Bruce returns to Europe.--Visits Paris--Italy.--Returns to
England.--Quarrels with the Writers of the Day.--Retires to
Scotland.--Marries.--At last publishes his Travels.--The
Incredulity of the Credulous.--Bruce's
Disappointment--Sorrow--Death.
"Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,
Who never to himself has said,
This is my own, my native land!
Whose heart has ne'er within him burn'd,
As HOME his footsteps he has turn'd,
From wandering on a foreign strand?"
But, although "home is home, though ever so homely," there is, perhaps,
no idea in the human mind more indefinite than that which circumscribes
the precise limits of our "home;" for, like the pupil of the eye, it
dilates and contracts according to circumstances.
The European who has long sojourned under the constellations of the
southern hemisphere, feels that he is "at home" when, from the
neighbourhood of the Line, he first sees his old friend, the north star,
rising above the horizon. To this man, home is for a moment the
hemisphere in which he was born. Our own country, our own county, our
own town, parish, house, room, are homes of different dimensions; and,
regardless of all these, the sailor-boy has often felt that he was not
really "at home" till he once more found himself in his mother's arms.
Bruce considered himself "at home" as soon as he landed at Marseilles;
and we have deemed the foregoing observations necessary to account for
the time which will yet elapse before he actually revisits his native
land.
The Comte de Buffon, M. Guys, and many others who had taken particular
interest in his travels, came to congratulate him on his return, and to
listen to his adventures and discoveries. From their honourable
friendship and in their liberal society Bruce for a short time enjoyed
that refined intellectual happiness which is only known in civilized
life. His health, however, was much impaired, and for five-and-thirty
days he suffered very great agony from a worm, called faranteit, which
had bedded itself in his leg below the knee. This worm is supposed by
the Arabs to afflict those who have been in the habit of drinking
stagnant water; and their mode of extracting it is by seizing it gently
by the head, and then gradually winding it round a feather. Bruce had
tried this plan; but, from the unskilfulness of his attendant, the worm
was broken, and such severe inflammation ensued that the surgeon advised
him to submit to amputation; "but," says Bruce, "to limp through the
remains of life, after having escaped so many dangers, was hard; so much
so, that the loss of life itself seemed more desirable." The
inflammation, however, was at last reduced, though it did not entirely
terminate for nearly a year after his arrival in Europe; and, as soon as
his health was sufficiently restored, he set out for Paris, accompanied
by the Comte de Buffon.
The reception he met with in that metropolis was exceedingly
flattering. His travels became the subject of general conversation, and
his company was courted by people of learning and rank.
As an acknowledgment of the favours which he had received from the
French nation during the early part of his travels, Bruce presented to
the Royal Library a copy of the Prophecies of Enoch, a literary
curiosity of great value. He also sent to the king's garden at Paris
some of the seeds of rare plants which he had collected in Abyssinia.
In July he left Paris for Italy. He was desirous to try the baths of
Poretta; and, although he was naturally anxious to revisit Scotland, his
native country, he had a still stronger inclination to complete his
drawings of Africa, for which he required leisure, with the advice and
assistance of professional men. He had also another reason, which,
however absurd and unjustifiable, made him obstinately determine,
against the advice of all his friends, to proceed to Italy. Before Bruce
was consul at Algiers, he had fallen in love with a Scottish lady, to
whom he had engaged himself by a promise of marriage. On the banks of
the Nile, on the waters of the Red Sea, among the mountains of
Abyssinia, and in the burning desert of Nubia, Bruce's heart had
remained faithful to his engagement--the charming vision was constantly
before him. At the "hillock of green sod" the reader will remember how
he insisted that Strates should drink to the health of MARIA! and he had
at last hasted homeward, hoping to have all his delightful anticipations
realized. But, on his arrival at Marseilles, he found that the lady had
so far forgotten him, that she was at Rome, very comfortably married to
the Marchese d'Accoramboni.
