HOME LIFE—LADY ROSCOE—WOODCOTE LODGE—PERSONAL
CHARACTERISTICS—DEATH 190
INDEX 204
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE SIR HENRY ENFIELD ROSCOE
CHAPTER I
WILLIAM ROSCOE—HENRY ROSCOE
The subject of this memoir had no particular pride of ancestry. _Stemmata
quid faciunt?_ Although with no convictions on the subject, he was
willing to believe that his line stretched at least as far back as Adam
and Eve, and he doubted whether any man could with certainty claim—_pace_
Darwin—a more ancient lineage.[1]
As he has told us in his Autobiography, his family was one of the many
that could not trace its origin for more than three or four generations
back. All he knew was that he came of a North-country stock, members of
which—village Hampdens and mute inglorious Miltons—had been settled in
the County Palatine and in the vicinity of Liverpool for many years. He
had a distinguished grandfather, a man of mark and public weight in his
native town, and who bears an honoured name in our literature. Of him
it is related that when a certain Garter Principal King-at-Arms desired
to trace his pedigree (which had hitherto baffled his researches), he
replied that he was a good patriarch, and the proper person to begin a
family, as he had a quiverful of sons. “Accordingly the whole descent is
registered, and the Roscoes may now go on _in sæcula sæculorum_. Amen.”
Mr. William Roscoe—Grandfather Roscoe as he was called in the family
circle—was justly claimed by his grandson to be the first man of
distinction that Liverpool had produced. Although more than one hundred
and fifty years have passed since his birth his name still remains one of
the most prominent in its history. His story is one of the Romances of
Literature.
Born in 1753, he was the son of a market gardener who kept a
bowling-green, attached to a tavern, in what was then a rural district of
Liverpool known as Mount Pleasant. He learned to read and write, and that
was practically all the schooling he received, for at the age of twelve
he was required to help his father in the cultivation of his garden,
and to carry cabbages and potatoes on his head to market. But he had an
insatiable appetite for knowledge, and such leisure as he could secure
he gave to reading and study. His love of literature led him to take
service in a bookseller’s shop, but finding that his duties were those of
a drudge, leaving him little opportunity for gratifying his passion, he
articled himself when fifteen years old to an attorney. He worked hard at
his profession, but still found time to cultivate the Muses, and, with
the assistance of a gifted friend of his own age who taught languages
in a school, he read the Classics and began the study of the literature
of Italy. He early tried his hand at poetry—imitations of Goldsmith and
Shenstone, or translations from the Italian. When he was twenty-four
he published a long poem—“Mount Pleasant”—a characteristically stilted
eighteenth-century production of no great merit and now forgotten,
but which on its appearance was praised by Sir Joshua Reynolds, less,
perhaps, for its poetry than for its passionate protest against the
iniquities of “that execrable sum of all villainies commonly called the
African slave trade”—at that time one of the sources of the commercial
prosperity of Liverpool. The courage of the struggling young lawyer
in thus inveighing against this vicious traffic roused the anger of
some of the wealthiest and most influential of his fellow-citizens. He
followed up his attack by another poem on the “Wrongs of Africa,” and
he had a fierce controversy with an apostate Roman Catholic priest who
had published a sermon on the “Licitness of the Slave Trade” as proved
from the Bible, for which he had been formally thanked by the Liverpool
Corporation.
The coming of the French Revolution was received with enthusiasm by all
eager lovers of civil and political liberty in England. Roscoe, who
welcomed its advent with inspiriting songs and odes, championed its
cause in pamphlets, one of them directed against Burke, who had bitterly
attacked the Jacobins. The ardent young Liberal was now identified with
the Whig party in Liverpool, and was in frequent communication with its
Parliamentary chiefs.
But he was not at heart a politician, and had but little liking for the
turmoil and violence of party strife. “Party,” he had declared with
Pope, “is the madness of many for the gain of a few.” His strongest
inclinations were intellectual, and as his means increased and he was
able to procure books he became more and more drawn to the study of
Italian literature and history. The story of the rise of the Medici
family, and especially the character and achievements of one of its
ablest members, Lorenzo, surnamed the Magnificent, strongly interested
and eventually fascinated him. These studies bore fruit in his well-known
“Life of Lorenzo de’ Medici,” published in 1796. The work was received
with a chorus of approval. The critics declared there had been nothing
like it since Gibbon. Horace Walpole was delighted with it. Men of taste
like Lord Lansdowne and Lord Bristol were equally charmed. It even became
fashionable, and new editions were speedily called for. The book has
been frequently reprinted, and was translated into French, German, and
Italian. In Italy it was received with especial favour as a noble tribute
to the national genius.
Its literary quality has gained for it an assured place in our
literature. As a permanent contribution to Italian history it has less
merit. It must be admitted it lacks features demanded by modern and
more scientific methods of historical treatment. Roscoe, we may assume,
made the best possible use of the material that was available to him.
His business prevented him from visiting Italy, but his friend William
Clarke, who had access to Florentine libraries, supplied him with such
information as he asked for or could obtain. It is obvious from the
work that what mainly interested him was the literary and artistic side
of Lorenzo’s career, and in particular his influence on Italian art and
learning. He had apparently less sympathy with, because he had less
knowledge of, his social and political activities. He was imperfectly
acquainted with the influences which affected him, or which at times he
sought to control. He was sometimes uncritical in his use of authorities,
and his judgment was occasionally at fault. But whatever may be its value
as a serious contribution to history, there is no doubt of its merit as
a piece of literary craftsmanship. It was written under the influence of
an enthusiastic sympathy with and admiration for its subject, to which
no reader could be wholly insensible, and there is much in Roscoe’s
subsequent career, both in his pursuits and in his civic activities, to
show that he was largely inspired by the example of his hero.
In 1798 appeared his translation of Tansillo’s “Nurse,” with a dedication
to his wife; and in 1805 his “Life and Pontificate of Leo the Tenth”—the
son of Lorenzo, and the Pope who saw the rise of the Reformation.
Although this latter book brought its author more money, it was less
favourably received than his “Life of Lorenzo,” mainly on account of his
treatment of the Reformation. But apart from this it is less satisfactory
as a historical work. His knowledge of the contemporary state of
intellectual Europe was too limited to enable him to deal adequately with
a subject of so wide a scope. Nevertheless the book had a large sale,
in spite of, or possibly in consequence of, the fact that the Italian
translation was placed in the “Index.”
Shortly after the publication of his first great work Roscoe renounced
his practice as an attorney. Having a competent fortune, he purchased
Allerton Hall, a fine old Jacobean house in a beautiful situation on the
banks of the Mersey. He now turned his attention to agriculture, set
up a model farm near his estate, cultivated the friendship of Coke of
Holkham, read papers on agricultural subjects to local societies, and
worked at the reclamation of Chat Moss. He also set in order the affairs
of a banking house in which his friend Clarke, who lived in Italy, was a
partner, and he thereby became involved in its direction and management.
But he had still leisure for literary pursuits. He had one of the largest
and most valuable private libraries in the district, especially rich
in Italian history and literature. He interested himself in typography
and induced John M’Creery—a well-known printer of his day—to settle in
Liverpool, where his works were printed. He was a generous lover of the
fine arts, and has the credit of discovering the genius of John Gibson,
the sculptor, originally an apprentice to a marble mason in Liverpool,
whom he sent to Rome. Gibson executed for Roscoe a basso-rilievo in
terra-cotta, now in the Walker Gallery in Liverpool, the patron in
his turn making his _protégé_ free of the treasures of his library at
Allerton Hall. It was in this way that Gibson first became acquainted
with the designs of the great Italian masters. The acquaintance thus
formed with the Roscoe family was continued in the case of Mrs. Sandbach,
a granddaughter of the Italian historian, who possessed many of Gibson’s
works, and was in frequent correspondence with him. Indeed most of the
details of Gibson’s life were only to be gleaned from his letters to Mrs.
Sandbach, who was a very accomplished woman of considerable literary
ability.
Mr. William Roscoe was fond of horticulture, and interested in botanical
pursuits generally. In the words of the late Professor Asa Gray, he was
one of the _Patres conscripti_ of the botany of his time, as the author
of a monograph on the monandrian plants, and of other contributions on
botanical subjects to the _Transactions_ of the Linnean Society. Roscoe’s
influence on the intellectual life of his native town may be seen in the
various educational and artistic institutions which he created or with
which he was concerned in founding. In 1773, when only twenty years of
age, he was one of the projectors of a Society for the Encouragement
of the Arts of Painting and Design, the first public artistic society
in Liverpool. It had only a short existence, but was revived ten years
later, and ultimately developed into the Liverpool Academy, of which
Roscoe became President. He designed and etched the admission card to
its exhibitions, contributed drawings and read papers to its members.
It was the first organization of its kind in the provinces. It not
only encouraged local talent, but served to familiarize Liverpool with
the work of Reynolds, Gainsborough, and other notable painters of the
period. He was a founder and President of the Liverpool Literary and
Philosophical Society; an active member of the Liverpool Library,
afterwards known as the Lyceum, and the first public collection of books
in the town. He was the means of establishing the Liverpool Atheneum,
an institution more especially concerned with the interests of learning
and scholarship. His love of horticulture led him to take an active part
in the creation of a public Botanic Garden; he drew up the plan of its
administration, and at its opening in 1802 gave a thoughtful address on
the obligation which rests upon a commercial community to encourage the
study of abstract science.
But perhaps Roscoe’s greatest service to Liverpool was his share in the
foundation of its Royal Institution. He was chairman of the Committee
which drew up the scheme of its establishment, and wrote the Report for
publication concerning its objects; and at its opening in 1817 gave an
address on the part it was calculated to play in fostering the connection
which ought to exist between the intellectual and the business life of
a city devoted to trade. “It is to the union,” he declared, “of the
pursuits of literature with the affairs of the world that we are to look
for the improvement of both; for the stability and foundation of the one,
and the grace and ornament of the other.” He was no less mindful of the
claims of science: “imperfect indeed would be the civilization of that
people who, devoted to the accumulation of wealth by industry, should,
from an apprehension of expending their means on useless objects, refuse
to encourage scientific inquiries.” He pointed out that all improvements
in the mechanical arts and in manufactures were to be attributed to the
labours and discoveries of those who had applied themselves to the
enlargement of the boundaries of science. Even at that time he was able
to show that many occupations hitherto pursued empirically were being
practised under a growing recognition that they were based on scientific
principles, and that it was only by a wider appreciation of that fact,
combined with increased facilities for the acquisition and diffusion
of scientific knowledge, that the improvement and expansion of such
industries could be secured.
More than sixty years afterwards it fell to his grandson’s lot to
dilate upon the same theme in the same place, and to indicate how the
intervening time of scientific and industrial progress had served to
confirm the wisdom and accuracy of his grandfather’s insight.
Mr. William Roscoe, however eminent he might be in civic virtue, was
precluded from taking any part in the municipal affairs of the town,
as he was not a freeman of the borough. Nor, for the same reason, was
he able to exercise the Parliamentary franchise. But whilst he himself
had no vote, there was nothing to prevent the voters from sending him
to the House of Commons as their representative if he and they were so
minded. In 1806 a swing of the political pendulum brought the Whigs
into general favour, and the burgesses of Liverpool returned him at
the head of the poll. By speech and vote he threw all his influence on
the side of Clarkson and Wilberforce in their successful efforts to
abolish England’s participation in the slave trade. Although those who
sent him to the Legislature must have known his views on this subject,
his constituents were highly incensed at his action in thus seeking to
destroy, as they imagined, one of the chief sources of the prosperity
of the town. Moreover, he had added to the enormity of his offence by
speaking and voting in favour of Catholic Emancipation. Accordingly, a
mixed and muddled mob of ardent Protestants and drunken sailors, crews of
slave-ships, were gathered together in order to assail him on his return
from Westminster at the close of the session. A riot broke out, but his
friends had taken timely precautions, and he escaped without injury. But
the House of Commons had few attractions for him. He resigned his seat,
and nothing would induce him to seek re-election. He still maintained
his interest in the political movements of the time, and became a busy
pamphleteer, wrote in favour of the abolition of slavery as a logical
consequence of the abolition of the slave trade; on Parliamentary reform;
penal jurisprudence and the treatment of criminals; and on national
education.
In 1816 Roscoe, whose prosperity had been hitherto unbroken, was
overtaken by sudden disaster. The downfall of Napoleon and the
termination of the Continental wars were followed by much financial
unrest, and a sudden panic seized the bank in which he was interested.
Although perfectly solvent—its assets exceeded its liabilities by more
than £60,000—it was impossible to realize these assets without grievous
loss; the bank’s credit had been severely shaken, and it was compelled
to stop payment. Roscoe called the bank’s creditors together, explained
its condition, and convinced the majority that with time its position
might be restored. After four years of anxious efforts to rehabilitate
the bank he was forced to give up the struggle owing to the persistent
action of a small number, who insisted on preferential treatment, and he
allowed himself to be made bankrupt. Allerton, with its beautiful gardens
and ample woods, with all its refinements and delights as a home—the home
which had welcomed guests like Aikin and his daughter Mrs. Barbauld, Dr.
