In the spring of 1786, through the kindness of Dr. Beadon, afterward Bishop of Bath and Wells, Clarke obtained the office of chapel clerk at Jesus College, Cambridge, whither he removed about the Easter of the above year. Next year he sustained the heavy calamity to lose a pious, beneficent, affectionate father, by which misfortune, young and inexperienced as he was, without a profession, and with few prospects of advancement, he was entirely thrown upon his own resources, his remaining parent not possessing the means of aiding him with aught beyond her prayers. Fortunately his deceased father had, instead of wealth, bequeathed to his family a more valuable inheritance; a name revered for sanctity, and a number of noble-minded friends, who not only provided for the immediate necessities of its several members, but continued to watch over their progress, and on many important occasions to advance their interests in after-life. Nevertheless, Clarke had to contend with numerous difficulties. “Soon after the death of their father,” says Mr. Otter, “the two elder sons returned to college; and Edward, having now acquired a melancholy title to one of the scholarships of the society of Jesus College, founded by Sir Tobias Rustat, for the benefit of clergymen’s orphans, was elected a scholar on this foundation immediately upon his return. The emoluments of his scholarship, joined to those of an exhibition from Tunbridge school, and the profits of his chapel clerk’s place, amounting in the whole to less than 90l. a year, were his principal, indeed it is believed his only resources during his residence at college; and, however well they may have been husbanded, it must be evident that, even in those times of comparative moderation in expense, they could not have been sufficient for his support, especially when it is understood that he was naturally liberal to a fault. It does not appear, however, that he derived during this time any pecuniary assistance from his father’s friends; and as there is the strongest reason to believe that he faithfully adhered to the promise he had made to his mother, that he would never draw upon her slender resources for his support, it may excite some curiosity to know by what means the deficiency was supplied. The fact is, that he was materially assisted in providing for his college expenses by the liberality of his tutor, Mr. Plampin, who, being acquainted with his circumstances, suffered his bills to remain in arrear; and they were afterward discharged from the first profits he derived from his private pupils.”
The indolent inactivity which had marked his school studies did not desert him at college. He seems, in fact, to have been disgusted with the system of education pursued at Cambridge, caring nothing for mathematics, which were there regarded as all in all, and finding among the other mental pursuits of the place nothing whatever to kindle the ardour of his ambitious mind. Still the desire of fame, without which man never performed any thing great, began gradually to manifest itself in his character both to himself and others. Exceedingly uncertain as to the mode, he yet determined to acquire in one way or another a reputation in literature; and while many of those around him were descanting complacently upon his failings, and the consequent backwardness of his acquirements, he silently felt the sting which was so soon to goad him on to a destiny more brilliant than his compassionate comrades ever dreamed of. His favourite studies, however, such as they were, he seems to have pursued with considerable eagerness; and by degrees his taste, after wavering for some time, settled definitively on literature.
In the spring of 1790 Clarke obtained, through the recommendation of Dr. Beadon, then Bishop of Gloucester, the office of private tutor to the honourable Henry Tufton, nephew to the Duke of Dorset. The place selected for his residence with his pupil, says Mr. Otter, was a large house belonging to Lord Thanet, inhabited at that time only by one or two servants, situated in a wild and secluded part of the county of Kent, and cut off, as well by distance as bad roads, from all cheerful and improving society; a residence suitable enough to a nobleman with a large establishment and a wide circle of friends, but the last place, one would have thought, to improve and polish a young man of family just entering into active life. His pupil, moreover, had conceived a dislike for study and for tutors of every kind, which promised to enhance the tedium of a life spent in such a scene. But Clarke, who probably sympathized with the young man’s aversion from intellectual task-work, very quickly succeeded by his gay, lively, insinuating manners in winning his confidence, and, apparently, in convincing him that a certain degree of knowledge might be useful, even to a man of his rank. This agreeable result, which seems to have been somewhat unexpected, so raised our incipient traveller in the estimation of the Duke of Dorset, that the engagement, which appears to have been at first for nine months only, was prolonged another year, the latter part of which was occupied in making with his pupil the tour of Great Britain. Of these domestic travels he on his return published the history; but the performance appears to have been hastily and slovenly written, and, as has been the fate of many other youthful works, to have been severely judged by the mature author, jealous of his fame, and averse from exhibiting to the public the nakedness of his unformed mind.