Sorely disappointed, his feelings highly irritated, his leg still
inflamed from the farenteit, gaunt, weather-beaten, sunburnt, and in
stature six feet four inches, good English measure, Bruce suddenly
appeared at Rome before Filippo Accoramboni, to demand that he should
apologize in writing for having married a lady who had been engaged to
him. The Italian marquis, seeing no good reason for fighting with such a
man, politely assured him he would not have married the lady had he
known she was engaged to him; but Bruce most unreasonably insisted that
this declaration should be expressed in writing, which the marquis very
properly declined, upon which Bruce instantly sent him the following
letter:
_Mr. Bruce to Signor Accoramboni._
"SIR,--Not my heart, but the entreaties of my friends, made me
offer you the alternative by the Abbe Grant. It was not for such
satisfaction that, sick and covered with wounds, I have traversed
so much land and sea to find you.
"An innocent man, employed in the service of my country, without
any provocation or injury from me, you have deprived me of my
honour, by violating all the most sacred rights before God and man;
and you now refuse to commit to writing what you willingly confess
in words. A man of honour and innocence, marquis, knows no such
shifts as these; and it will be well for one of us to-day, if you
had been as scrupulous in doing an injury as you are in repairing
it.
"I am at least your equal, marquis; and God alone can do me justice
for the injury which you have done me. Full of innocence, and with
a clear conscience, I commit my revenge to Him; and I now draw my
sword against you with that confidence with which the reflection of
having done my duty, and the sense of the injustice and violence
which I have suffered from you, without any reason, inspire me.
"At half past nine (French reckoning) I come in my carriage to your
gate; if my carriage does not please you, let your own be ready.
Let us go together to determine which of the two is the most easy,
to offer an affront to an absent man, or to maintain it in his
presence.
"I have the honour to be your humble servant,
"JAMES BRUCE."
This sort of epistle came upon the marchese like the simoom. It was
impossible to stand against it; and there was nothing left for him but
to prostrate himself to the earth, as Bruce had done in the desert. He
therefore made the following reply:
_Sign. Accoramboni to Mr. Bruce._
"SIR--When the marriage with Miss M., at present my wife, was
contracted, it was never mentioned to me that there was a previous
promise made to you, otherwise that connexion should not have taken
place.
"With respect to yourself, on my honour, I have never spoken of you
in any manner, your person not having been known to me. If,
therefore, I can serve you, command me. With the profoundest
respect, I sign myself,
"Your most humble and _obliged_ servant,
"FILIPPO ACCORAMBONI.
"_Al. Sig. Cavaliere Janne Bruce._"
This silly affair being concluded, Bruce remained for some months at
Rome. From the nobility, as well as his countrymen who were there, he
received marks of very particular attention; and Pope Clement XIV., the
celebrated Ganganelli, presented him with a series of gold medals,
relating to the different transactions of his pontificate. In the spring
of 1774 Bruce returned to France, where he resided till the middle of
June, when he left Paris, and very shortly afterward arrived in England,
after an absence of twelve years. The public was naturally impatient to
hear his adventures, and all people of distinction and learning appeared
desirous to seek his acquaintance. He was introduced at court, and
graciously received by his majesty George III., who was pleased not only
to accept his drawings[38] of Baalbec, Palmyra, and the African cities,
but to express his high approbation of the very great exertions which he
had made to extend the boundaries of geographical knowledge.
"When I first came home," says Bruce, "it was with great pleasure I
gratified the curiosity of the whole world by showing them each what
they fancied most curious. I thought this was an office of humanity to
young people and to those of slender fortunes, or those who, from other
causes, had no opportunity of travelling. I made it a particular duty to
attend and explain to men of knowledge and learning, that were
foreigners, everything that was worth the time they bestowed upon
considering the different articles that were new to them, and this I did
at length to the Count de Buffon, and Mons. Gueneau de Montbeliard, and
the very amiable and accomplished Madame d'Aubenton. I cannot say by
whose industry, but it was in consequence of this friendly
communication, a list or inventory (for they could give no more) of all
my birds and beasts was published before I was well got to England."
Frank and open in society, Bruce, in describing his adventures,
generally related those circumstances which he thought were most likely
to amuse people by the contrast they afforded to the European fashions,
customs, and follies of the day.