Parr the scholar, Fuseli the painter, Coke of Holkham, Henry Brougham,
and many others eminent in politics, learning, and scholarship—had to be
given up, together with all its artistic and literary treasures. Thanks
to the care he spent in cataloguing these works for sale they realized
good prices. Friends vied with each other in preventing the dispersal of
the more valuable books and pictures. Many of the former were secured for
the Atheneum, on condition that he should be allowed their use, and they
still remain on its shelves. His collection of early Italian paintings
was presented to the Royal Institution, and is now in the Walker Art
Gallery.
Roscoe received an honourable discharge. He was now sixty-seven years of
age. With such relics from the wreck of his fortune as could be saved he
set himself heroically to retrieve the disaster which had befallen him.
Literature, which had been the delight of his leisure, now became his
sole remaining prop. Eleven years were still left to him. He rearranged
the fine library of his friend Coke, edited an issue of Pope’s works,
completed the folio monograph on the monandrian plants, and executed
a number of other compilations. His old age was spent in a serene
dignity which secured for him the friendship of a devoted circle and the
universal respect of his townsmen. He had a paralytic attack a year
or so before his death which partially incapacitated him. The end came
peacefully on June 30, 1831.
A sitting statue of him by Chantrey, as one of Liverpool’s most
distinguished citizens, is in the St. George’s Hall, and his name
is associated with the chair of Modern History in the University of
Liverpool.
Washington Irving, in the “Sketch-book,” thus spoke of him:
Those who live only for the world and in the world may be cast
down by the frowns of adversity; but a man like Roscoe is not
to be overcome by the reverses of fortune. They do but drive
him in upon the resources of his own mind.… He lives with
antiquity and posterity; with antiquity in the sweet communion
of studious retirement, and with posterity in the generous
aspirings after future renown.… The man of letters who speaks
of Liverpool, speaks of it as the residence of Roscoe. The
intelligent traveller who visits it inquires where Roscoe is to
be seen. He is the literary landmark of the place, indicating
its existence to the distant scholar. He is like Pompey’s
column at Alexandria, towering alone in classic dignity.
Henry Roscoe, the father of the subject of this biography, was the
seventh and youngest son of Mr. William Roscoe. He was born at Allerton
Hall on April 17, 1799. In physical and mental characteristics he more
nearly resembled his father than did any other member of the family. He
was educated almost entirely at home, and in constant companionship with
his father, from whom he acquired a love for rare and curious books and a
taste for literature and art.
At the time of the panic of 1816, in which his father was so deeply
involved, Henry Roscoe was serving as a clerk in the bank. After its
collapse he entered a lawyer’s office, became a member of the Inner
Temple, and in 1826 was called to the Bar. He had already turned his
attention to literature, and was supporting himself by his pen. In 1825
he gained a considerable success in legal circles by the publication of
an elaborate treatise on “The Law of Actions relating to Real Property,”
and by three small volumes entitled “Westminster Hall,” by his “Law and
Lawyers,” and other works.
In 1828 appeared the first edition of his “Digest of the Law of Evidence
in the Trials of Actions at the Nisi Prius Law,” which in the next ten
years ran through five editions. During 1829 and 1830 he produced a
“Digest of the Law of Bills of Exchange,” which also passed through
many editions, and he contributed to Lardner’s Encyclopædia a volume of
“Lives of Eminent British Lawyers.” For some years he was engaged in
the preparation of Parliamentary Bills, and under the direction of Mr.
Gregson drew up the original draft of the Reform Bills of 1831-1832.
Two years after the death of his father, he produced the “Life of William
Roscoe.” This work, undertaken at the request of the family, was no light
task, on account of the mass of correspondence, pamphlets, etc., which
had to be dealt with. It was completed during three or four months of the
legal vacation, when rest and change were much needed. He was already
suffering from overwork, confinement, and lack of exercise, and this
additional tax upon his strength and nervous energy seriously affected
his health.
Between 1830 and 1835 he produced other legal works, among them, “The
Digest of the Law of Evidence in Criminal Cases,” and a “General Digest
of Law from 1835-6,” and he contributed to many magazines and journals.
In January 1836 he published his last work, a pamphlet “On Pleading the
General Issue.” During the previous summer the serious state of his
health compelled him to abandon the idea of continuing to live in town.
He therefore gave up his house in London and went to reside at Gateacre,
near Liverpool, in the hope that country air and rural life might improve
his condition. He had been appointed in 1834 Judge of the Court of
Passage, Liverpool, by Lord Brougham, then Lord Chancellor, and from that
year until 1836 he omitted no weekly sitting.
Unfortunately persistent ill-health, aggravated by years of overwork and
constant strain, had taxed to the uttermost a delicate constitution, and
in March 1837, after a few weeks of suffering, he died at the age of
thirty-six.
But for his early death he would certainly have risen to high distinction
in his profession. His talents and learning, combined with his moral
worth and charming personality, endeared him to his family and to a large
circle of friends.
An appreciation by Henry Chorley speaks of him as the most gifted of
the sons of the Italian historian—of quick sympathy and solid judgment,
and with such instant justice and strength of decision as belongs to a
truthful, acute, and strong man.
Certain of his legal books were standard works long after his death.
Somebody once asked Sir Henry Roscoe if “Roscoe on Evidence” was any
connection of his. “No nearer than that of father,” was the reply.
In 1831 he married Maria Fletcher, second daughter of a respected
Liverpool merchant, and chairman of the West Indian Committee,
An honest man …
Broadcloth without and a warm heart within,
who also was ruined by the failure of a Liverpool bank. Her maternal
grandfather, Dr. William Enfield, author of a “History of Liverpool”
and of the well-known “Speaker,” a man distinguished for elegance of
taste and sound literary judgment, was the last rector of the famous
Warrington Academy, where he had as colleagues at one time or another,
Joseph Priestley, the chemist; Taylor of Norwich; Aikin, the father of
Mrs. Barbauld; John Reinhold Forster, the naturalist to one of Cook’s
expeditions; and Gilbert Wakefield, the editor of “Lucretius.”
CHAPTER II
HENRY ENFIELD ROSCOE—BIRTH AND EDUCATION
Henry Roscoe brought his young wife to 10 Powis Place, Great Ormond
Street, London, and here on January 7, 1833, his only son, Henry Enfield
Roscoe, first saw the light. A daughter, Harriet, was born in 1836.
The young judge had little opportunity of making provision for his
family, and on his death they were left with very straitened means.
His widow moved with her children into a small cottage at Gateacre,
and as she had considerable artistic gifts sought to add to her
slender income by teaching water-colour painting at a girls’ school
in the vicinity. She also possessed some of the literary power of her
distinguished grandfather, and in 1868 published a “Life of Vittoria
Colonna,” with admirable translations of the sonnets. She was a strong,
vigorous character, devotedly attached to her son and proud of his
success in life. Her Manchester friends used playfully to refer to her
as “the Mother of Owens College,” and the allusion to her association
with its fortunes gave her pleasure. She was always deeply interested
in its progress and rejoiced in its success. She died at the age of
eighty-seven, falling “like autumn fruit that mellowed long.”
Young Roscoe went for a few years to a preparatory school in the
neighbourhood of his home. In 1842 his mother moved her small charges
to Liverpool, when he was sent to the High School of the Liverpool
Institute, among the earliest of the so-called “modern” schools. He
remained here seven years, taking the usual English subjects—mathematics,
French, a little Latin and less Greek, and some elementary physical
science. The school was furnished with a chemical laboratory—a very
unusual provision in those days—and in it he obtained his first lessons
in chemical manipulation from William H. Balmain, the discoverer of
“luminous paint” and of boron nitride. Balmain, who was one of the early
contributors to the then newly founded Chemical Society, in his published
account of the latter substance apologizes for his inability to state its
exact composition, as he was unable to obtain a better balance than such
as he could construct himself “of wood and paper”—a circumstance which
throws some light upon the means of instruction in the laboratory which
introduced Roscoe to the study of practical chemistry. He always had a
grateful recollection of his first instructor, whom he described as a
genial fellow, and a stimulating and original teacher. The boy also came
under the influence of Hugo Reid—a noteworthy man, and of some reputation
at the time as a writer and teacher of natural philosophy—and of W. B.
Hodgson, an excellent teacher of English, who afterwards became Professor
of Political Economy in the University of Edinburgh.
Years afterwards, when the “old boy” had become a person of some
consequence in the world, he was invited to distribute the prizes at his
school, and told his auditors, in the course of a short address, that he
had come across one of his school reports, addressed to his mother, in
which it was stated: “Roscoe is a nice boy, but he looks about him too
much, and does not know his irregular verbs.” He added that he thought
this early habit of looking about him, which had persistently clung to
him through life, had possibly done more for him than the irregular verbs.
Roscoe’s mother encouraged his inclination towards chemical pursuits by
providing him with a room at home in which he could make his experiments,
and such spare cash as he had was devoted to the purchase of chemicals
and apparatus. In this manner he early obtained familiarity with the
simpler operations of practical chemistry and laid the foundations of
that dexterity in manipulation which contributed so greatly to his
success as a lecturer.
Roscoe’s forbears on both sides were of Presbyterian or Unitarian stock,
and the household naturally moved mainly in Nonconformist circles.
These comprised some of the most respected and cultured families in
the district—the Booths, Yateses, Martineaus, Taylors, Sandbachs:
all well-known names in Lancashire—with some of whom his people were
connected by marriage.
In 1848 he was entered at University College, London, at that time the
only seat of higher learning and research in England open to men who were
refused admittance to the older Universities on denominational grounds.
Among the teachers in Gower Street at this period were De Morgan,
Francis Newman, Malden, Sharpey, Graham, Lindley, Williamson, Jenner, and
Liston. No more remarkable group was to be found in any institution for
higher education in England. Among Roscoe’s contemporaries as students
were Lister, Langton-Sandford, Farrer-Herschell, Bageot, Jessel, Richard
Hutton (who married as first and second wives two of his cousins), Osler,
Henry Thompson, and Edward Fry—all names afterwards distinguished in law,
literature, and medicine.
Of his teachers at this time, the one who had most influence in shaping
his career was undoubtedly Thomas Graham, the chemist. Graham had
been elected in 1837, largely through the action of Lord Brougham, as
successor to Edward Turner in what was then known as the University
of London, founded some nine years previously. Although nervous and
hesitating in manner, and with little fluency of speech, Graham was
a sound and suggestive teacher, whose lectures were characterized by
a philosophic method of exposition, and by accuracy and breadth of
knowledge. These were always carefully prepared and well illustrated by
experiments. The greater number in the class were, of course, medical
students, for in those days there were few followers of pure science, and
science faculties and degrees in science were unknown.
Roscoe, in entering Graham’s class-room, found himself, as he says, in
a new world. One indication of the eagerness with which he exploited it
may be gleaned from the circumstance that the enthusiastic young tyro
at the end of the session came out the head of the class and gained the
silver medal. His mother and sister soon followed him to town, and the
family lived first in Torrington Square and next in Camden Town, where
his cousin, Stanley Jevons, the economist, and afterwards one of his
colleagues at Owens College, came to reside with them. One of his uncles
was Mr. Justice Crompton, who had married into the Fletcher family, and
was a great friend of his father. The judge always took a strong paternal
interest in his nephew, and would have sent him to Cambridge had he been
disposed to go there. The Crompton cousins were, he says, like brothers
and sisters to him. It was in their drawing-room in Hyde Park Square that
he first met Miss Lucy Potter, his future wife, then a girl of seventeen.
Roscoe now elected to follow chemistry as a career, somewhat to the
dismay of his relatives, who, he tells us, imagined he intended “to
open a shop with red and blue glass bottles in the window,” such being
the external indications of the calling of a chemist in this country.
And no wonder they were perturbed, for any one not being registered as
a “pharmaceutical chemist,” or as a “chemist and druggist,” who should
presume to style himself a chemist was punishable with a fine. Liebig
was not altogether well informed of the facts when he wrote to Berzelius
that the English chemists were ashamed to call themselves such because
the apothecaries had appropriated the name. It was not so much that they
were ashamed as they were actually prohibited by law. Although nearly two
generations have passed since those days, it may be doubted whether even
now the public mind has quite grasped the distinction between a chemist
properly so-called and an apothecary.
Having settled upon his life’s work, Roscoe entered the Birkbeck
Laboratory at University College, then under the direction of Williamson,
whom Graham had just brought over from Paris, where he had been working
with Laurent and Gerhardt. Roscoe had the highest appreciation of the
genius and power of Williamson, and pays grateful homage to his memory in
the following extract from his Autobiography:
At the time I entered the laboratory Williamson was engaged
in the researches which have made his name a household word
to chemists all the world over. His was a mind of great
originality, and his personality was a most attractive one.