Shortly after the conclusion of this tour he accompanied his pupil in a little excursion to Calais, when he enjoyed the satisfaction, which none but a traveller can appreciate, of treading for the first time on foreign ground. In 1792 he was fortunate enough to obtain an engagement to travel with Lord Berwick, whom he had known at college, and in the autumn of that year set out in company with that young nobleman, through Germany and Switzerland into Italy. He was now in the position for which nature had originally designed him. “An unbounded love of travel,” says he, “influenced me at a very early period of my life. It was conceived in infancy, and I shall carry it with me to the grave. When I reflect upon the speculations of my youth, I am at a loss to account for a passion which, predominating over every motive of interest and every tie of affection, urges me to press forward and to pursue inquiry, even in the bosoms of the ocean and the desert. Sometimes, in the dreams of fancy, I am weak enough to imagine that the map of the world was painted in the awning of my cradle, and that my nurse chanted the wanderings of pilgrims in her legendary lullabies.” This was the spirit which urged the Marco Polos, the Chardins, and the Bruces to undertake their illustrious journeys; and if Clarke was compelled by circumstances to confine his researches to less remote and better known countries, he exhibited in his rambles through these a kindred enthusiasm, and similar devotion and energy.
Clarke and his companion having passed the Alps, which, however frequently seen, still maintain their rank among the most sublime objects in nature, descended into Italy, visited Turin and Rome, and then proceeded to Naples, in which city and its environs they remained nearly two years. In the summer of 1793 there was, as is well known, an eruption of Mount Vesuvius, which our traveller, now an inhabitant of Naples, enjoyed ample opportunities of visiting. And here a striking manifestation of the daring intrepidity of the English occurred: for not only Clarke himself, part of whose business as a traveller it was to familiarize himself with danger, but numbers of other English gentlemen, and even ladies, ascended to the mouth of the burning crater and the sources of lava-streams in an active state for mere amusement; where, on one occasion, a lady narrowly escaped death from a large stone from the volcano, which flew by her like a wheel. At another time the whole party were menaced with the fate of the elder Pliny. It was in the month of February. “I found the crater in a very active state,” says Clarke, “throwing out volleys of immense stones transparent with vitrification, and such showers of ashes involved in thick sulphurous clouds as rendered any approach to it extremely dangerous. We ascended as near as possible, and then crossing over to the lava attempted to coast it up to its source. This we soon found was impossible, for an unfortunate wind blew all the smoke of the lava hot upon us, attended at the same time with such a thick mist of minute ashes from the crater, and such fumes of sulphur, that we were in danger of being suffocated. In this perplexity I had recourse to an expedient recommended by Sir W. Hamilton, and proposed immediately crossing the current of liquid lava to gain the windward side of it; but felt some fears, owing to the very liquid appearance the lava there had so near its source. All my companions were against the scheme, and while we stood deliberating, immense fragments of stone and huge volcanic bombs that had been cast out by the crater, but which the smoke had prevented us from observing, fell thick about us, and rolled by with a velocity that would have crushed any of us, had we been in the way. I found we must either leave our present spot, or expect instant death; therefore, covering my face with my hat, I rushed upon the lava and crossed over safely to the other side, having my boots only a little burnt and my hands scorched. Not one of my companions, however, would stir, nor could any persuasion of mine avail in getting a single guide over to me. I then saw clearly the whole of the scene, and expected my friends would every moment be sacrificed to their own imprudence and want of courage, as the stones from the crater fell continually around them, and vast rocks of lava bounded by them with great force. At last I had the satisfaction of seeing them retire, leaving me entirely alone. I begged hard for a torch to be thrown over to me, that I might not be lost when the night came on. It was then that André, one of the ciceroni of Resina, after being promised a bribe, ran over to me, and brought with him a bottle of wine and a torch. We had coasted the lava, ascending for some time, when looking back I perceived my companions endeavouring to cross the lava lower down, where the stream was narrower. In doing this they found themselves insulated, as it were, and surrounded by two different rivers of liquid fire. They immediately pressed forward, being terribly scorched by both currents, and ran to the side where I was; in doing which one of the guides fell into the middle of the red-hot lava, but met with no other injury than having his hands and face burnt, and losing at the same time a bottle of vin de grave, which was broken in the fall, and which proved a very unpleasant loss to us, being ready to faint with excessive thirst, fatigue, and heat. Having once more rallied my forces, I proceeded on, and in about half an hour I gained the chasm through which the lava had opened itself a passage out of the mountain. To describe this sight is utterly beyond all human ability. My companions, who were with me then, shared in the astonishment it produced; and the sensations they felt in concert with me were such as can be obliterated only with our lives. All I had seen of volcanic phenomena before did not lead me to expect such a spectacle as I then beheld. I had seen the vast rivers of lava which descended into the plains below, and carried ruin and devastation with them; but they resembled a vast heap of cinders on the scoriæ of an iron foundry, rolling slowly along, and falling with a rattling noise over one another. Here a vast arched chasm presented itself in the side of the mountain, from which rushed with the velocity of a flood the clear vivid torrent of lava in perfect fusion, and totally unconnected with any other matter that was not in a state of complete solution, unattended by any scoriæ on its surface, or gross materials of an insolvent nature; but flowing with the translucency of honey, in regular channels cut finer than art can imitate, and glowing with all the splendour of the sun.”