Conscious of his own integrity, and not suspecting that, in a civilized
country, the statements of a man of honour would be disbelieved, he did
not think it necessary gradually and cautiously to prepare his hearers
for a climate and scenery altogether different from their own, but he at
once landed them in Abyssinia, and suddenly showed them a vivid picture
to which he himself had been long accustomed. They had asked for
novelty, and, in complying with their request, he gave them good
measure, and told them of people who wore rings in their lips instead of
their ears; who anointed themselves, not with bear's grease or pomatum,
but with the blood of cows; who, instead of playing tunes upon them,
wore the entrails of animals as ornaments; and who, instead of eating
hot, putrid meat, licked their lips over bleeding, living flesh. He
described debauchery dreadfully disgusting, because it was so different
from their own. He told them of men who hunted each other; of mothers
who had not seen ten winters; and he described crowds of human beings
and huge animals retreating in terror before an army of little flies! In
short, he told them the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the
truth.
At that time (to say nothing about the present day) the English public
indolently allowed itself, with regard to particular regions of the
earth, to be led and misled by a party of individuals, who dogmatically
dictated what idle theory was to be believed, and what solid information
was to be rejected. These brazen images Bruce refused to worship. In
their presence he maintained his statements, and they frowned upon him
with pompous incredulity. With just indignation, he sneered at their
impertinence and folly; but they knew their power, and they deliberately
banded together to run him down.
"There has not," says Dr. Clarke (who travelled in three quarters of the
globe, and who at Cairo had an opportunity of corroborating Bruce's
statements), "there has not been an example in the annals of literature
of more unfair and disgraceful hostility than that which an intolerant
and invidious party too successfully levelled during a considerable time
against the writings of Bruce."
"I will venture to assert," says Belzoni, "that the only reason why such
doubts could have been started respecting his (Bruce's) work, was the
spirit of contradiction excited by the illiberality of travellers, and
those who were no travellers: the former, because they had not power to
resist jealousy, which, in spite of all their efforts to conceal it,
shows itself through the veil of their pretended liberality and
impartiality; and the latter, because they are unable to control their
bad propensity to dispute and condemn everything they have no knowledge
of."[39]
"It was the misfortune of that traveller (Bruce), who is now no more,"
says Dr. Russel, in his history of Aleppo, "to have known that his
veracity had too often captiously, and sometimes capriciously, been
called in question, owing, besides the nature of his adventures, partly,
I believe, to a certain manner in conversing as well as in writing,
which alienated many who were less than himself disposed to take
offence. He is now beyond the reach of flattery or humiliation; and I
trust it will not be imputed merely to the partiality of friendship, if,
as a small but just tribute to his memory, I repeat here what I have
often before asserted in occasional conversation, that, however I might
regret a constitutional irritability of temper so injurious to its
owner, or however I might wish to have seen him, at times, condescend to
explanations which I have reason to think would have removed prejudices,
I never, either in course of our acquaintance or in the perusal of his
book, found myself disposed to suspect him of any intentional deviation
from the truth" (p. 423).
As soon as Bruce found that in England public opinion was against him,
in sullen indignation he determined to retire into his own country; for,
although all ranks of people were amused with his adventures, yet, as
soon as he perceived that they doubted his facts, his mind was too just
and his spirit too proud to accept a smile as an atonement for a
barbarous prejudice and an unjustifiable insult. Determined in no way to
compromise his honour, he felt that he had better quit England, and
that, under the storm which assailed him, there was "no place like
home!"
In the autumn he accordingly went to the capital of Scotland, where he
was received with that affectionate attention and regard which we must
admit the Scotch to have been always ready to pay to any one among them
who has reflected credit and honour upon their country.
From Edinburgh he proceeded to Kinnaird, where he rebuilt his house, and
for some time occupied himself in arranging his estate, which, during
his long absence, had not only fallen into disorder, but had become
involved in legal difficulties.
For more than a year and a half he was thus employed, enjoying the
bustle and arrangements which served to divert his mind from the subject
which most naturally and severely oppressed it.
On the 20th of March, 1776, he married Mary Dundas, daughter of Thomas
Dundas, Esq., of Fingask, and of Lady Janet Maitland, daughter of the
Earl of Lauderdale. This amiable and accomplished person was much
younger than Bruce; and it is rather a singular coincidence, that she
was born the same year in which his first wife had died.
For some time after his return to Scotland Bruce kept up a
correspondence with his friends in France, but after his marriage he had
little intercourse with literary people.