And, despite his physical disabilities—for he lost an eye and
the proper use of his left arm in early childhood—he was a
diligent and accurate worker. Ardently devoted to his science,
he infected all who worked under him with the same feeling.
And his pupils willingly own that much of the success that
they may have met with in after years was due to his teaching
and example. I well remember the feelings of interest he
aroused as he each day came down to the laboratory brimful
of new ideas. First it was his explanation of the theory of
etherification, of which he proved the truth by preparing the
mixed ethers, thereby ascertaining the general constitution of
alcohols and ethers, and laying one of the foundation-stones
of modern chemistry. Next it was his well-known paper on the
constitution of salts, in which he enunciated principles which
have since been generally adopted. Then came his views on
atomic motion and interchange, the first definite statement of
a series of chemical phenomena which in the hands of Van ’t
Hoff and others have become of the highest import.… He clearly
foresaw the principles upon which the modern development of
the steam-engine depends, and though he failed for want of
constructive skill, he pointed the way which engineers have
since followed with conspicuous success.
In his second year in the Birkbeck Laboratory Roscoe became Williamson’s
private assistant, and took part in his researches, and when Graham
accepted the Mastership of the Mint, and Williamson succeeded to
the chair at University College, Roscoe was made lecture assistant.
Williamson had the idea at that time of publishing an abridged
translation of Gerhardt’s _Chimie Organique_, for the benefit of English
students, which Roscoe was to prepare, but nothing came of the project.
Graham, who had been commissioned to send out an assayer to the Sydney
Mint, offered Roscoe the position. The salary was very tempting, but
as his mother and sister had no desire to go to Australia, the offer
was declined, and his cousin Stanley Jevons, who had passed through the
Birkbeck Laboratory, was sent in his stead.
It was in recognition of Roscoe’s association with Williamson that nearly
forty years afterwards he was deputed, on behalf of the subscribers, to
present the portrait of his master which now hangs in University College.
Roscoe took his degree of Bachelor of Arts in the University of London,
with Honours in chemistry, in 1853, and as he was now more than ever
determined to follow a career of science, he decided to enlarge his
experience by a course of study in a continental laboratory, as was then
the usual custom. Of the great leaders of British chemical science in
the first half of the nineteenth century—Dalton, Thomson, Davy, Faraday,
Graham—only Thomson and Graham, and to a limited extent Dalton, were in a
position to exert any influence as teachers, and even in their case there
was little provision of instruction in practical chemistry.
The older English universities had practically nothing of the kind; their
disciplines offered no encouragement to the study of chemical science.
The university which prides itself on having afforded a home to Boyle
extended no opportunity to a man to make any research unless he found his
own laboratory and apparatus. Dr. Liveing started the first laboratory
for students in Cambridge at his own expense in 1852, hiring a cottage
in the town for the purpose. On the other hand, at that time, thanks to
the influence of the French school of chemists; of Berzelius in Sweden;
Liebig, Wöhler, Mitscherlich, and the two Roses in Germany, systematic
instruction in chemistry was being actively pursued on the Continent,
and nearly every leading University abroad could show a more or less
well-equipped laboratory, and a body more or less large of eager and
enthusiastic investigators. Accordingly, at this period, aspirants for
chemical fame in this country naturally turned to one or other of the
chemical schools in France or Germany to seek there what they were unable
to find at home.
Roscoe elected to go to Bunsen, who had recently been called from
Breslau to Heidelberg in succession to Leopold Gmelin, the author of the
well-known “Handbuch.” Bunsen had already won for himself a European
reputation by his masterly investigation of the cacodyl compounds, by the
improvements he had effected in gasometric methods, by his investigations
on the chemistry of the blast-furnace, his invention of the carbon-zinc
battery and photometer, and his inquiries into the chemical aspects of
the volcanic and pseudo-volcanic phenomena of Iceland.
It is perhaps idle to speculate why Roscoe should have left Williamson at
the most fruitful period of his career, and when, under his stimulus,
organic chemistry was apparently about to enter upon a great development
in this country. But the probability is that then, as afterwards, the
problems of organic chemistry and the purely speculative aspects of the
science had few attractions for him, and that he saw in the many-sided
nature of Bunsen’s work, in its eminently practical character, and
the precision of its quantitative methods, much that appealed to his
inclination towards the operative, and especially the determinative side
of chemistry, for Bunsen was pre-eminently a master of manipulation, as
every one who aspired to a professional career in chemistry and who hoped
to direct a chemical laboratory fully recognized.
Roscoe, with his mother and sister, who elected to keep house for him,
reached Heidelberg in the autumn of 1853 with an introduction to von
Mohl, the Professor of International Law, with whose family they became
well acquainted. One of the daughters, Anna von Mohl, was the second wife
of Helmholtz. By von Mohl he was made known to Bunsen.
I shall never forget (says Roscoe in his Autobiography) my
first sight of him—the man who afterwards became one of my
dearest friends, and to whom I owe more than I can tell.… He
was then at the height of his mental and physical powers. He
stood fully six feet high, his manner was simple yet dignified,
and his expression one of rare intelligence and great kindness.
This first impression of his bearing and character only became
stronger as my knowledge of him increased, and the feelings
of respect and affection with which I regarded him were those
of all with whom he came in contact. His singular amiability
was not a sign of weakness, but of strength of character. His
modesty was natural and in no degree assumed. In his lectures,
when giving an account of some discovery he had made, or some
new apparatus or method of work which he had investigated, I
never heard him mention himself. It was always “man hat dies
gefunden,” or “es hat sich so herausgestellt.”
In the cloisters of the old monastery which then did duty as the
Heidelberg laboratory, Roscoe was first indoctrinated into the art and
mystery of quantitative chemical analysis, and he there acquired the
familiarity with Bunsen’s methods and with his system of laboratory
instruction that he was to turn to such signal account in the
establishment and direction of the Manchester school of chemistry.
Among his fellow-workers were Lothar Meyer, Pauli, Beilstein, Pebal,
Schischkoff (a Russian officer who investigated with Bunsen the course
of decomposition of fired gunpowder), Quincke, Bahr, Landolt, Baeyer,
Lourenço, and, amongst Englishmen, Russell, Atkinson, and Matthiessen—a
group of well-known names constituting a striking testimony to the
influence and power of attraction of the great German chemist.
One of Roscoe’s earliest quantitative exercises was in silicate analysis,
and his first published paper, which appeared in _Liebig’s Annalen_ for
1854, was a joint production with Schönfeld on the composition of certain
samples of gneiss.
At the close of his second session he passed his doctor’s examination
_summa cum laude_, and then embarked upon the well-known inquiry in
association with Bunsen on the measurement of the chemical action of
light, which occupied much of his time and energy during the next eight
years.
In the obituary notices he wrote for _Nature_ of August 31, 1899, and
for the _Proceedings_ of the Royal Society, and more especially in the
admirable Memorial Lecture which he gave to the Chemical Society,
Roscoe has done full justice to the memory of Bunsen as a great chemist,
pre-eminent as a discoverer and teacher, and lovable as a true and
noble-hearted man. The Memorial Lecture was reprinted in America by
the Smithsonian Institute, and translated into German to be prefixed
to the collection of Bunsen’s works published by the Society—the
Bunsen-Gesellschaft—founded in his honour. In course of their long and
uninterrupted friendship he received many letters from his illustrious
master. These, 126 in number, were suitably bound and presented by him to
the Bunsen Society.
Roscoe took advantage of the opportunity afforded by his residence in
Germany to study its university system, and to make himself familiar with
the general character of its working, and in his vacations he sought
the acquaintance of its leading men of science, with some of whom he
contracted lasting friendships. In his Autobiography, written in 1906, he
gives expression to the sentiments of respect and esteem with which he
regarded the Germany and his German friends of half a century ago:
My knowledge of the Germans and Germany has led me to love
the Fatherland, and, I venture to think, to understand as
well as to respect and admire the nation. As to any feelings
antagonistic to England and the English existing in the minds
of the many Germans with whom I became intimate, I never found
a trace, for Treitschke I did not know. All with whom I ever
came in contact expressed a feeling that England was the old
home of freedom, that she had led the van in securing that
freedom by gradual and peaceable measures, and, in short, that
the path in which the Englishman trod was that in which they
wished to follow. “We cannot,” my friends said to me, “express
our opinion on political matters with the freedom to which you
in England are accustomed. How indeed can this be otherwise,
when we are governed by an autocratic power which believes in
the divine right of kings, and have to submit to a condition of
things in which summary punishment for ‘Majestätsbeleidigung’
is possible?”
In the autumn of 1856 Roscoe returned to London, and with the help of
friends set up a private laboratory in Bedford Place, Russell Square,
with Wilhelm Dittmar to assist him in research work. He also obtained
employment as a science lecturer at an army school at Eltham, and did
some analytical work on ventilation for a Departmental Committee, the
results of which were published in a Blue-book, and also in the _Journal
of the Chemical Society_.[2]
The London venture was very short-lived, for in the following year
Frankland, the first Professor of Chemistry in the recently founded
Owens College, Manchester, resigned his appointment, and Roscoe, who was
able to produce satisfactory testimonials from Bunsen, Liebig, Graham,
Williamson, and others, offered himself as a candidate for the vacant
chair and was appointed.
CHAPTER III
OWENS COLLEGE, MANCHESTER
Owens College had its origin in a bequest of John Owens, a merchant of
Manchester, who left the bulk of his fortune to trustees to found a
collegiate institution in Manchester, open to persons of every variety
of creed and free from every religious test. He was born in 1790, the
son of Owen Owens, a Flintshire man, who settled in Manchester in early
life and established a small business as a hat-lining cutter and furrier.
Some time after 1815 Owen Owens took his son into partnership, when the
firm extended the scope of their business and became general merchants,
shipping calicoes and coarse woollens to China, India, South America, and
New York, and importing hides, wheat, and other produce in return.
John Owens was described as possessing a good deal of hard-headedness and
practical common sense, a keen buyer and a good payer, very methodical
in his habits and operations, and who acted up to his favourite motto,
_Honestas optima politia_. He was a staunch Dissenter and a “stalwart”
Radical, a shy, silent man, known only to a few intimates, a misogamist,
if not actually a misogynist, of no great intellectual ability, and
with few cultured tastes, nor, so far as can be gathered, particularly
friendly to learning. There is reason to believe that his first intention
was to leave the greater part of his fortune to his lifelong friend
and former schoolfellow, George Faulkner, a well-known and prosperous
Manchester merchant, who in declining it appears to have suggested the
idea of founding a college in Manchester. The suggestion took root.
In developing it Owens seems to have been mainly moved by a feeling
of bitterness against a system which imposed subscription to articles
and creeds on a young man before he could be admitted to the ancient
Universities.
He was determined to break down this injustice so far as he was
able; he therefore made the trust subject to “the fundamental
and immutable rule and condition … that the students,
professors, teachers, and other officers and persons connected
with the said institution shall not be required to make any
declaration as to, or submit to any test whatsoever of, their
religious opinions, and that nothing shall be introduced in
the matter or mode of education or instruction in reference to
any religious or theological subject which shall be reasonably
offensive to the conscience of any student, or of his
relations, guardians, or friends, under whose immediate care he
shall be.”[3]
John Owens died, unmarried, in July 1846, at the age of fifty-five. Mr.
George Faulkner, who had been named as one of the executors, proceeded
to carry out the provisions of the will. The estate took some years
to realize, and the accounts were not finally closed until 1857, when
the total sum received for the purposes of the college amounted to
£96,942—not a very large amount considered as endowment, but still
sufficient, viewed from the standpoint of the middle of last century,
to enable a modest start to be made, with prudent management on the part
of the trustees, and a reasonable amount of sympathy and goodwill on the
part of the community that was to be benefited.
The executors, without waiting for the complete realization of the
estate, proceeded to execute the provisions of the bequest as regards
the projected college. In the selection of the trustees appointed to
carry out his intentions John Owens acted with sound judgment and a wise
liberality. It is evident from the terms of the will that he had given
considerable thought to the character of the institution he wished to
found. But in spite of all his care and of the legal skill with which
his wishes were expressed, the theological difficulty managed to creep
in, and ingenious casuists raised doubts and differences of opinion
concerning the interpretation of the testator’s will in regard to
religious instruction. This occasioned delay, and a certain amount of
sectarian jealousy and unfriendly feeling was stirred up which acted
prejudicially against the new institution for some years after its
establishment.
