The following notice, on the subject of Mr. Roscoe’s Monument, appeared, shortly after his death, in one of the Liverpool newspapers:—
“The grave has just closed over the remains of the most distinguished individual among us, and centuries may revolve before this place shall again produce a name so celebrated and illustrious as that of Roscoe. We have loved him; we have honoured him; we have valued his literary fame as our own; we have been proud of the distinction he secured to his native town, not only throughout England, but among nations. The learned of all countries have heard with surprise that Liverpool, once only known for its enormous commercial wealth, and its local and political importance, has given birth to the most distinguished of the historians of Europe; and that, from this great mercantile city, as from a second Florence, have issued works which have shed light upon the most important era in the annals of Italy, and which have illustrated the progress of the arts and of literature throughout all countries and all ages.
| 478 | APPENDIX. |
“Here he has lived and here he has died: here he commenced his literary labours, and pursued and perfected his historical researches. ‘Whatever his hand found to do’ has been accomplished; he has gone from us in the fulness of his days, and in the unalienated possession of his faculties: decay had touched him gently, had spared the fine qualities of his imagination and his heart; and the poem which he prefixed to the last of his works that issued from the press is marked with all the vigour of the maturity of genius. His long and useful life has been spent among those who loved him and those who honoured him; who would have valued his affectionate disposition, his lofty disinterestedness and independence, his fearless sincerity, and the pure and almost patriarchal simplicity of his character, if they had not been united to a mind capable of the most extensive, the most elevated views, if they had not been combined with the most brilliant literary attainments.
“We possess him no more, a treasure to our hearts and our society; we can no longer show him to our children as one whose name is to live when those of all around him are forgotten; we can no longer present him with pride to strangers of the highest rank and most distinguished celebrity; who were all, of whatever class, or sect, or country, unanimous in their desire to show respect to the moral worth and extended literary reputation of Roscoe.
“He is gone from among us; but let us be the first to offer some
tribute to his name; to raise some memorial to the fame which will be awarded to him by the
voices of thousands and the suffrages of nations. The meed assigned to his literary
celebrity may be safely intrusted to surrounding countries and succeeding generations: let
ours be the heartfelt testimony that may be paid by respect and affection; now, while his
noble and vener-
| APPENDIX. | 479 |
“Let those, then, who knew him and loved him, assist in raising this memorial; let the humblest of his friends (and who ever had so many amid all classes and conditions among us?) be invited to offer their contributions. Let the erection of this monument be intrusted to one whom he loved, whose early talents he fostered, whose singular and perfect success in one of the noblest of the arts he was so proud to contemplate—to John Gibson; and to whom more efficient or more distinguished could it be assigned, even if he had not been the favourite of Roscoe and the pupil of Canova? if he had not been born in our town, and entitled to claim from us every recompense, every distinction which liberality and munificence can award to genius?
“The remains of our beloved fellow-citizen have been committed to a humble grave: he sleeps reunited to those he loved best in life; and the place of his rest has been assigned to him by feelings of filial love and affection too pure and too sacred to be blended for a moment with any thought of fame or distinction; but it is in the centre of our beautiful cemetery that a memorial of him will be sought by the traveller and stranger; it is near the relics of the most distinguished and lamented of those who rest among us, even near the grave of Huskisson, that must be raised the monument of Roscoe.
| 480 | APPENDIX. |
The following letters, selected from a number of others, relating to various applications made to Mr. Roscoe for advice and assistance, are of so original a character, that the perusal of them cannot fail to amuse the reader.
The first letter must excite a feeling of no inconsiderable interest for the fate of the writer:—
“Knowing you to be a friend to those who are unjustly oppressed, and as a calamity is now threatened me, which will most certainly fall upon me, unless by your timely interference it is warded off, I have flown to you as a sure refuge and protector.