In the shooting season he generally spent some time at a place called
Ardwhillery, in the Highlands, and there, as well as at Kinnaird, he
amused himself by translating the Prophecies of Enoch from the
Abyssinian. He also made a slow progress in transcribing and arranging
his journals; but, happy in his own domestic circle, and conscious that
he had been a faithful servant to his country, he seemed to prefer
repose to the vexation of laying his travels before the public.
Always fond of astronomy, from which he had derived so much practical
advantage, he erected, on the top of his house at Kinnaird, a temporary
observatory; and, dressed in Abyssinian costume, wearing even the
turban, he occasionally enjoyed very natural and delightful reflections
in gazing, from a tranquil and civilized country, upon constellations in
the heavens, which he had so often watched in moments of danger and
privation; but a man's notions seldom fit his neighbours; and, "Eh! the
laird's gaen daft!" was the opinion which the country people of Kinnaird
secretly expressed among themselves at Bruce's astronomical operations.
After having enjoyed nearly twelve years of quiet domestic happiness,
Bruce lost his wife. She died in 1785, leaving him two children, a son
and daughter. Thus deprived of his best friend and companion, he again
became restless and melancholy. "The love of solitude," he very justly
says, "is the constant follower of affliction. This again naturally
turns an instructed mind to study." These feelings Bruce's friends
strongly encouraged, and they used every endeavour to rouse him from his
melancholy, and to persuade him to occupy his mind in the arrangement
and publication of his travels.
"My friends unanimously assailed me," he says, "in the part most
accessible when the spirits are weak, which is vanity. They represented
to me how ignoble it was, after all my dangers and difficulties, to be
conquered by a misfortune incident to all men, the indulgence of which
was unreasonable in itself, fruitless in its consequence, and so unlike
the expectation I had given my country by the firmness and intrepidity
of my former character and behaviour.
"Others, whom I mention only for the sake of comparison, below all
notice on any other account, attempted to succeed in the same design by
anonymous letters and paragraphs in the newspapers; and thereby absurdly
endeavoured to oblige me to publish an account of those travels, which
they affected, at the same time, to believe I had never performed."
"It is universally known," states the Gentleman's Magazine for 1789,
"that doubts have been entertained _whether Mr. Bruce was ever in
Abyssinia_. The Baron de Tott, speaking of the sources of the Nile,
says, 'A traveller named Bruce, it is said, has pretended to have
discovered them. I saw at Cairo the servant who was his guide and
companion during the journey, who assured me that he had _no knowledge
of any such discovery_.'"
To the persuasions of his friends Bruce at last yielded, and, as soon as
he resolved to undertake the task, he performed it with his usual energy
and application. In about three years he submitted the work, nearly
finished, to his very constant and sincere friend, the Hon. Daines
Barrington. In the mean while, his enemies triumphantly maintained a
clamour against him, and in his study he was assailed by the most
virulent accusations of exaggeration and falsehood; and all descriptions
of people were against him, from the moralist of the day down to the
witty Peter Pindar.
In the Gentleman's Magazine for 1789, it is stated that Johnson had
declared to Sir John Hawkins, "that when he first conversed with Mr.
Bruce, the Abyssinian traveller, he was _very much inclined to believe
that he had been there, but that he had afterward altered his opinion_!"
Peter Pindar amused all people (except Bruce) by his satirical flings,
one of which was,
"Nor have I been where men (what loss, alas!)
Kill half a cow, and turn the rest to grass."
In the year 1790, seventeen years after his return to Europe, Bruce's
work was printed and laid before the public. It consisted of five large
quarto volumes, and was entitled, "Travels to discover the Sources of
the Nile, in the years 1768, 1769, 1770, 1771, 1772, and 1773, by James
Bruce of Kinnaird, Esq., F.R.S."
The work was dedicated to the king; and in his preface Bruce frankly
explains the reasons which had delayed for so many years the publication
of his travels, and admits that "an undeserved and unexpected neglect
and want of patronage had been at least part of the cause. But," he
continues, "it is with great pleasure and readiness I now declare that
no fantastical nor deformed motive, no peevish disregard, much less
contempt, of the judgment of the world, had any part in the delay which
has happened to this publication. The candid and instructed public, the
impartial and unprejudiced foreigner, are tribunals merit should
naturally appeal to; there it always has found sure protection against
the influence of cabals, and the virulent strokes of envy, malice, and
ignorance."