The College was formally opened in March 1851. Its first Principal was
Mr. A. J. Scott, who was Professor of English Literature in University
College when Roscoe studied there. In addition to being Principal he was
appointed Professor of Logic, Mental and Moral Philosophy, and English
Language and Literature. The circumstance that he undertook, with the
consent of the trustees, to give courses of lectures on “The Influence
of Religion in Relation to the Life of the Scholar,” was one cause of
the hubbub which was raised in the town and which brought the Church
party to the support of the trustees who had sanctioned these courses.
Other teachers were Mr. J. G. Greenwood, Professor of the Language and
Literature of Greece and Rome; Mr. Archibald Sandeman, Professor of
Mathematics; Dr. Edward Frankland, Professor of Chemistry; Mr. W. C.
Williamson, Professor of Natural History, Botany, and Geology; Mr. T.
Theodores, teacher of German, Hebrew, and Oriental languages; and M.
Podevin, teacher of French.
The College was located in what had been a private house, formerly the
residence of Richard Cobden, and situated in a dreary and somewhat
disreputable neighbourhood in the vicinity of Deansgate, one of the main
thoroughfares of the poorer quarters of the city. This building was
purchased from Mr. Cobden by Mr. George Faulkner, the chairman of the
trustees, and was subsequently conveyed by him to the other trustees as
an absolute donation for the benefit of the College. As it was unsuited
for the provision of a chemical laboratory, the trustees determined to
erect at the rear of the house a building specially designed for the
purpose; but as they were precluded from using any of the corpus of
the estate for building, they raised a sum of nearly £10,000 for the
installation of a chemical laboratory and lecture theatre, the formation
of a library and for general purposes. The chemical laboratory, which was
planned under the direction of Dr. Frankland, could accommodate about
fifty workers; it was conveniently arranged, and was indeed one of the
best of its kind at the period of its erection.
The College made a fairly auspicious start as regards numbers, but for
various reasons such popularity as it had rapidly declined, and each
succeeding session saw a diminished entry. At the time Roscoe joined the
students numbered only thirty-five, of whom fifteen were working in the
chemical department.
We gather from the reports of the professors to the trustees that
many causes contributed to retard the progress of the institution.
Curiously enough, one of the chief of these was what was subsequently
considered the chief glory of the foundation, namely, its unsectarian
character. But another and more practical reason was that the generally
unsatisfactory character of the school work of the students prevented
them from obtaining full advantage of the College courses. In fact, the
training afforded by the College was beyond the desires of the people.
Higher education was not considered by Manchester as requisite for the
accumulation of wealth. In those days lack of education had little or no
effect on the social position of its moneyed men. They were inclined to
think that a highly educated youth was unfitted for the routine work of
a counting-house and was of little use as a salesman on the floor of the
Exchange.
But there were doubtless other causes of a different nature. It was
unfortunate for the College that the days of its infancy should be cast
in the troubled times of the Crimean War and the Indian Mutiny—events
which dislocated trade and affected the prosperity of the district.
It was significant of what the town thought of the financial outlook of
the College that the new professor should be refused the tenancy of a
house when the landlord learned that he was one of its staff.
Its ill-success was the subject of leading articles in the local press.
The _Manchester Guardian_ of July 9, 1858, wrote: “Explain it as we
may, the fact is certain that this College, which eight years ago it
was hoped would form the nucleus of a Manchester university, is a
mortifying failure.” And Professor Roscoe was blamed for not awarding
the Dalton scholarship because he had the hardihood to say that none of
the laboratory students was sufficiently qualified to be worthy of it.
The _Manchester Examiner_ was somewhat more appreciative of the efforts
of the little band who were gallantly striving to raise the very low
standard of middle-class education in Manchester at that time.
We are compelled (it said) to look for the causes of
non-success elsewhere than in the collegiate machinery. If an
objection can be raised against the College at all, it is that
such an institution is either in advance of our felt wants, or
altogether unsuited to the economical conditions of Manchester
life. Still, this is the fault of the community, not of the
College. The worst that can be said of it is that it is too
good for us.
This might certainly be said, in a certain sense, of the first Principal
of the College. Excellent in many respects as a man, and inspiring as
a teacher, he was altogether unfitted to direct the development of the
young and struggling institution in such a community and at such a time.
Principal Scott, whom Mrs. Oliphant described as “a man whose powerful,
wilful, and fastidious mind has produced upon all other capable minds
an impression of force and ability which no practical result has
yet adequately carried out,” had little constructive or directive
power. Earnest, upright, and conscientious, he was essentially an
idealist—almost a visionary—a man of words—forceful and even eloquent
at times—but with no capacity for action. As a thinker he lived a
strenuous and exhaustive life. Although only forty-six at the date of his
appointment, his constitution, never very robust, was already undermined
and his nervous energy impaired. He was frequently ill, and his repeated
absences from the College necessarily interfered with his administrative
work. After struggling for six years with the duties and responsibilities
of a position for which circumstances and the times in nowise fitted
him, he tendered his resignation as Principal a few months before Roscoe
was appointed to the chair of Chemistry and was succeeded by Professor
Greenwood.
The public criticism to which the College was subjected was not
altogether without a salutary effect on its policy. It must be remembered
that it was the first attempt of the kind to bring the higher training,
and something of the spirit of collegiate life, directly within the reach
of the middle-class youth of a great business community, and it was
necessary to have some regard to the conditions of the district and its
special requirements and, it may be added, even its peculiar prejudices.
Roscoe’s antecedents, his associations with Lancashire, and his knowledge
of and sympathy with what is strongest and best in the Lancashire
character, made him quick to realize the factors upon which the ultimate
success of the institution depended. It was no use for it to set
itself athwart the economical conditions of the community. Young as he
was—he was then twenty-four—he was perhaps more alive to the practical
necessities of the position than the majority of his colleagues.
He quickly revealed himself as the man of the hour. His accession to the
College at this crisis was the turning-point in its career. He brought
new vigour and a fresh spirit into its policy, and from that time forward
its fortunes began steadily to mend.
As regards his own department, it was his ambition to establish at Owens
College a school of chemistry which should worthily serve the interests
of the great manufacturing district of South Lancashire—the largest and
most important seat of chemical industry in the kingdom. Associated
with him in this effort, he had as assistants Frederick Guthrie, who,
on his appointment to the chair of Chemistry at the Royal College in
Mauritius, was succeeded by Dittmar, and afterwards by Schorlemmer—all
men of originality and admirable teachers. Schorlemmer spent the greater
part of his life in Manchester, and died in the service of the College,
latterly as Professor of Organic Chemistry—the first to be so designated
in the kingdom. His connection with the institution is commemorated by
the association of his name with one of the chemical laboratories of the
Victoria University. His co-operation with Roscoe in the production of
the well-known treatise which bears their joint names will be referred to
later.
Roscoe from the outset threw himself heartily into the educational and
scientific activities of the community in which he was to make his
home for the next thirty years. He joined the Philosophical Society
of Manchester—so honourably associated with the name and fame of
Dalton. Founded in 1781, the Society has played a worthy part in the
intellectual life of Manchester. In the second year of its existence one
of its members—the Rev. Dr. Barnes—drew up “proposals for establishing
in Manchester a plan of liberal education for young men designed for
civil and active life, whether in trade or in any of the professions,”
which may be said to have anticipated the foundation of Owens College.
The management was to be free from sectarian exclusiveness. “A plan
formed for public utility should be generous and enlarged, so as to
extend itself as widely as possible for the common interest. Science and
arts are of no political or religious party.” These liberal sentiments
commended themselves to the Society, who ordered that the paper should
“be printed and offered to the consideration of the public.” The seed
fell on stony ground at the time and made only a feeble attempt to
germinate; two generations had to come and go before it definitely took
root.
Roscoe quickly acquired an influential position in the Philosophical
Society. He served for many years as its secretary, and ultimately became
its president. He was the first recipient of its Dalton medal, awarded
to him in recognition of his efforts to throw light upon the reasoning
which led Dalton to the formulation of his great generalization, by
the publication in association with his friend and former pupil, Dr.
Harden, of “A New View of the Origin of Dalton’s Atomic Theory” (London:
Macmillan & Co., Ltd.), based upon Dalton’s manuscripts and laboratory
note-books in the possession of the Society. The book will be referred to
at greater length when considering Roscoe’s contributions in general to
the literature of chemistry.
In the Society at the time Roscoe joined it were several men of
scientific eminence, or who played notable parts in the industrial life
of the district—among them Joule, Schunck, Fairbairn, W. C. Williamson,
Angus Smith, and Crace Calvert. Joule, a pupil of Dalton, a shy, retiring
man, was several times President of the Society, and Roscoe, who greatly
admired his character and powers as an original thinker, became one of
his most intimate friends. In the later years of his life Joule, who was
a member of a brewing firm at Stone in Staffordshire, suffered great
reverses of fortune, and was only saved from actual poverty by the grant
of a Civil List pension, which Roscoe, with the help of Tyndall, Huxley,
and other friends of science, was instrumental in obtaining. A letter
which Roscoe wrote to the _Times_ resulted in the creation of the Joule
Memorial Fund, administered by the Royal Society. It takes the form of an
international studentship or grant to assist research in those branches
of physical science more immediately connected with Joule’s work. With
the assistance of Lord Kelvin, he secured the placing of a tablet to
Joule’s memory in Westminster Abbey.
In the vestibule of the Manchester Town Hall a life-size marble statue
by Gilbert of the discoverer of the Law of the Conservation of Energy
stands opposite to a statue of the author of the Atomic Theory. It was
unveiled in 1893 by Joule’s most intimate scientific friend, Lord Kelvin.
Concerning this unveiling, Roscoe could occasionally be induced to tell
a story. In proposing a vote of thanks to Lord Kelvin, he stated that
one inducement that drew him to Manchester was that he might sit at the
feet of Joule, whose name was as well known on the Continent as that of
Newton, but he found that all that the Manchester of that day knew of
Joule was his Stone Ales. One of his lady auditors, in complimenting him
upon his little speech, observed: “Of course I quite understood your
remark about sitting at Dr. Joule’s feet, but why make allusion to his
_toe-nails_!”
The visit of the British Association to Manchester in 1861, when Roscoe
served as one of the local secretaries, afforded him an excellent
opportunity of showing his organizing powers and business aptitudes.
These were still further demonstrated in the winter of 1862, during
the memorable cotton famine in Lancashire, when he acted as one of the
secretaries to a committee created to provide some form of intellectual
occupation for the thousands of operatives thrown out of employment by
the stoppage of the staple industry of the district. He gave lectures,
illustrated by experiments, on subjects likely to attract a working-class
audience. These were highly popular, and undoubtedly awakened a general
interest in scientific matters in quarters which knew nothing of science.
Their success encouraged him to institute the series of Science Lectures
for the People, which he began in 1866, and carried on for eleven
consecutive winters. In this movement he secured the co-operation,
amongst others, of Huxley, Carpenter, Tyndall, Huggins, Lord Avebury,
Abel, Stanley Jevons, Clifford, and Spottiswoode. The lectures were given
in some of the largest public halls in the city, and were attended by
thousands. They were published week by week as delivered, and were sold
for a penny all over the world.
In 1874 the writer, then recently appointed to the newly founded
Yorkshire College at Leeds, had the privilege of taking part in these
courses, when he undertook to give some account of the life and work of
Joseph Priestley, the chemist, who, as already stated, was a colleague of
Dr. Enfield at the Warrington Academy.
Mrs. Roscoe, the mother of the subject of this memoir, then an old lady
of seventy-six, who had shown the writer many kindnesses during his
student-days at Owens College, was pleased to interest herself in this
lecture and, unsolicited, to write the following characteristic and
charming little sketch of Priestley and his wife as a contribution to the
subject.
10 YORK PLACE, OXFORD ROAD,
_November 12_ [1874].
MY DEAR PROFESSOR,
I have a few particulars at your service for your lecture on
Priestley if you intend to sketch his character, which was a
fine example for working-men. I should be glad to send you the
papers if you will return them. You of course have Huxley’s
enlarged notice in the _Contemporary_, which is very good and
full.
His poverty, energy, and extreme industry raised him from the
humblest condition. His first place of Christian ministry for
three years was at a small chapel at Needham, and his stipend
only £30 a year, to which he added a small school. Here he
bought a pair of globes (made by John Senex, F.R.S.). When he
removed to Nantwich, where he was minister for three years,
he took the globes with him, and also kept a small school.
There he bought a small air-pump and an electrical machine
and a few books, going on with preaching, teaching schools,
and learning himself. He says: “I was barely able, with the
greatest economy, to keep out of debt—but this I always made a
point of.” (The globes and the first electrical machine belong
to friends of mine.—M. R.)