In the July of the same year our traveller viewed Vesuvius under another aspect, when soft, tranquil beauty had succeeded to terrific sublimity. “While we were at tea in the Albergo Reale,” says he, “such a scene presented itself as every one agreed was beyond any thing of that kind they had ever seen before. It was caused by the moon, which suddenly rose behind the convent on Vesuvius; at first a small bright line silvering all the clouds, and then a full orb which threw a blaze of light across the sea, through which the vessels passed and re-passed in a most beautiful manner. At the same time the lava, of a different hue, spread its warm tint upon all the objects near it, and threw a red line across the bay, directly parallel to the reflection of the moon’s rays. It was one of those scenes which one dwells upon with regret, because one feels the impossibility of retaining the impression it affords. It remains in the memory, but then all its outlines and its colours are so faintly touched, that the beauty of the spectacle fades away with the landscape; which, when covered by the clouds of the night, and veiled in darkness, can never be revived by the pencil, the pen, or by any recourse to the traces it has left upon the mind.”
In the autumn of 1793 Clarke received from Lord Berwick a proposal that he should accompany him to Egypt and the Holy Land, with which our traveller, whose secret wishes had long pointed that way, immediately closed. While preparations were making for the journey, Lord Berwick suddenly recollected that some living, to which he was to present his brother, might fall vacant during his absence, and be lost to his family. He determined, therefore, on sending an express to England; and when he had hired his courier, Clarke, who perhaps felt the want of violent exercise, offered to accompany the man, that no time might be lost. He accordingly set out for England, and having remained two or three days in London to execute the commission with which he had been intrusted, he hurried down to Shropshire, and arranged the business which had brought him to England. This being accomplished, he returned to London, where, to his infinite surprise and mortification, he found a letter from Lord Berwick, informing him that the expedition to Egypt had been postponed or abandoned. His engagement with this nobleman, however, had not yet expired. He therefore, after a short stay in England, hastened back to Italy, from whence he finally returned in the summer of 1794.
Clarke now spent some time with his mother and family at Uckfield, and in the autumn of the same year undertook, at the recommendation of the Bishop of St. Asaph, the care of Sir Thomas Mostyn, a youth of about seventeen. This engagement continued about a year, during which period he resided with his pupil in Wales, where he became known to Pennant, with whom he afterward maintained a correspondence. When this connexion had, from some unexplained causes, ceased to exist, our traveller undertook a small periodical work called “Le Rêveur,” which, when twenty-nine numbers had been published without success, was judiciously discontinued, and sunk so completely into oblivion that not a single copy, it is believed, could now be found.
In the autumn of 1796 Clarke entered into an engagement with the family of Lord Uxbridge, which, under whatever auspices begun, was highly beneficial to himself and satisfactory to his employers. The youth first placed under his care, delicate and feeble in constitution, soon fell a prey to disease; but the next youngest son of the family, the honourable Berkeley Paget, succeeded his brother; and with him, in the summer and autumn of 1797, our traveller made the tour of Scotland. This was in every respect an agreeable and fortunate journey for our traveller, who not only enjoyed the scenery, wild, varied, and beautiful, which the north of England and many parts of Scotland afford, but secured in his pupil a powerful friend, who, so long as our traveller lived, promoted his interests, and when his life had closed, continued the same benevolent regard to his family.
On the termination of his connexion with Mr. Paget, who was now sent to Oxford, Clarke retired to Uckfield, where, for a time, he seemed entirely immersed in the pleasures of field-sports. His devotion to this species of amusement, however, was destined to be of short duration. A young gentleman of Sussex, whose education had been very much neglected, succeeded about this time to a considerable estate, upon which he intimated his desire of placing himself for three years under the guidance and instruction of our traveller, first at Cambridge, and afterward during a long and extensive tour upon the Continent. The pecuniary part of the proposal was very liberal, says Mr. Otter, and the plan was entered upon without delay. The traveller and his pupil remained a whole year at Cambridge, during which the former, who fully understood the advantages of knowledge, and had been hitherto prevented by his wandering life from pursuing any regular course of study, profited quite as much as the latter.