He concludes his preface with the following noble words:
"I have only to add, that were it probable, as in my decayed state of
health it is not, that I should live to see a second edition of this
work, all well-founded, judicious remarks suggested should be gratefully
and carefully attended to; but I do solemnly declare to the public in
general that I never will refute or answer any cavils, captious or idle
objections, such as every new publication seems unavoidably to give
birth to, nor ever reply to those witticisms and criticisms that appear
in newspapers and periodical writings. What I have written I have
written. My readers have before them, in the present volumes, all that I
shall ever say, directly or indirectly, upon the subject; and I do,
without one moment's anxiety, trust my defence to an impartial,
well-informed, and judicious public."
Now, had the public thus addressed been really "impartial,
well-informed, and judicious," what a favourable impression would it
have formed of a work appearing under circumstances which so peculiarly
entitled it to belief! The author was not only of good family, but a man
evidently proud of the same, and therefore not likely wilfully to
disgrace it. He had received a liberal education, inherited an
independent fortune, and for a number of years had deliberately prepared
himself for the travels he had performed. He had not hastily passed
through the countries which he described, but remained in them for six
years. His descriptions were not of that trifling personal nature which
in a short time it might be difficult to confirm or confute, but, with
mathematical instruments in his hands, he professed to have determined
the latitudes and longitudes of every place of importance that he
visited, thus offering to men of science of all future ages data whereby
to condemn him if he was inaccurate; while these data were of a
description not to afford the slightest pleasure or amusement to the
general reader. The work was not a hasty production; on the contrary, it
appeared seventeen years after the travels it described had been
concluded; and, finally, it was the production of an old man, who in
fact, and in his own just opinion, had but a very few years to live;
whose constitution had been worn out by the climates which he described,
and whose fortune had been seriously impaired by his protracted absence.
But his enemies, with pen in hand, like Shylock whetting his knife,
impatiently were waiting for his book; and it no sooner appeared than
Bruce was deprived of what was nearest his heart--his honour and his
reputation.
It was useless to stand against the storm which assailed him. His
volumes were universally disbelieved; and yet it may be most confidently
stated, that they do not contain a single statement which, according to
our present knowledge of the world, can even be termed improbable.
Nevertheless, in attentively reading the latest edition of Bruce's
Travels, it must be evident to every one that, in point of composition,
the work has very great faults. Bruce had an immense quantity of
information to give, but he wanted skill to impart it as it deserved;
and certainly nothing can be worse than the arrangement of his
materials. He hardly starts with his narrative before we have him
talking quite familiarly of people and places known only to himself;
and, although perfectly at ease and at home, he forgets that his reader
is an utter stranger in the land.
He seems, likewise, never to have reflected that the generality of
mankind were not as fond as himself of seeking to trace a dark
speculative question to its source. His theories, which, whether right
or wrong, are certainly ingenious, constantly break the thread of his
narrative; and, like his minute history of all the kings of Abyssinia
supposed to have reigned from the time of Solomon to this day, they wear
out the patience of the reader. Yet these were evidently very favourite
parts of his volumes; and, eager in detailing evidence and arguments
which he conceived to be of great importance, he occasionally neglected
his narrative, confused his facts and dates, and from his notes being
made on separate slips of paper, he fell into several careless mistakes.
His dates also are occasionally wrong; but in his notes which he brought
to England, they are often inserted in so trembling a hand, that it is
but too evident they were written on a bed of sickness. Besides, it must
be evident to every one, that, when a man visits such immense countries
as Bruce travelled over, his great difficulty is to attend to details.
No man can attempt to conduct a trigonometrical survey, and to fill it
up at the same time: if he has to determine the grand features of the
country, it is impossible that he should be very attentive to minute
parts; and if he be particular in his details, he can look but little to
the general character of the regions he describes.
But Bruce was disbelieved _in toto_; and it was even proclaimed that he
had never been in Abyssinia at all! Dr. Clarke says: "Soon after the
publication of his Travels to discover the sources of the Nile, several
copies of the work were sold in Dublin as waste paper, in consequence of
the calumnies circulated against the author's veracity."