In 1761 he removed to Warrington, where he remained six
years, connected with the Academy there. Here he married his
wife—a most admirable woman—who excelled so greatly in ruling
the home that “it allowed him to give his whole time to the
prosecution of his studies and other duties.” Her behaviour
during the Persecution and Emigration to America was above all
praise. She said of herself: “There is something inherent in me
which always makes me swim to the top of affliction, so that
I am ready to pop out to the first friendly hand that offers
assistance—otherwise I am surprised at myself that I have borne
it so well, and greatly rejoiced that Dr. Priestley has kept up
under all the malignity that attended the riots. Our property
may be said to be entirely destroyed, the few remains that have
been picked up so demolished as to be of little value.” The
loss of books, MSS., and instruments was valued at £10,000.
There is an interesting chapter on visiting Priestley’s grave
in Harriet Martineau’s “Retrospect of Western Travel,” vol.
i. pp. 175-90. Also a poetical account of the uses of oxygen
by George Dawson of Birmingham, which I cut out for you. The
list of all Priestley’s works and portraits, medallions and
engravings, as well as remains of other kinds, is given by Rev.
James Yates, and appended to the Life of Priestley by Hutt.
Priestley was driven from England in 1794, and Lavoisier was
guillotined in the same year at Paris after confiscation of all
his property; and it was in 1874 that Birmingham was “made to
eat humble-pie” by erecting a statue to Priestley’s memory on
the centenary of his great discovery.
I hope you have made a good beginning at Leeds and will
nevertheless not be too busy to read this note and to excuse my
troubling you.
Very truly yours,
MARIA ROSCOE.
Of the stimulating influence of these Penny Lectures Roscoe received
abundant testimony: in after-life he frequently met persons, some
occupying a high and responsible position in commerce and industry, who
informed him that they were indebted to them for their first interest in
science. One such person was the late Mr. Thomas Parker, a self-made man,
and founder of the well-known electrical firm of Elwell-Parker.
Services such as these, combined with Roscoe’s growing popularity
and influence, necessarily reacted favourably upon the fortunes of
the College, and it steadily grew in favour. The chemical department
especially increased in numbers, and the laboratory soon became
inadequate to accommodate the students, who came to it from all parts of
England, attracted by its fame as a chemical school.
The prospects of the College were now so well assured that in 1865 the
governing body and the professors began to consider the desirability of
extending its scheme of studies, and, what at the moment was even more
urgent, providing new and greatly increased accommodation. Owing to the
adverse state of trade at the time, no immediate steps were possible; but
in 1867 a town’s meeting resolved “That the time had come for the public
of the district to unite for the purpose of developing the College on a
more comprehensive scale, and in appropriate and convenient buildings.”
An executive committee, on which Roscoe was placed, was appointed to
carry out this and certain consequential resolutions. He was also
required to serve on various sub-committees, dealing with the new site,
buildings, extension and rearrangement of courses of study. It says
much for the influence and weight he had now acquired in the counsels of
the College, and for the confidence reposed in his judgment and business
capacity, that no other member of the staff was called upon to take so
large and so responsible a share in the extension movement.
The new Constitution as settled by the extension committee, to the
extent that it modified or enlarged the original scheme of the founder,
necessitated an application for a Bill in Parliament. The action of
the Governing Body in enlarging the scope of the College was generally
approved and was warmly supported, amongst others by Mr. Freeman the
historian. He considered that the members of the two ancient Universities
ought to feel, and he was sure that they largely did feel, a special
sympathy in the planting of an institution like Owens College in such a
city as Manchester.
It was called a college, but it had really much more of the
character of a university; and it was as a new university in
Manchester that he was ready and delighted to welcome it.
It was a great and noble work which had been begun in their
city.… He looked then upon Owens College as a university rising
in a great city; neither did he look on a great city as an
unfitting place for a great university. As a rule, the ancient
universities of Europe had arisen in great cities. Owens
College, unlike most modern institutions, did not begin with
a building. Here was a college which had been at work for a
good many years, and the common academical buildings were only
now being planned. This was just as it should be; at any rate
it was just in the spirit of the old founders. They got their
men first, and let the buildings come afterwards. If Owens
College had hitherto to do with makeshift buildings, it was
just what the old colleges of Oxford did for a while, and in
both cases for the same reason, because the college itself, the
living members of the college, came first in the ideas of the
founders, and the material house existed for their sake only.
The draft of the new Constitution was prepared, under the direction of a
sub-committee, by Mr. James Bryce, now Lord Bryce, then Regius Professor
of Civil Law at Oxford, and formerly Professor of Jurisprudence and
Law at Owens College. A Bill was next drafted to enable the College to
procure modifications of certain features of John Owens’s foundation,
and Roscoe was requested to sign as one of the promoters of the petition
for the Owens College, Manchester, Bill, 1870. This Bill met with a
certain amount of parliamentary opposition, mainly in the House of Lords,
where it was first introduced. It was alleged that it was a Bill for
incorporating a non-existent charity, enabling it to annex the property
of another charity and to set aside to a great extent the expressed
intention of the founder. Objections also were raised in Manchester
itself by the executor of the late chairman of trustees, on the ground
that it was proposed to include females as students of the College. The
promoters met both the parliamentary and local opposition with skill and
judgment. The Lords passed the second reading by a majority of nearly
six to one, and as no petitions were lodged against it after lying on
the table for forty days, it was read a third time and passed. In the
Commons the Bill was read a first and second time without opposition.
A difficulty was threatened in Committee in regard to the inclusion of
the words, “A college wherein young persons, including if and when the
proper authorities of the College so direct, persons of the female sex,
may receive instruction.” This was stayed by the promoters agreeing to
accept in lieu the words “such young persons as the proper authorities
of the College may from time to time direct”—a sapient amendment which
made little or no essential difference when the inclusion of women came
to be dealt with as a practical question. The Owens College Extension Act
received the royal assent in July 1870.
The foundation-stone of the first block of the new buildings was laid
by the Duke of Devonshire, the first President of the Owens College, on
September 23, 1870. The design of the chemical laboratories was wholly
inspired by Roscoe, after a careful examination of every continental
example that might furnish suggestions concerning internal arrangements
and fittings, the details being admirably carried out by the late Mr.
Alfred Waterhouse, R.A. It is not too much to say that these laboratories
have served as models for practically every chemical laboratory which has
been subsequently built in this country or abroad.
Roscoe’s interest in the new buildings was not by any means exclusively
confined to his own department. As a member of the building committee he
took an active and leading part in its work generally. The position he
thus acquired may be illustrated by the following story. When Principal
Greenwood was asked how many master-keys would be needed by the staff,
he replied: “Three: one for me because I’m Principal; one for Ward as
Pro-Principal, and one for Roscoe because he is Roscoe.”
The actual incorporation of John Owens’s trust within the scheme of
the extended College could only be effected with the sanction of the
Charity Commissioners. There was no difficulty in the trustees of the
original College and the governors of the enlarged institution coming
to an agreement. The difficulty was raised by the Charitable Trusts
Commissioners, and it again arose on the question of the “eternal
feminine,” the inclusion of women being held to be a departure from the
expressed objects of Owens’s foundation. After a lengthy correspondence
this and certain other points raised by the Commissioners were adjusted,
when a Confirming Bill was introduced into Parliament; it passed through
both Houses and received the royal assent in July 1871.
The Owens College was now free to develop towards that consummation to
which all friends of education desired it should proceed.
It had gradually enlarged the scheme of its studies so as to include
nearly every department of learning, other than theology, professed at
the older universities. It was inevitable therefore that sooner or later
it should seek for university powers. That this was to be its goal was
clearly foreseen by all who were actively engaged in its extension. The
main difference of opinion was as to whether the time was opportune. Many
distinguished friends of the College, who had watched its development,
were of opinion in the late ’seventies that it had already attained a
university position, and that steps should then be taken to make it the
university of Manchester.
The idea of a Manchester university was not by any means new. It was as
old, indeed, as 1640, when Henry Fairfax, Rector of Ashton-under-Lyne,
moved his brother, the second Lord Fairfax, to petition the Long
Parliament
“for an university to be erected at Manchester, as the want of
an university in the northern parts of this kingdom, both in
this and former ages, hath been apprehended a great prejudice
to the kingdom in general, but a greater misery and unhappiness
to these countries in particular, many ripe and hopeful wits
being utterly lost for want of education, some being unable,
others unwilling, to commit their children of tender and
unsettled age so far from their own eyes, to the sole care and
tuition of strangers.”
Lord Fairfax replied that this could not be done except by a Bill in
Parliament, “which will be a charge of one hundred marks at least [£66
13s. 4d.], too much to be hazarded on so great an uncertainty.”
The successive stages in the growth of this conception are given in Mr.
Joseph Thompson’s “History of Owens College.” These can only be shortly
indicated here.
The establishment of a university at Manchester was boldly advocated in
1829 by Mr. W. R. Whatton, who contemplated the alteration and extension
of the plan of the existing Royal Institution for the purpose, and drew
up a scheme of higher education on a wide and liberal basis. Mr. Whatton
combated the objections which were raised with considerable skill, but
the “religious difficulty” got mixed up with the controversy: it proved
insurmountable and nothing came of the project. In 1836, Mr. H. L. Jones
read a paper before the Manchester Statistical Society on a plan of a
university for the town of Manchester, which was subsequently published
in pamphlet form at the expense of the late Mr. James Heywood, F.R.S.,
a well-known Manchester worthy. Mr. Jones, who was a member of the
University of Cambridge, was a strong advocate of university reform
and of the principle of introducing university culture into the larger
industrial centres, in a form suited to the intellectual needs of modern
life. An attempt was made to put the scheme into effect, but it died of
inanition in a few months. It is, however, interesting to note that many
details of Mr. Jones’s plan foreshadowed what were subsequently adopted
in the arrangements of John Owens’s foundation. Naturally the idea
eventually centred itself in this institution. The language of the local
newspaper Press in the early days of the College, even when its fortunes
were at their lowest ebb, clearly indicates what was the hope and
aspiration of the more public-spirited and thoughtful of the community.
As the College grew and prospered, their hope was strengthened and their
aspiration encouraged by friends of education from the older universities
like Freeman the historian, by men of science like Lord Kelvin, Huxley,
and Brodie, and by public men like Lord Bryce and the late Lord Avebury.
With the provision of new buildings, spacious class-rooms and admirable
laboratories, designed by an artist who has left the impress of his
genius upon some of the most noteworthy architectural features of the
city, Manchester now realized that it possessed a temple of learning of
which it might well be proud. And there can be little doubt that this
fact quickened the local feeling in favour of the realization of that
hope which, however faint at times, had persisted, in spite of many
disappointments, for more than two hundred years. A few months after
the College had been installed in its new premises, Roscoe and his
colleagues, Professor Ward—now Sir A. W. Ward, the Master of Peterhouse,
Cambridge—who was then Professor of History in Manchester, Principal
Greenwood, and Professor Morgan, took the first effective steps towards
this consummation. The historian of Owens College thus testifies to their
action:
It is to the zeal and untiring devotion of these four
gentlemen (wrote Mr. Joseph Thompson) that Manchester owes its
university; others cordially supported the movement, but they,
through five weary years, placed their case before the public,
removed prejudices, advanced good arguments, and lived down
opposition.
Roscoe has himself told the story of how he attempted to move Lancashire
through the local Press, and strove to create a public opinion in
favour of the project, for, as he clearly recognized, without public
support nothing could be accomplished. He sought to show how the
establishment of a new university in the North would benefit the great
middle classes of the community in which it was placed, and what its
influence might be expected to be upon the great hives of industry in
the most densely populated districts of the kingdom. It was, he said,
to be “The University of the Busy,” as distinguished from the old
universities of Oxford and Cambridge—“The Universities of the Wealthy.”
He pointed to the existence of the Scottish universities, and explained
what their influence had been for generations back on the middle and
poorer classes of their country. Was not Lancashire, with its many
populous manufacturing towns, as fully entitled to the advantages of
a university as the cities over the Border? The time had passed for
imagining that Oxford and Cambridge, rich and powerful though they
were, could do all that England legitimately required in the way of the
highest academic culture. Where was the evidence that the establishment
of provincial universities would lower the tone of higher education, or
that the creation of new avenues to degrees would injuriously affect the
reputation of those symbols of culture? That “many ripe and hopeful wits”
among the youth of Manchester were well qualified for and desirous of
receiving university training, but who, for a variety of reasons, could
not go to the older universities, was no less true now than in Cromwell’s
time. Moreover, it must be admitted, there is a great deal in the _genius
loci_. That spirit had succeeded in developing John Owens’s foundation
into a splendid institution suited to the local life and requirements.
They in Manchester knew what the busy North wanted, but they were not
quite so sure that the Dons of Oxford and Cambridge knew it as well
as they themselves did. They asked to be allowed to work out their
own salvation in their own way. They were already to all intents and
purposes a university; their students were university students in age and
education, and their courses of instruction were fully up to university
standard, and their yearly entry would compare not unfavourably with that
of many universities in our own and other countries.