“Without premising further, my trouble is as follows:—It is my misfortune to have a father who is a rigid Roman Catholic. I have also been brought up to the same religion, but I don’t like it. My mother is dead; she was a Protestant. My father has lately discovered I had been to a Protestant church frequently; and he told me, on Thursday evening, for so doing, he would send me on board a man of war; and that he considered he should be doing God a good service by banishing a heretic for ever from his friends and country; that for his part he was so firm, he would die for the Catholic cause.
“O Sir! you are a man of knowledge and experience; and you must know
how I am circumstanced from what I have said. I cannot express my trouble to you; for
| APPENDIX. | 481 |
“I thought he was prompted to say what he did through passion; but I find (though not from himself, for he keeps it secret,) that he was yesterday (Friday) at a rendezvous house, and has actually engaged some of the press-gang to take me by surprise. I must also inform you, that, in consequence of the failure of a mercantile house in this town, I am now out of employment; but I am now engaging with a Portuguese house, in this town, to go out to the Brazils, there to remain, in the capacity of book-keeper.
“O Sir! if you will but protect me from so unjust a doom that I am menaced with, I will constantly offer up my prayers for your happiness.
“I will say no more, but conclude by hoping you will pardon the liberty I have taken; for I have been emboldened through hearing of your many acts of greatness, and which redounds eternal honour to you.
“P. S. Advise me, if you please, how to act.”
Amongst those who solicited his literary advice and assistance, was the writer of the ensuing letter:—
“Kind Sir I take this oportunity of wrighting to you being advised by
a Ladey of Liverpool to do so in order to tell you i am a Brittich Sailor that as Lateley
arived in England after aving maid moy escaape from the Cost of New Zeland ware i was ten
years a prisner and is Most beautifull tatued over the face and bodey, and as wrote a
manuscript of every think Consirning the interior of New Zeland, the wars, Mariges,
Berings, and
| 482 | APPENDIX. |
The following letter, displaying rather more scholarship than that of the New Zealand traveller, is no less remarkable in its way:—
“O tu, vir illustrissime, note quamvis mihi fama tantum virtutum, et
lectione librorum tuorum, tibi clamo, opem petens ex faucibus averni. Ob trigenta et
quinque libras incarceratus pereo. Semper pessimum malorum incarcerationem duxi; semper
stabilissimâ mente statui, propriâ me manu ab isto malo, si unquam mihi accederit, memet
liberaturum.”—“Tametsi re angustissimâ domi a primâ pueritia implicitus, ad
doctrinam nihilominus haud vulgarem αυτοδιδακτος perveni. Semper cum fortunâ bellum gessi,
internecionem vereor, et illa victoriâ evadet. Pater meus mortutis est—mater superstes,
cujus solas sum ego divitiæ, sola voluptas, sola spes. Si ipse iti carcere maneam, illa
morietur. Sed non manebo. Ipse, ipse me solvam, omni alio deficiente
auxilio.”—“Multa pro te facere possum. Codices Græcos, Latinos, Italicos
exarabo; libros evolvam; auctoritates colligam. Nihil est quod ferre aut facere recusem,
modo ex hac rerum inquinatarum sentina et
| APPENDIX. | 483 |
Amongst the many singular events in which Mr. Roscoe was called upon to bear a part, was one of great delicacy, the general outline of which may be gathered from the following letter. The young and accomplished lady to whom it was, nearly half a century ago, addressed, was indebted to Mr. Roscoe and his family for services of no ordinary kind, rendered under circumstances of peculiar difficulty:—
“As I have been unexpectedly led to take an interest in your concerns, I trust my addressing a few lines to you will not be thought impertinent. The commission intrusted to me was not a voluntary one on my part, and was only intended to suit the present occasion; but I should think I had ill discharged my duty were I to suffer you to return without endeavouring, as far as in my power, to promote your future happiness. Whatever may be the result, the motive is surely excusable. Though a stranger, I cannot but feel for the peculiarity of your situation; deprived of those relatives who would have been your protection, you have confided your happiness to others. It is a heavy misfortune to be friendless, but a still heavier to mistake an enemy for a friend: that this has been your lot I greatly suspect, and sincerely wish I may be mistaken in the supposition.
