hammer. By an

ingenious contrivance, described in the Transactions of 1813, he drew

platinum into wire 1/5000 of an inch in diameter, highly valuable for

the construction of telescopes; and even reduced some portions to the

inconceivable tenuity of 1/30,000. Several of his papers are devoted to

the consideration of platinum, and of the two new metals, palladium and

rhodium, which, in the course of his inquiries, he discovered in small

quantities in the ores of platinum. These also he succeeded in rendering

malleable. Rhodium is remarkable for its hardness, which has caused it

to be used to point the nibs of metallic pens.

During the autumn of 1828 Dr. Wollaston suffered from an affection of

the brain, of which he died, December 22, 1828, retaining his faculties

to the last. During the period of his illness, feeling that his life was

precarious, he devoted himself to communicating, by dictation, his

various discoveries and improvements to the world. Five papers by him

were read during the last session of the Royal Society during that year,

in one of which he alludes affectingly to his illness, as obliging him

to commit his observations to writing more hastily than he was wont.

Another is the Bakerian Lecture on the manufacture of platinum, already

mentioned.

Previous to his death he invested 1000_l._ stock in the name of the

Royal Society, the interest of which he directed to be employed for the

encouragement of experiments in Natural Philosophy. He was never

married, and was Senior Fellow of Caius at his death. He was privately

buried at Chiselhurst in Kent; of which parish his father had been

rector.

Dr. Wollaston’s philosophical character is thus described in the preface

to a late edition of Dr. Henry’s ‘Elements of Experimental

Chemistry:’—“Dr. Wollaston was endowed with bodily senses of

extraordinary acuteness and accuracy, and with great vigour of

understanding. Trained in the discipline of the exact sciences, he had

acquired a powerful command over his attention, and had habituated

himself to the most rigid correctness both of thought and language. He

was sufficiently provided with the resources of the mathematics, to be

enabled to pursue with success profound inquiries in mechanical and

optical philosophy, the results of which enabled him to unfold the

causes of phenomena not before understood, and to enrich the arts

connected with those sciences by the invention of ingenious and valuable

instruments. In chemistry he was distinguished by the extreme nicety and

delicacy of his observations; by the quickness and precision with which

he marked resemblances and discriminated differences; the sagacity with

which he devised experiments and anticipated their results; and the

skill with which he executed the analysis of fragments of new

substances, often so minute as to be scarcely perceptible by ordinary

eyes. He was remarkable, too, for the caution with which he advanced

from facts to general conclusions: a caution which, if it sometimes

prevented him from reaching at once to the most sublime truths, yet

rendered every step of his ascent a secure station from which it was

easy to rise to higher and more enlarged inductions. Thus these

illustrious men, Wollaston and Davy, though differing essentially in

their natural powers and acquired habits, and moving independently of

each other, in different paths, contributed to accomplish the same great

ends, the evolving new elements; the combining matter into new forms;

the increase of human happiness by the improvement of the arts of

civilized life; and the establishment of general laws that will serve to

guide other philosophers onwards through vast and unexplored regions of

scientific discovery.”

[Illustration]

BOCCACCIO.

The family of this celebrated writer, who claims a distinguished place

among the founders of Italian literature, came from the village of

Certaldo, in the valley of the Elsa, about twenty miles south-west of

Florence. His father, Boccaccio di Chellino, was a Florentine merchant,

who, in his visits to Paris, became acquainted with a Frenchwoman, of

whom Giovanni Boccaccio, the subject of this memoir, was born, A. D.

1313. It is uncertain whether Paris or Florence was the place of his

nativity. He commenced his studies at Florence, under Giovanni da

Strada, a celebrated grammarian; but was apprenticed by his father, when

hardly ten years old, to another merchant, with whom he spent six years

in Paris. Attached to literature, he felt a strong distaste to his

mercantile life. He manifested the same temper after his return to

Florence; upon which his father sent him to Naples, partly upon

business, partly because he thought that mingling in the pleasures of

that gay city might neutralize his son’s distaste to the laborious

profession in which he was engaged. Robert of Anjou, the reigning king

of Naples, encouraged learning, and his court was the most polished of

the age: and during an abode of eight years in that capital, Boccaccio

became acquainted with most of the learned men of Italy, especially

Petrarch, with whom he contracted a friendship, broken only by death.

There also he fell in love with a lady of rank, whose real name he has

concealed under that of Fiametta. Three persons have been mentioned as

the object of his passion: the celebrated Joanna of Naples,

grand-daughter of Robert; Mary, the sister of Joanna; and another Mary,

the illegitimate daughter of Robert, who seems to have the best claim to

this distinction. It was at Naples, that Boccaccio, inspired by a visit

to Virgil’s tomb, conceived his first longings after literary fame. He

determined to give up commerce, and devote himself entirely to study;

and his father consented to this change, but only on condition that he

should apply himself to the canon law. This was a new source of

annoyance. For several years he pored over “dry decisions and barren

commentaries,” as he expresses himself; until he obtained his doctor’s

degree, and was left at liberty to follow his own pursuits.

[Illustration:

_Engraved by W. Hopwood._

BOCCACCIO.

_From a Print by Cornelius Van Dalen._

Under the Superintendance of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful

Knowledge.

_London, Published by Charles Knight, Pall Mall East._

]

After remaining some time at Florence he returned to Naples; where he

employed himself in writing prose and verse, the Decameron and the

Teseide. His father died in 1349: and having turned his inheritance into

money, he travelled to Sicily, Venice, and other parts of Italy,

collecting manuscripts, frequenting universities and libraries, studying

Greek under Leontius Pilatus of Thessalonica, astronomy under Andalone

del Negro, and Roman literature and antiquities. Manuscripts at this

time were very costly; and he soon exhausted his patrimony in these

pursuits. He then applied himself to transcribing works; and, by dint of

expense and labour, collected a considerable library, which he

bequeathed to the Augustine friars of Santo Spirito, at Florence. But

his means were inadequate to gratify his liberal tastes: and at times he

found himself in very straitened circumstances. It is said that he

sometimes availed himself of his skill as a copyist, to eke out his

resources. In Petrarch he found a generous friend and a wise counsellor.

Boccaccio enjoyed a high reputation among his countrymen for learning

and ability; and he was several times employed by them on embassies and

affairs of state. But of all his missions, the most pleasing was that of

repairing to Padua, to communicate to Petrarch the solemn revocation of

the sentence of exile passed on his father during the factions of 1302;

and to inform him that the Florentines, proud of such a countryman, had

redeemed his paternal property, and earnestly invited him to dwell in

his own land, and confer honour on its then rising university. Though

much affected by this honourable reparation, Petrarch did not at the

time comply with their request.

The Gallery of Portraits: with Memoirs. Volume 2 (of 7) · 第 12 / 19 段