Other arguments were adduced, possible objections were anticipated
and met, and a strong case was established. The senate, however, moved
cautiously. They proceeded to collect and circulate opinions on the
propriety of seeking a university charter, and eventually the matter
was brought before the court of governors, who appointed a special
committee, on which Roscoe was placed, to consider and report upon the
whole subject. A considerable number of persons, heads of colleges,
university teachers, and others eminent in the educational world, or who
had identified themselves with educational movements, were consulted,
and with the consent of the writers their replies were collected and
distributed to the leading newspapers and journals with a view to elicit
public opinion. An analysis of the general feeling so far as it could
be ascertained from newspaper and other criticism was made by Roscoe in
concert with Principal Greenwood and Professor Ward, and laid before the
special committee. The _Liverpool Daily Post_ was adverse to the project,
for reasons which will appear subsequently. The late Lord Sherbrooke,
who, as the Rt. Hon. Robert Lowe, at that time represented the University
of London, was equally condemnatory in the pages of the _Fortnightly
Review_. But the preponderating opinion was undoubtedly favourable.
The committee reported, some six months after its appointment, to a
special meeting of the governors, when it was resolved, with practical
unanimity, that it was expedient to take such steps as might be
calculated to promote the success of the proposal to seek for the Owens
College a charter as a university granting degrees. A memorial was
presented to the Privy Council through the Lord President of the Council
(the Duke of Richmond and Gordon), praying for the grant of a charter to
the College conferring upon it the rank of a university, to be called the
University of Manchester, with power to grant degrees in arts, science,
medicine, and law. The memorial was influentially supported by eminent
men, who recapitulated the arguments which had led the governors to their
decision; it was further supported by memorials from the corporations of
the chief towns of Lancashire (Liverpool excepted), and from a number of
public bodies and educational institutions in the county.
The very success of Owens College as an educational agency in the town
and district in which it was situated was, for the moment, the cause
of opposition to its attempt to obtain for itself university powers.
Other towns, conscious of the benefit of such institutions, were seeking
to establish colleges of the type of Owens College, and which it was
hoped might ultimately develop into universities. Leeds had founded the
Yorkshire College in 1874. Originally started as a science college, and
with special reference to the educational requirements of the industries
of the district, its scope had been rapidly enlarged so as to include
arts and languages. It had already established relations with the local
medical school, and its development as a college was not very dissimilar
from that of Owens prior to the extension movement. At that time it had
upwards of four hundred students—registered occasional, medical, and
evening—with some eighteen professors, instructors, and assistants, and
an income from fees of about £1,500. The governing body of the Yorkshire
College, and others interested in its progress, therefore viewed with
some apprehension the establishment of a degree-granting body so close to
its own area. The majority were not opposed to the creation of another
university in the north of England, provided that the interests of their
own college were safe-guarded. They desired that the charter of the
contemplated university might be so modified as to admit of the inclusion
of other institutions of collegiate rank which might be able to fulfil
the conditions of incorporation as constituent colleges with a definite
share in its government. This, indeed, was actually contemplated by the
promoters of the Manchester University, but the terms of incorporation
were, in the opinion of Yorkshire, not sufficiently well defined, and
there were other conditions which failed to satisfy local aspirations.
The friends of the young College were keen and active; the Leeds Press
took up their cause, and public opinion in the district set strongly in
their favour.
As the action of the neighbouring county was successful in effecting
certain fundamental modifications in the Constitution of the proposed new
University, it may be desirable to give some account of the origin and
growth of the Yorkshire College up to the period with which we are now
concerned, and to point out the reasons which seemed to its friends to
justify their efforts to safeguard its position in the interests of the
higher education of an industrial community hardly less populous than
that of Manchester and its immediate vicinity.
CHAPTER IV
THE YORKSHIRE COLLEGE
The Yorkshire College of Science, as it was first styled, had its origin
in the general movement towards a fuller recognition of the duty of the
community in regard to national education, of which the Education Act of
1870, the Technical Instruction Act of 1889, and the more comprehensive
Education Act of 1902 were at once the signs and the practical outcome.
The immediate cause of the creation of the College may, however, be said
to have been found in the Paris Universal Exhibition of 1867. One of
the reporters of that exhibition was a well-known Leeds merchant, the
late Mr. Thomas Nussey. In a report in vol. iii of the General Reports,
Mr. Nussey drew attention to the great advance that had been made since
the London Exhibition of 1862 in the quality, style, and cheapness of
production of the foreign exhibits. Whilst he was of opinion that Great
Britain might still be said to maintain its pre-eminent position in the
woollen industry, Leeds and the West Riding generally had failed in many
classes to make the best use of their opportunities. He proceeded to
point out to what in his judgment the great advance in the character of
the continental production was due. He says:
There can be no doubt that the French, Belgian, and Prussian
manufacturers are greatly indebted for their progress in this
and many other industries to the very superior technical
education which their manufacturers and workmen obtain by means
of the schools instituted for special instruction, not only
in design, but in everything which has any relation to each
particular manufacture. Without education we cannot expect
to have skilled workmen of the highest class, and to a fair
general education must be added a special training under good
masters in every branch of trade. The adoption of similar
schools in Britain will before long become a necessity, and the
sooner they are established the better.
Prompt effect to these opinions was given by two other members of the
same family in a pamphlet, published in Leeds, entitled: “A Technical
Institution for Leeds and District, proposed by George Henry Nussey and
Arthur Nussey. Leeds: Edward Baines and Sons, 1867.” This institution was
avowedly designed to serve the interests of the staple industries of the
West Riding. Its projectors formulated a scheme of technical education
which should in the first place combine the existing School of Art with a
School of Weaving and Design, and should afford instruction in mechanical
engineering; in the manufacture and dyeing of woollen and worsted goods;
in weaving and designing; in the manufacture of linens, and of leather;
in mining, metallurgy, and building construction. Two years later they
sought to give a practical development of their ideas by establishing
“The Leeds Art and Science Institute” in connection with the Science
and Art Department, South Kensington. Six teachers and assistants were
engaged and the classes were held in the evenings.
Other agencies, however, were at work tending to the same end. There
is a small social organization in Leeds which has existed since 1849,
known as the Conversation Club, and which, with less ambitious aims, has
played much the same part in the intellectual life of the town that the
famous Lunar Society did in that of Birmingham. In this club the idea of
an Educational Council for Leeds took its rise, and out of this grew the
Yorkshire Board of Education, of which Lord Frederick Cavendish, M.P.,
was President, and Sir Andrew Fairbairn, and Dr. J. D. Heaton, an active
member of the Conversation Club and of the Educational Council, were
Vice-Presidents.
The work of the Board up to the period of which we write had been mainly
concerned with the provision of science classes and science teachers, in
connection with mechanics’ institutions working in conjunction with the
Science and Art Department.
In 1869 a meeting of the General Council of the Yorkshire Board of
Education was held at the Town Hall, Leeds, with Lord Frederick Cavendish
in the chair. It was attended by representatives of the more important
industries in Yorkshire, as well as by persons interested in higher
education. A resolution was carried “That in the opinion of this Council
it is desirable that a College of Science should be established in
Yorkshire”; and a committee was appointed “to investigate, consider, and
propose the best means of carrying out the proposal.” Members of this
committee naturally visited, in the first place, the neighbouring Owens
College, and gained valuable information concerning its rise and progress
and the nature of its operations, much of which was embodied in their
report; others visited King’s College, London, in order to inspect its
Department of Applied Science and Engineering Workshops. Correspondence
was also entered into with the Endowed Schools Commissioners, who held
out prospects of assistance for Exhibitions in Physical Science and in
the Secondary Education of Girls.
The Committee presented their report in 1872. Their suggestions were
limited by the probabilities of realizing them. Too ambitious a scheme
would overreach itself: public support would probably be deterred by the
very magnitude of the effort needed to give effect to it. On the other
hand, no attempt would be worth making unless it afforded reasonable
assurance of practical benefit. After full consideration the Committee
recommended the establishment of the following professorships: (1)
Mathematics and Engineering; (2) Chemistry; (3) Mining, Metallurgy, and
Geology; (4) Experimental Philosophy; and they came to the conclusion
that the minimum sum required for a beginning was £60,000, which they
apportioned as follows: site and buildings, £25,000; endowment, in
addition to students’ fees, £25,000; establishment expenses, £10,000.
The Council accepted the report, and at once appealed for subscriptions.
Sir Andrew Fairbairn headed the list with £1,000, followed by like
amounts from the Duke of Devonshire, Sir Titus Salt, Bart., Messrs.
Beckett & Co., the Lowmoor Iron Company, and Messrs. Hargreave and
Nusseys, members of which firm had started “The Leeds Art and Science
Institute.” The project, however, made but slow progress: pecuniary
support was difficult to secure, and the Committee were forced to
realize that if a start was to be made something less than the £60,000
would have to suffice. It was therefore resolved to postpone all building
operations and, when a sum of £20,000 had been raised, to make a
beginning in temporary premises.
In April 1874 it was reported that the subscription list amounted to
£25,000, and on the 30th of that month a meeting of the subscribers and
donors was held in Leeds for the purpose of defining the Constitution of
the proposed College and electing a Board of Governors. Lord Frederick
Cavendish presided, and Dr. Heaton made a statement explaining the
progress of the movement, and the steps it was proposed to take in order
formally to constitute the College. In addition to the amount subscribed,
the promoters were able to announce offers of help in money, as well
as in science exhibitions, from the Endowed Schools Commissioners. The
Clothworkers’ Company of London promised £500 a year to found a Chair of
Textile Fabrics. But Dr. Heaton went on to remark:
The work is far from being completed; it may be said to be only
commencing. The governing body have an arduous task before
them, both in organizing the College and in still prosecuting
the canvass for subscriptions. £20,000 neither represents the
amount to be expected from the large and wealthy West Riding
of Yorkshire, nor does it approach to the amount necessary to
give permanency and full efficiency to the institution which
we desire to establish. Although it is proposed to commence
operations in a rented building, both because our present means
would not permit of the purchase of a site and erection of
buildings thereon, and because of the long delay which would
be occasioned by waiting for the completion of a building yet
to be erected, it is most desirable, indeed essential, that
the College should ultimately possess its own buildings,
appropriately constructed and arranged for carrying on its work
with the greatest efficiency and convenience. We have often
been asked if Government should not assist the work we have
in hand. Continental Governments do provide for scientific
teaching as applied to industry, and it might be well if
our own Government did more to promote this great national
work. In this country we have always been left to do more for
ourselves by individual action and by voluntary benevolence;
and our national self-reliance and powers of organization and
practical benevolence are no doubt strengthened and developed
by our people being left to their own resources. But inasmuch
as all are interested directly or indirectly in the commercial
prosperity of the nation, this does seem to be an object
towards which (when it is once commenced by private exertions)
some assistance and encouragement by the Government would be
peculiarly appropriate.
In the early autumn of 1874 the Council proceeded to appoint the first
professors of the College. The committee which drew up the scheme of
instruction had recommended the inclusion of the subject of Engineering,
with which should be associated the teaching of Mathematics by the
same professor. However desirable it might be to make provision for
instruction in the principles of Engineering—especially in Mechanical
Engineering, in view of its bearing upon one of the most important
industries of the town and district—the Council, for various reasons,
were unable to give immediate effect to this particular recommendation.
The subject of Mechanical Engineering, to be properly taught, requires
the provision of workshops, laboratories, and an installation of costly
plant. Even if the limited resources of the College had been sufficient
at the time to make the most modest of beginnings, the temporary premises
which had been leased would have been unsuitable for the purpose.
Accordingly the authorities, with that characteristic Yorkshire caution
which takes nothing on trust, goes no further than it can plainly
see—nor, in the common phrase, puts out its hand further than it can draw
it back again—decided to limit their appointments, to begin with, to
Professorships of (1) Experimental Physics (with which they associated
Mathematics); (2) Geology and Mining; (3) Chemistry. To the first Chair
they elected the late Mr. A. W. Rücker, Fellow of Brasenose College,
Oxford, and a Demonstrator in the Clarendon Laboratory—afterwards Sir
Arthur Rücker, Sec. R.S., Professor of Physics in the Royal College
of Science, London, and subsequently Principal of the reorganized
University of London. To the second they appointed the late Mr. A.
H. Green, formerly Fellow of Gonville and Caius College, Cambridge,
and a distinguished member of the Geological Survey, who subsequently
became Professor of Geology in the University of Oxford. For the third
appointment the Council selected the present writer, who had been a
pupil, assistant, and demonstrator under the subject of this memoir at
Owens College, and who, prior to his selection, had held the Chair of
Chemistry in Anderson’s College, Glasgow, now merged into the splendidly
endowed and equipped Royal Technical College.