“Before I proceed farther give me leave to say, once for
all, that your own situation was the sole inducement with me to interfere on
your account, and not any recommendation from any person. The commission was
| 484 | APPENDIX. |
“In some of the short conversations we have had on your concerns, you will possibly have thought my enquiries might proceed from an idle curiosity; but I trust they sprung from a better motive. Was it possible for a man of any feeling to know so much of your history as you have thought proper to intrust me with, and not be deeply interested on your account? With family, with fortune, with accomplishments which promise more than a common share of happiness to their possessor, is it possible to stand by and see them become useless, or, rather, perverted into the means of misery, without one endeavour to prevent it? To be silent on such an occasion would be to become accessary to your ruin. In making an attempt to serve you, I have nothing to fear from any of the parties concerned; but from your prudence and good sense I have much to hope, that the language of truth, though from the pen of a stranger, will not be without its effect.
“I will candidly own my questions were directed to obtain
information, whether the unfortunate event we were speaking of was the result
of an attachment in which your heart was engaged, or not, and whether it was
probable the evil might be speedily remedied by a union with some person whose
future attention might in some degree compensate you for the danger and
distress you have suffered on his account; but on this point no light
| APPENDIX. | 485 |
“In what I have to say I must, therefore, proceed on supposition; only leaving it to yourself to apply it, in case any observations I may make should have a reference to your situation.
“Give me leave, then, Madam, to express my wonder and astonishment, that in your rank of life, with your fortune and endowments, any man, whatever his quality might be, who had so far engaged your affections, should have chosen to contribute to your destruction and disgrace, rather than to your true interest and happiness. From what has happened, I am almost authorised to suppose you would have honoured him with your hand. Could he refuse it? Whatever his pretence might be, rest assured he is not only undeserving of your confidence and esteem, but merits your contempt and aversion. Avoid him more than death; for depend upon it you are a sacrifice to his gratification; that instead o being your friend, he is your most unpardonable enemy, and pursues his selfish aims, at the risk of every thing that is dear and honourable to you in life. To see him again would be a circumstance of regret; but, still more, to listen to him, even so far as to give him an opportunity of apology for that which cannot possibly admit of apology, would be a degradation of which I cannot think you capable. Relax from your resolution of eternally discarding him, and you are lost for ever.
“But perhaps your heart may feel an attachment, against
which reason and argument are of little avail. Love, it is said, is
involuntary. I should, however, suppose (and, as a married man, I may be
allowed to have had some experience), that the passion of love at least expects
mutuality; and that it must be an un-
| 486 | APPENDIX. |
“I should be happy to think that these remarks are not in any degree applicable to your situation. Perhaps your future prospects in life are more favourable than, from want of information, they appear to me; and a short time may place you in a happy and respectable situation with a person deserving your esteem. If that be the case, you will have the goodness to consider this as a well-meant, though mistaken attempt to be serviceable to you in a point of the highest importance.
“Supposing, then, that there is some ground for my
apprehensions (without which my letter may be considered as blank paper), give
me leave to suggest to you a few considerations which may possibly assist you
in your future conduct. That any further connection can subsist between you and
the author of your misfortune, whoever he may be, I will not believe. But your
unprotected situation, an attention to your character, a regard to your
helpless infant, and, perhaps, other considerations, will still require no
small degree of prudence and fortitude. In these, however, you have shown you
are not deficient; and I am convinced that, by directing
| APPENDIX. | 487 |
“If the person alluded to be resident in your neighbourhood, assert your own dignity, and immediately end all connection, at whatever risk it may be. Have no apprehension that the real object of your journey here may by these means be known. Your conduct in spurning your deceiver from you will, even in that case, exculpate you from the disgrace in the eyes of the world, and place it where it ought to rest.
“Attach yourself, as much as circumstances will admit, to your relatives and some of the most respectable of your friends; and whilst you remain at your house, never be without their company.