Nothing could be more dignified than his behaviour under such cruel
treatment. He treated his country with the silent contempt which it
deserved, disdaining to make any reply to publications impeaching his
veracity; and when his friends earnestly entreated him to alter, modify,
and explain the accounts which he had given, he firmly replied, in the
words of his preface, "What I have written I have written!"
To his daughter, his favourite child, he alone opened his heart.
Although scarcely twelve years of age when he published his Travels, she
was his constant companion; and he used to teach her the proper mode of
pronouncing the Abyssinian words, "that he might leave," as he observed,
"some one behind him who could pronounce them correctly." He repeatedly
said to her, with feelings highly excited, "I shall not live to see it,
but _you_ probably will, and you will then see the truth of all I have
written thoroughly confirmed." In this expectation, however, it may here
be observed, Bruce was deceived.
This daughter, who afterward married John Jardine, Esq., an advocate in
Edinburgh, never lived to see justice done to the memory of her beloved
parent. When Dr. Clarke's examination of the Abyssinian dean strongly
corroborated some of Bruce's statements, Mrs. Jardine, who was then ill
in bed, sketched with her pencil a short account of this confirmation,
so happily expressed that it appeared in the Scots' Magazine for
December, 1819, with scarcely the alteration of a word. To the last hour
of her life she was devotedly attached to the memory of her excellent
father; and in a memorandum written by one of the ablest authors of the
present day, she has been described to us as one of the most amiable and
intelligent women he ever knew.
After the publication of his Travels, Bruce occupied himself in the
management of his estate and of his extensive collieries. He visited
London occasionally, and kept up a correspondence with Daines Barrington
and with Buffon. He also employed his time in biblical literature, and
even projected an edition of the Bible, with notes, pointing out
numberless instances in which the Jewish history was singularly
confirmed by his own observations.
His notions of his own consequence and of the antiquity of his family
were high, and he had, consequently, the reputation of being a proud
man; yet he was in the habit of entertaining at Kinnaird, with great
hospitality, strangers, and those people of distinction who visited him;
and in his own family he was a charming companion, entering into the
amusements of his children with great delight. His young and amiable
daughter used to walk, almost every morning, by his side, while Bruce,
who had now grown exceedingly stout and lusty, rode slowly over his
estate to his collieries, mounted on a horse of great power and size. At
Kinnaird he was often seen wearing the turban and reclining in an
Eastern costume; and in those moments it may easily be conceived that
his thoughts flew with eager pleasure to the mountains of
Abyssinia--that Ozoro Esther, Ras Michael, Gusho, Powussen, Fasil, Tecla
Mariam, were before his eyes; and that, in their society, beloved,
respected, and admired, he was once again--Yagoube, the white man! But,
although his life at Kinnaird was apparently tranquil, his wounded
feelings respecting his travels occasionally betrayed themselves. One
day, while he was at the house of a relation in East Lothian, a
gentleman present bluntly observed that it was _impossible_ that the
natives of Abyssinia could eat raw meat! Bruce said not a word; but,
leaving the room, he shortly returned from the kitchen with a piece of
raw beefsteak, peppered and salted in the Abyssinian fashion. "You will
eat that, sir, or fight me!" he said. When the gentleman had eaten up
the raw flesh, Bruce calmly observed, "Now, sir, you will never again
say it is _impossible_!"
Single-speech Hamilton was Brace's first-cousin and intimate friend. One
evening, at Kinnaird, he said, "Bruce! to convince the world of your
power of drawing, you need only draw us now something in as good a style
as those drawings of yours which they say have been done for you by
Balugani, your Italian artist." "Gerard!" replied Bruce, very gravely,
"you made _one_ fine speech, and the world doubted its being your own
composition; but if you will stand up now here, and make another speech
as good, we shall believe it to have been your own."
These trifling anecdotes sufficiently show how sensitive Bruce was to
the unjust insults that had been offered to him. For twenty years that
had elapsed since his return to Europe, he had endured treatment which
it was totally out of his power to repel. It is true, he had been
complimented by Dr. Blair and a few others on the valuable information
he had revealed; but the public voice still accused him of falsehood,
or, what is equally culpable, of wilful exaggeration; and against the
public in mass an individual can do nothing. Bruce's happiness was now
at an end; he had survived his reputation. When he was asked, "What
could he do against so many?" he answered, "DIE!" and this catastrophe
soon happened.