The premises in which the College was first housed consisted of a
disused Bankruptcy Court situated in Cookridge Street, one of the main
thoroughfares leading out of the town. After a somewhat chequered career
the building had been partially used as a school of cookery, with the
unfortunate result that it had been largely consumed by a fire just prior
to being taken over by the College authorities. Although not so spacious
as Richard Cobden’s old house in Quay Street, Manchester, in which Owens
College first started, the Leeds building, in some respects, was not
ill-adapted to the purposes of the limited professoriate with which the
Yorkshire College of Science began its operations. At all events, it
accommodated without the slightest difficulty all the students who sought
admission to its classes on its opening day.
The College began its work of teaching on October 26, 1874—somewhat later
than the normal time of opening a session—owing to delays in completing
the necessary structural rearrangements. But as there was no yearning
anxiety on the part of anybody to learn, no special inconvenience or
disappointment resulted. There was no preliminary flourish of trumpets;
hardly so much as an opening speech. The initial ceremony was as simple
as the appointments of the College were modest. Each of the three
professors in turn gave an introductory lecture to an audience consisting
of the members of the Council and such of the friends of the embryo
institution as cared to attend. Some encouraging remarks were made by the
Chairman, and so the College was launched. But for a time the students
were few and their advent as far between as the visits of angels.
Still, as the session progressed and the existence of the place became
gradually known the numbers slowly crept up, and by the end of the summer
term they had reached twenty-four and the students’ fees had amounted
to about £150. The authorities now determined to open the next session
with an Inauguration Ceremony. October 6, 1875, is a red-letter day in
the history of the College, for on that date one of the most notable and
helpful gatherings ever held in honour of the College took place. The
proceedings began at noon, when the College buildings were inspected by
a specially invited company; thereafter there was the inevitable public
luncheon and in the evening a general meeting in the Town Hall. On each
occasion the Duke of Devonshire was in the chair. At the College meeting
Lord Frederick Cavendish, its President, gave a short account of its
origin and aims. They were there, he said, to take care that they did
not through ignorance waste the natural wealth of the county, or stay
the further development of the natural qualities of its people. Wealth,
however, was not much in itself but only as a means. Were they quite
certain that in the great wealthy industrial North they had made the same
progress in intellectual culture and refinement as they had in wealth? He
pointed to the example of Owens College: inspired by that College, they
would try in Yorkshire if they could not do something of the same sort.
At the luncheon similar sentiments were uttered by the Dean of Durham,
the Marquess of Ripon, Canon Robinson, Sir Edward Baines, and Mr. W. E.
Forster. It was, however, at the evening meeting that the real success
of the day was achieved. The Victoria Hall was filled with a typical
Yorkshire crowd—alert, receptive, keenly interested, alternately critical
and tolerant, yet ready to be swayed by those who knew how to reach
their intelligence and rouse their enthusiasm. The Duke of Devonshire
opened the proceedings with a dignified and impressive address, worthy
of his high position as Chancellor of the University of Cambridge and as
President of the College in the neighbouring city of Manchester. He gave
a broad and comprehensive account of the general state of educational
activity in the country and indicated the directions in which it was
tending. He pointed to the creation of institutions for secondary and
higher education in our large centres of industry as a sign that the
country was awakening to the fact that all our great branches of industry
were founded on a scientific basis. Although the education—however
indispensable it might be—of the eye and the hand could only be acquired
by actual practice, it could be nothing short of prejudice to deny that
the education of the intellect was also a matter of primary importance.
The Duke affected no flights of eloquence. His diction was simple and
unaffected, and a vein of strong, practical common sense ran through
the whole of his remarks. His presence was not unfamiliar to a Leeds
audience, but they never heard him to greater effect, or, it may be
added, at greater length. His speech was said to be the longest he had
ever made.
The late Lord Playfair, who as Dr. Lyon Playfair then represented a Leeds
constituency, followed on the same theme. He recalled the fact that more
than a generation had passed since standing on a Leeds platform he had
acted as interpreter to his friend Liebig in warning his audience not to
pride itself too much upon its industrial achievements, explaining how
impossible it was for England permanently to preserve her manufacturing
supremacy among nations, unless she bestowed more attention upon the
sciences which formed the groundwork of her industries. Then, in one of
those hortatory discourses with which he occasionally astonished and
delighted an ill-informed House of Commons, he poured forth a wealth of
facts in illustration of the movement in the industrial world which had
rendered these modern colleges an imperative necessity.
Foreign nations had seen that their only chance of compensating
themselves for our advantages in the materials of power and
strength was to excel us in the intelligence and intellect
applied to their use in production. They saw clearly that
as new forces and their application were brought to aid
industrial production, human labour was relieved from much of
its drudgery, and that the conceptions of the brain became more
important than the sweat of the brow. Look to Switzerland,
as an example in point. She has no coal, and no seaboard by
which she can introduce it. Separated from other countries
by ice-clad mountains, and hemmed in by hostile tariffs, she
still becomes an industrial nation. What has led to her great
industrial industry? Not her water-power, for that she is
only beginning to use effectively, but simply the educated
intelligence of her whole population. Valleys in which a few
years ago you only heard the tinkling of the bells of cattle as
they strayed through the pastures are now busy with turkey-red
works and calico print works. Our manufacturers shake their
heads sagaciously, and say, “This is because the air and water
of Switzerland are so well adapted for colours.” But the true
explanation is contained in the answer of Opie, the celebrated
painter, who being asked by an ambitious youth how he mixed his
colours, replied “I mix them with my brains, sir.”
Every part of public education in Switzerland is well
co-ordinated and organized. At Zurich, in addition to a
university for general culture, there is a technical college
larger than Buckingham Palace. And so Switzerland laughs at
countries which look to raw materials as the source of their
wealth, and imports cotton from the United States, tobacco from
Havana, silk from Italy, and sends back to these very markets
her finished products. Again, look at Holland, which is a
reclaimed swamp, containing no mineral materials for industry,
except in a small patch at Limburg. She also compensates for
their absence by increasing the intellectual factor in labour.
Every town of 10,000 inhabitants has its technical school,
supported by the municipalities. Look at Germany, which,
though it does possess valuable raw materials, cultivates with
assiduity the intellectual factor of production. In war and
in peace her population is able to be used to the greatest
advantage. Europe has scarcely yet recovered from its amazement
at the sudden development of that empire, though it had been
laying the foundation for its prosperity in the educational
organization which she gave herself when the wars of Napoleon
taught her the sources of her weakness. Now, surely we should
not close our eyes, in insular pride, to the means taken by
other countries to increase their productive resources. France
fully admits that her recent calamities were largely due to a
want of enlightenment of her people. She is still far ahead of
us in technical institutions, but her general and university
education are very deficient. If you desire an example of a
country which cannot progress because of the ignorance of
her people, look at Spain. When the Duke St. Simon, once
French Minister there, said, “Science in Spain is a crime and
ignorance a virtue,” he explained in one sentence the cause of
her misfortunes. A fertile country, washed by two great oceans,
abounding in coal, iron, copper, and quicksilver, is unable to
thrive because her people are ignorant.
The speaker then turned to the case of the institution whose formal
inauguration had been the occasion of his address, and he proceeded, as a
practical educationist, to give it and its projectors some advice.
Such colleges are likely to receive little support until the
middle-class schools understand their duty to Society by
making Science part of the effective instruction of youth. A
port constructed for the reception of ships, before the ships
themselves are built, has a dreary time to wait for their
arrival, and so the managers of the new College must not be
discouraged because it does not grow quickly.
Nor did he think it would be wise, at least in its infancy, to give to
the College too much of a technical character.
Teach science well to the scholars, and they will make the
applications for themselves. Good food becomes assimilated
to its several purposes by digestion. Epictetus used to say
that though you feed sheep on grass, it is not grass, but wool
which grows upon their backs. What the College should aim at
is to increase the science and intelligence of the community,
and not to teach industries which they know a great deal
better than the professors. The new College is only the local
expression of a general movement for higher education. That
movement has no doubt received its primary impulse from the
conviction that our industrial population ought to be educated
in the principles which underlie their occupations. But the
object is higher than this. There is a desire to spread culture
throughout the country, and not to concentrate it in one or two
favoured localities. The older Universities are beginning to
recognize this fact. Cambridge had made the bold experiment of
trying whether, if the youth of the provinces would not go to
her, they would receive educational missionaries sent to them.
The older Universities could do much from their wealth and
educational resources. They could easily spread enlightenment
over England if they were earnest in the work.
No doubt our manufacturing and commercial classes require
to be mellowed by culture, but our Universities must adapt
that culture to the wants and spare time of busy communities.
They cannot get hold of our great industrial centres in any
permanent way unless they raise them in self-respect and
dignity by giving them an intellectual understanding of their
vocations, and upon that understanding they may engraft as much
polite literature as they can. A college of science, such as
we are inaugurating to-day, is admirable in itself, but it is
not complete. Perhaps it even focuses the light too strongly
on a particular spot, and for this reason it intensifies the
darkness around. Its directors are too enlightened men not to
see this, and I am sure they will aid in the co-ordination
of your other educational resources. The ultimate effect of
this may be that you may evolve a wider and more comprehensive
college for higher education. I look to that time with hope,
for differentiation of our colleges will be the best thing for
learning and for vigour of intellect. Each great provincial
town should have a college as a centre of intelligence, each a
sun capable of warming and illuminating a region around it, not
merely a moon to cast pale and cold beams as a reflection from
a distant luminary.
Subsequent speakers, in so far as they went over the same ground,
merely ploughed with Dr. Playfair’s heifer. The Marquess of Ripon
was not discouraged by the small beginnings of the undertaking. All
the experiences of the past showed that those institutions which had
taken the deepest root, and which had flourished the longest and
wielded ultimately the most extensive influence, had sprung from small
beginnings. Our ancient universities had mainly sprung from individual
effort, and from private endowment. We were not less wealthy than our
ancestors who founded them. Surely we could do now what they did before
us. He trusted that there was not to be any doubt as to the future of
this institution. We were told that its managers had acted to a great
extent upon faith; that they had been doing their work partly out of
capital in the confidence that that capital would be repaid them by the
good sense and generosity of their countrymen.
Of all those who followed, and who pleaded the cause of the College,
none was received with greater heartiness and enthusiasm than Mr. W. E.
Forster, and there was none whose speech had a deeper or more genuine
note of sympathy and encouragement. There were perhaps special reasons
for the warmth of the welcome with which he was greeted. The political
circumstances of the time were peculiar, and Mr. Forster was known to be
the undeserved victim of them. The Liberal party was then in opposition,
and Mr. Gladstone earlier in the year had suddenly thrown up his position
as its leader. Public opinion had designated Mr. Forster as one of the
two or three politicians of eminence who might fitly be regarded as his
successor. But a considerable section of the Nonconformist Radicals
never forgave Mr. Forster for his action—or what they supposed to be
his sole action—respecting the religious question in the Education Act
of 1870. Led by the Birmingham League, they were determined to make his
selection as the party leader impossible. The League party in his own
constituency of Bradford passed a resolution hostile to his claims.
Eventually, rather than divide the Liberal party, Mr. Forster withdrew
from the contest, and Lord Hartington, whom all sections were willing to
follow, was chosen. These circumstances were well known to everybody in
that large audience, and most moderate-minded men in it had the fullest
sympathy with what Mr. Gladstone called “the thoroughly genuine and
independent character” whose natural ambition as a statesman had been so
rudely checked by the sectarian rancour of political allies. This was his
reward for the wise and statesmanlike measure of 1870—one of the finest
achievements to the credit of the Liberal party.
As he stepped to the front of the platform to make his contribution
to the cause of the College he was received with round after round
of applause, and for some minutes he was unable to proceed. Men
instinctively recognized that the effort for which he pleaded was
but another link in the educational chain which he had done so much
to forge—the Endowed Schools Act of 1869 and the great Education
Act of 1870. His was but a short speech, but each strong, vigorous
utterance went home. The College was to be as its name implied—a county
institution—not merely of the town in which it happened to be situated.
They might as well at once acknowledge that the call which had been made
by civilization upon civilized people had not been so much responded to
by England as it had been in some other countries. But they had awoke to
the fact that a call was made upon them. They had a habit of being late,
but not too late.
This demonstration had an immediate effect upon the fortunes of the
College. One practical result was a considerable increase in financial
support. Some of those who had already given, gave largely again;
and many additional subscribers came forward. The existence of the
College was made known throughout the length and breadth of the county.
The Inaugural Ceremony met with a splendid “press.” One of the most
gratifying features was the “uplifting” tone of the speeches: speaker
after speaker pointed out what should be the true character of the
institution: it was not to be a mere Trade School—not simply a Technical
College but a centre of liberal culture and of higher education,
containing within it the potentiality of a University discipline.