“Make a confidant of some person of worth of your own sex, in whom you can confide; this will be an inexpressible relief to your mind, and will probably preserve you from many dangers.
“Consider whether it would not be more advisable to fix your residence in some large town—as London, or Bath. A country residence cannot be favourable to you. But, above all, let me most earnestly advise you to accept of some of those offers of a connection for life, which, I am convinced, will be made to you. On this head I have only one thing to say. Never live in apprehension that your husband may discover a secret; never entertain the consciousness that you have in any manner misled him. The constant and habitual practice of deception will embitter your life and degrade your mind. An avowal of this transaction before marriage would, I confess, operate differently on different men; but it will be a test of affection, and his love of you and your sincerity will be the best pledges of your future happiness.
“May I be allowed, before I conclude, to request you
| 488 | APPENDIX. |
“Let me then once more entreat you, Madam, if there be any veneration due to your lost relatives; if there be any respect of family and connections; if there be any thing honourable in female conduct; or any choice between innocence and guilt, lasting happiness or eternal misery,—to exert every power of your mind to disengage yourself from a connection which has already so deeply injured you, and which, if continued, can only prey upon your spirits, injure your health, impair your future hopes, and inevitably expose you to the pity or contempt of those who, with infinitely less advantages in every respect, have either resisted, or not experienced, the dangers to which you have been exposed.
“That a determined resolution of correcting the errors
of your present conduct may be a consolation to your mind, and may accompany
you, like a good angel, on your long and fatiguing journey; and that God may
| APPENDIX. | 489 |
The following character of Mr. Roscoe was introduced by the Hon. G. C. Verplanck, of New York, in a lecture delivered by him on the opening of a new institution for the encouragement of literature and science in that city:—
“I cannot refrain from adding to these memorable examples in the two most modern of the sciences, another, of eminence in literature, gained under similar circumstances. It is one that, whilst it illustrates my argument, affords me a most fitting occasion to pay a passing tribute to the memory of a venerable friend, the late William Roscoe of Liverpool. He has long ago received the richer offering of American eulogy. The praise which Washington Irving has bestowed upon him*, as a scholar and a gentleman, must be familiar to most of you. With his accustomed graceful and polished eloquence of style, he has painted Roscoe as having almost created his own mind, springing up and forcing its way through a thousand obstacles; as self-prompted, self-sustained, and almost self-educated; conquering every obstacle, and making his own road to fame and fortune; and, after becoming one of the ornaments of the nation, turning the whole force of his talents and
* Sketch Book. |
| 490 | APPENDIX. |
“He has alluded to the dignity with which Roscoe sustained the reverses of fortune in his old age, and the solace he then found in the company of those much loved associates, whom his muse has hailed as the ‘teachers of wisdom, chiefs of elder art.’
“To the justice or the beauty of Irving’s eulogy in these regards I could add nothing; but it was my own good fortune to have viewed Roscoe under yet another aspect.
“The circumstance of my having, as a member of the legislature of this state, been officially engaged upon the improvement of the penitentiary system, which subject had attracted much of Mr. Roscoe’s attention, led to the renewal of a slight personal acquaintance that I had formed with him several years before, and to a correspondence that lasted till his death. I can bear testimony to the philanthropic zeal with which he entered into the examination of that and of every question of improvement on this side of the Atlantic; to the warm interest he took in every thing that concerned the cause of civil and religious liberty, of education, and of humanity; to his zeal, his courage, and his unwearied efforts in promoting the success of all of them.
“As teaching by his own example and by his writings the value of a
union of commerce with intellectual pursuits; as showing, by his life, how they may be made
to
| APPENDIX. | 491 |
“He died during last summer, at the venerable age of eighty years; retaining to the very last his activity of mind, his love of letters, and his zeal for the service of mankind. His death was mourned, by the intelligent and the good of Great Britain, as a public loss. Upon us, too, his memory has claims. I have therefore thought that this place, and the occasion of opening a course of varied instruction, before a commercial audience of New York, demanded this public tribute to the talents and worth of William Roscoe.”
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