The last act of Brace's life was one of refined and polite attention. A
large party had dined at Kinnaird, and, as they were about to depart,
Bruce was gayly talking to a young lady in the drawing-room, when,
suddenly observing that her aged mother was proceeding to her carriage
unattended, he hurried to the great staircase. In this effort, the foot
which had carried him safely through all his dangers chanced to fail
him; he fell down several of the steps, broke some of his fingers,
pitched on his head, and never spoke again!
Thus died, in the sixty-fourth year of his age, in the healthy winter of
his life, in vigour of mind and body, James Bruce of Kinnaird, a
Scotchman, who was religious, loyal, honourable, brave, prudent, and
enterprising. He was too proud of his ancestors, yet his posterity have
reason to be proud of him. His temper was eager, hasty, and impetuous;
he but selected for the employment of his life enterprises of danger, in
which haste, eagerness, and impetuosity were converted into the means of
serving the cause of science and his country. The zeal with which he
toiled for the approbation of the world, and the pain he felt from its
cruelty and injustice, exclude him from ranking among those great men
who, by the help of religion, or even philosophy, may have learned to
despise both; yet it must be observed, that, had he possessed this
equanimity of mind, he would never have undertaken the great things
which he accomplished.
Bruce belonged to that fearless race of men who are ever ready
"To set their life upon a cast,
And stand the hazard of the die."
He was merely a knight-errant in search of new regions of the world; yet
the steady courage with which he encountered danger--his patience and
fortitude in adversity--his good sense in prosperity--the skill and
judgment with which he steered his lonely course through some of the
most barren and barbarous regions of the earth, bending even the
ignorance, passions, and prejudices of the people he visited to his own
advantage--the graphic truth with which he describes the strange scenes
that he witnessed, and his inflexible courage in maintaining the truth
of his assertions against the mean, barbarous incredulity of his age,
most deservedly place him at the head of his own class, where he stands
second to none. His example, therefore, is well worthy the attention and
study of every individual whose duty or inclination may lead him to
attempt to penetrate the yet unknown, perilous, and uncivilized regions
of the globe.
Four days after his death, his remains, attended by his tenantry and by
several of the principal men in the country, were deposited in the
churchyard of Larbert, in a tomb which Bruce had built for his wife and
his infant child.
On the south side of the monument there is the following inscription:
IN THIS TOMB ARE DEPOSITED THE REMAINS
OF
JAMES BRUCE, ESQ., OF KINNAIRD,
WHO DIED ON THE 27TH OF APRIL, 1794,
IN THE 64TH YEAR OF HIS AGE.
HIS LIFE WAS SPENT IN PERFORMING
USEFUL AND SPLENDID ACTIONS.
HE EXPLORED MANY DISTANT REGIONS.
HE DISCOVERED THE SOURCES OF THE NILE.
HE TRAVERSED THE DESERTS OF NUBIA.
HE WAS AN AFFECTIONATE HUSBAND,
AN INDULGENT PARENT,
AN ARDENT LOVER OF HIS COUNTRY.
BY THE UNANIMOUS VOICE OF MANKIND,
HIS NAME IS ENROLLED WITH THOSE
WHO WERE CONSPICUOUS
FOR GENIUS, FOR VALOUR, AND FOR VIRTUE.
The descendants of James Bruce of Kinnaird remain to this day in their
country--unrewarded.
FOOTNOTES:
[38] A great deal has been written and said against Bruce for having
presented to the king, _as his own performance_, these drawings, which
it has been very liberally assumed were the productions of Balugani, his
Italian clerk. But, even admitting that Balugani held the pencil, we
submit that Bruce was fully entitled to present them to the king and his
country _as his own productions_. They were not works of genius or
imagination, but architectural drawings, the plan and elevation of which
were regularly shown by a scale annexed. Their value was their minute
accuracy; and their merit consisted in the danger and difficulty with
which such details had been procured.
[39] The writer of this was acquainted with Belzoni, and has heard him
describe scenes in his travels perhaps quite as marvellous as anything
told by Bruce; and, knowing the character of the man, he could not for a
moment doubt their entire truth.--_Am. Ed._