To those who had ears to hear, and an imagination to conceive, the future
of the College was plainly indicated within the first twelve months
of its existence. It was this aspect of its destiny that appealed so
strongly to that eminent journalist and man of letters, the late Sir
Wemyss Reid, at that time editing the _Leeds Mercury_, and to which he
gave emphatic expression in those forcible leaders so characteristic of
his pen. So long as he remained in Leeds, Reid proved a staunch friend
of the College and was ever ready to do what he could for its welfare.
Nor was the educational press in general at all backward in extending a
welcome to the infant institution: certain members of the teaching staff
did yeoman service in enlisting its interest and sympathy.
The result of this organized effort, in which all concerned—members of
the Council, officers, teachers—worked with enthusiasm and unanimity, was
seen in the record of the subsequent session’s work.
From this time onward the successive Annual Reports of the College
constitute an unbroken story of continued development. It was not,
of course, surprisingly rapid, but it was steady and continuous. The
progress of the institution was general; it was to be measured by the
gradual increase in the number of its teachers, in the character and
range of their subjects, and in the sessional entry of the students. It
is, perhaps, significant of the change that a quarter of a century had
made in the attitude of the middle class towards educational matters
that the growth of the Yorkshire College, during its early years, should
have been relatively far greater than that of Owens College at the
corresponding period of its existence. But there may have been other
factors to account for, or at least to increase, the difference. The
generally acknowledged success to which the Manchester foundation had
attained at the time of the establishment of the Leeds College may have
been, and probably was, by the force of example and desire of emulation,
a potent contributory cause.
The courses of study at Owens College, so far as circumstances and
its means would permit, were avowedly based, at the outset, on the
examples of the older Universities. The little regard that was then
paid to Science by the Trustees was indicated by the small stipend that
was attached to the science chairs as compared with those on humanity
subjects. There was no general recognition, even in the home of Dalton,
of the beneficent part that science was able to play in the industrial
life of the district. On the other hand, the Yorkshire College started
wholly untrammelled by the traditions of ancient seats of learning, and
its counsels were only remotely influenced by those who had been nursed
in them. As its original designation implied, its projectors clearly
recognized the value of science in relation to industry. They founded
the College, indeed, in the strength of their conviction. They began, in
fact, at a point to which Owens College had arrived when Roscoe made his
influence felt upon its policy.
It cannot be said, however, that the educational aims of the governing
body of the Leeds institution to begin with were very sharply defined;
nor was the action of the Council always consistent. This was, perhaps,
inevitable in a body which contained no professed educationists. Most
of its members had everything to learn of the technique of education,
and, as is not unknown in the history of similar institutions, it was
some time before the Council could be induced to adopt formal means of
availing themselves of the knowledge and experience of the academic
element they sought to direct. At the outset there was no clear
apprehension by them of the lines upon which the College should develop.
There were two distinct parties in the Council, and their views
occasionally conflicted. The College had been ostensibly founded to
serve the industrial interests of the district, and the support of many
of its wealthy manufacturers had been enlisted solely on that ground.
This fact led a certain section of the Council to attempt to impress
upon the College the character of an institute of technology. Whilst
they were willing enough to extend its science side so long as it bore
directly upon industrial needs, they had but little sympathy with the
_literæ humaniores_, and all attempts to include such subjects were
viewed with disfavour as a departure from the original intentions of the
projectors. But the majority of the Council soon came to have a higher
conception of the true functions of the young institution, and it was
only the limitations of their means—their poverty and not their will—that
prevented them from attempting to realize their ideals. To this section
the example of Owens College was, without doubt, a constant stimulus.
It served eventually to direct the College upon the lines upon which it
ultimately developed. But for a time this diversity of aim on the part of
the government of the College made itself manifest with each attempt to
enlarge its curriculum.
Fortunately the professoriate was of one mind on this question, and their
unanimity was not without influence on the policy of the College. They
recognized, of course, that there is no necessary antagonism between the
two aims. Both should be developed _pari passu_: that is a condition
demanded by modern necessities. It is the essential and characteristic
feature of the higher education of the present time. The difficulty
was to give practical effect to these views under the restrictions
imposed by the financial circumstances of the College. But the fact that
the Staff held them and not only gave expression to them, but sought
to realize them so far as lay in their limited power secured for the
Professors the appreciation and confidence of the governing body, and
ultimately obtained for them a responsible share in its counsels.
In the first few years of its existence several circumstances conspired
to enhance the public reputation of the College and to consolidate its
position. In its second session the teaching staff received a great
accession to its strength by the appointment of Mr. Louis C. Miall as
Lecturer in, and afterwards as Professor of Biology. Mr. Miall had
already established a reputation as a man of science, as an able and
attractive lecturer and a sound and experienced teacher. He brought
to the aid of his colleagues a wise judgment and a knowledge of local
conditions which under the special circumstances proved most helpful.
His appointment at this period was not without its significance as an
indication of the broad and liberal views which the majority of the
Council entertained as to the scope and functions of the College. It was
a wise policy to attach to its fortunes all who could in any way serve
its true interests, whether in teaching, in enlisting public sympathy, or
in the management of its affairs.
At the beginning of the following session (1876) the professors, who had
now formed themselves into an Academic Board holding regular meetings
in order to discuss the educational affairs of the College, addressed a
memorandum to the Council inviting them to consider the advisability
of extending the curriculum so as to include Literature and Classics.
They pointed out that they had frequent applications from students for
advice as to obtaining the degrees of the University of London, or as
to complying with the requirements for open science scholarships at the
other Universities, but that, as at present constituted, the College
was unable to afford the necessary facilities. They were of opinion
that if the College were in a position to enable the students to obtain
the science degrees of the University of London its usefulness would be
considerably increased, and the wider curriculum might be expected to
result in an augmentation of the yearly entry. The Council, on the whole,
were not indisposed to consider the suggestion benevolently, but they
regretted they were unable to take any action from lack of funds. The
matter, however, was not allowed to drop. At that time Mr. Stuart and
his syndicate at Cambridge were busy in their attempts to spread culture
among the hives of industry, and their missionaries were at work in Leeds
under the auspices of a committee of which the late Bishop of Truro (Dr.
Gott), then Vicar of Leeds, and the late Sir Edward Baines, one of the
truest and most zealous friends the College ever possessed, were active
members. These gentlemen approached the governing body with a view of
ascertaining whether some arrangement might not be possible whereby the
work initiated by the University Extension Movement could be conducted
by the College in a more systematic and permanent manner than hitherto,
and they undertook on behalf of the Committee to be responsible, for a
term of years, for a considerable proportion of the money that would be
required to give effect to the suggestion. The result of the negotiation
was the establishment of Chairs of Classical Literature and History,
and Modern Literature and History, which were filled, respectively, by
the appointment of Professor John Marshall, M.A., of Balliol College,
Oxford, afterwards Rector of the High School, Edinburgh, a distinguished
classic, and author of an English rendering of the “Odes and Epodes of
Horace,” “Xenophon Memorabilia,” and other works; and Professor F. S.
Pulling, B.A. (Oxon). This enlargement of the educational work of the
College necessitated a slight but significant change in its designation:
henceforward it became known simply as the Yorkshire College until it was
raised to the rank of a university, when it took the name of the town in
which it was situated.
The executive of the College now publicly expressed their conviction that
there is no good reason against grouping in one institution the studies
belonging to liberal culture, and systematic instruction in scientific
and artistic principles and methods as applied to staple industries.
An event of hardly less importance in public estimation at this period
was the purchase of a considerable fraction of the site upon which
the handsome and extensive buildings of the University now stand. The
decision to take this step was one of the most momentous departures
in the history of the institution, and the writer well remembers how
seriously and with what anxiety it was discussed by the small body which
assembled in the office of the legal adviser to the College to confer
with the Chairman of its Finance Committee on the subject. Mr. Francis
Lupton, who at that period held the office, was an ideal custodian of
its financial affairs. No man could be more prudent in their management:
at the same time no one realized more fully that an ill-judged parsimony
might be the worst form of economy, and that a timely expenditure might
be the wisest investment. The two members of the Staff who were present
at this interview, with the courage of faith and the enthusiasm of
conviction, used their best endeavours to incline him to sanction what
everybody who had knowledge of the financial condition of the institution
could not but regard as a most onerous obligation. But in the end there
was practical unanimity among those present as to the expediency and
opportuneness of the step, and the event proved its wisdom.
The foundation-stone of the new College buildings was laid on October 23,
1877, by the Archbishop of York. As architect the Council had secured
the services of the late Mr. Alfred Waterhouse, R.A., whose experience
and success in the erection of Owens College seemed to them the highest
possible qualification. By the generosity of the Clothworkers’ Company,
who had voted the sum of £10,000 for the purpose, the authorities were
enabled to take in hand without further delay the buildings designed for
the Textile Industries Department.
The publicity given to these proceedings greatly strengthened the
position of the College in the county, and especially in the West
Riding. These events were no doubt such as must have come naturally and
in the fullness of time, but their advent at this particular juncture
was possibly accelerated by the action of Owens College in seeking
for university powers. This movement on the part of Manchester had
already engaged the attention of the Council of the Yorkshire College
and was watched by them with no little apprehension. They realized
that it was certain to have an important bearing upon the question of
higher education in Yorkshire, both directly and indirectly, and that
the future of the Yorkshire College was intimately bound up with it.
It was therefore all the more necessary to prove to the world that
Yorkshire men, in their own interests, were very much in earnest about
their young institution; that they were determined to secure for it the
fullest possible freedom of development and to extend and consolidate
its position, unhampered by limitations to which it might conceivably be
subjected by the presence of a relatively rich and powerful university
close to its own area.
In the next chapter we purpose to indicate briefly the steps which led
immediately to the foundation of the new university in Manchester and to
show how the action of the Yorkshire College resulted in modifying its
Constitution as originally contemplated.
CHAPTER V
THE VICTORIA UNIVERSITY
At the time of this movement in favour of the creation of a university
in Manchester the writer of this memoir was, as already stated, a member
of the teaching staff of the Yorkshire College, and was then, as for
some years previously, in constant friendly communication with Roscoe. A
letter informing him of the feeling in Leeds and the district concerning
the action of Owens College, and the desire of the authorities of the
Yorkshire College that its interests should in some way be safeguarded,
brought the following reply under date January 31, 1877:
Thanks for the leader, which I had seen. What does Leeds want?
A peripatetic university? First in Manchester, then in Leeds,
then in Bristol, next in Newcastle? Or will it be content
with an affiliation scheme? Do you want to come in _now_,
incomplete as you are, or will you be content to wait till you
are developed into more of a two-or three-sided sort of thing?
How can the _unity_ of an institution be kept up if all kinds
and conditions of other institutions claim an equal voice in
all the arrangements? In short, would it not be much better for
Leeds, and Bristol and Newcastle, to have separate universities
as well as Manchester, than to make a union in which there
would not be strength? However, our proposed scheme will
provide for the admission and representation of other places if
they like to come in, but a university, like most other things,
must not only have a name, but also a local habitation, and
hence I do not see how the idea of a wandering minstrel kind
of university could possibly answer, and this is what, I take
it, the writer of the article (who was he?) means.… I will send
you a copy of our proposals as soon as they are settled.
After the special meeting of the governors of the Owens College, at which
it was decided to take steps to obtain a university charter, Roscoe wrote
to the present writer as follows under date March 27, 1877:
You may unofficially and on your own responsibility state to
the Secretary of your College that you have reason to know
that in the proposals to obtain a Charter to grant Degrees the
authorities of this College have added a clause to enable other
colleges, under certain conditions, to enter into union with
the proposed University.
We were unable to accede to the request to forward the
documents officially, as the Committee on the subject had not
met. But you may say (privately) that it is the wish of those
who are interested in the movement to make this admission of
other colleges an essential part of the scheme.
This to show your Council that their claims will be properly
and fairly considered.
The following letter, dated December 5, 1877, was received after the
Manchester deputation to the Duke of Richmond and Gordon, when the Lord
President of the Council suggested some alteration in the government of
the proposed university, which the memorialists considered and adopted.
At a meeting yesterday of the University Sub-Committee a
more detailed scheme for the proposed Constitution was
considered. I think you may like to know unofficially a few of
the particulars, bearing in mind that it is simply as yet a
proposal.
(1) The Charter to be granted to the Court of Governors
of Owens College modified so as to give a somewhat
larger representation of the Academical Element.
(2) The representation on the Court, when sitting for
University purposes, of any other qualified College
in union with the University to be as follows: the
President, the Treasurer or Chairman of the Council;
the Principal of such College; such proportionate
numbers of (_a_) the Senate, and (_b_) the Governing
Body of such College as may be determined by the
University Court with the sanction of the Lord
President of the Council.
(3) The Executive Body of the University to consist
of members nominated by the Court and also, on the
union of any other qualified College, the President,
Treasurer, or Chairman, Principal and the members of
the Senate of such Colleges nominated on the Court.
(4) The Court to be summoned for University purposes
as distinguished from Owens College purposes by the
Executive Body of the University.