[LORD ERSKINE.]
Among the great men and accomplished orators who, during Pitt’s long and arduous tenure of office, strove energetically to curb his will, humble his pride, and exalt his celebrated rival, none was more conspicuous for ability and eloquence than the immortal Erskine, though it was not in a senatorial capacity that he displayed, to their full extent, those vast powers, or achieved the oratorical triumphs which added lustre to an ancestral name, and formed a reputation so splendid.
Thomas Erskine, unquestionably one of the most brilliant, courageous, and irresistible advocates who ever appeared at the English, or indeed at any, bar, was born on the 10th of January, 1750, in the ancient and historic city of Edinburgh. He was the third son of the Earl of Buchan, a Scottish nobleman of long and illustrious descent, but in circumstances so reduced and different from those enjoyed by the race for many centuries, that his yearly income was less than is now obtained, with ease, by not a few banker’s clerks. Some small portion of the family estate still remained, and on it an old castellated residence, probably in as ruinous a condition as the famous Wolf’s Crag, and, therefore, uninhabited by its proprietor. Had the Caledonian thane been a single man, and unblessed by connubial ties, he might have run a career similar to that of the great novelist’s proud, haughty, and restless hero, “the last Lord of Ravenswood.” But he had prudently married the daughter of a Lothian baronet, who speedily brought him several children: so he passed his life in chill poverty, and died in the odor of sanctity while at Bath, seeking consolation in the eloquent preaching of Whitefield, which was said to make sinners tremble as if a lion were roaring among them.
Although it is likely that this exemplary earl was a justice of the peace, and rather more than probable that there were lawsuits in the family, it does not appear that, previous to the chancellor’s birth, the repose of the noble countess was disturbed or agitated by such dreams as heralded the Spectator’s introduction into existence. However, that patrician matron was held in esteem as a woman of pious character and aspirations. She took pains to bring up her sons in the way they should go, and instruct them in the rudiments of education. She grounded them thoroughly in the Presbyterian catechism, and so imbued their young minds with the spirit of religion that Erskine, in after life, was in the habit of devoutly ascribing each piece of good fortune to a special interposition of an over-ruling Providence.
At an early age he was placed at the High School of the Scottish metropolis, then the most approved seminary north of the Tweed; and there he remained for several years. His natural talents shone forth; he distinguished himself sufficiently to be generally at the top of his class; and no doubt, also, he proved his courage and prowess in the boyish exploits undertaken in the neighborhood, and the juvenile warfare daily earned on in the play-ground. It was well for him to be exposed to such an ordeal, for the path that lay before him was not gaily strewed with roses, but thickly “beset with thorns and briers:” so also, though in a less degree, was that of his witty, cheerful, and able brother, Harry, afterward Lord Advocate for Scotland and Dean of Faculty.
When Erskine had reached the age of twelve, his high-born parents removed to St. Andrew’s, with the view of adopting a style of living more in accordance with their narrow finances than could be pursued by people of “note and quality” even in the Scottish capital. At St. Andrew’s he attended the grammar-school for a while, and subsequently took advantage of some classes in the college of the old town; though it appears that his opportunities of profiting by that ancient institution were extremely limited. Nevertheless, his talent appeared; he manifested a strong love of books, and he derived from those within his reach a considerable amount of miscellaneous information, which opened up his mind and fired his ambition. Bright dreams of future eminence began to illumine his young heart, and, feeling the urgent and paramount necessity of doing something for his support and advancement in life, he expressed a decided preference for the learned professions, and a desire to have his time and energies employed in the pursuit of one of them.
The requisite means, however, were wanting to gratify his inclination in this respect; and his parents were compelled to state, that the best thing they could do to promote his interest was to have him placed in some man-of-war as a midshipman. The prospect of donning a blue jacket and cocked hat, and of the consequent adventures—generally so pleasing to the juvenile imagination—was by no means so fascinating to the clever, studious, and intellectual young “honorable” as might have been expected; but, after some ineffectual efforts to make matters more to his liking, he felt himself bound to endure what he regarded as a hard fate, and was accordingly embarked about the completion of his fourteenth year. Doubtless the usual parting-scene was enacted with all due formality. Gil Blas is made to state that, when he left home, his parents made him a present of their blessing, which was all that he had ventured to expect, for the very competent reason that they had nothing else to bestow; and, no doubt, Erskine was similarly favored. Perhaps, also, the noble earl would gravely admonish the young sailor not to trifle or hurt himself with his sword; his mother would give him a last embrace; and his sisters would, with tears, give evidence of their grief.
The next few years of Erskine’s life were passed on board ship, where, however uncongenial the service, he gave all due attention to discipline, and besides found time for improving his mind and increasing his stores of knowledge. When ashore, he made a point of seeing something of life in the various places where he happened to be; and those who recollect his fine and beautiful passage about the Indian chief, in his speech for Stockdale, will hardly question the use he at this period made of his rare faculties. Having probably drawn his ideas of naval life from the interesting descriptions in the pages of “Roderick Random,” it is not wonderful that he found his situation more tolerable than he had been led to anticipate. He particularly enjoyed himself while stationed at Jamaica, relished its picturesque scenery, and experienced the delightful novelty of dancing at dignity balls with quadroon damsels, who chattered in broken English, exhibited grinning rows of ivory teeth, and whose white dresses contrasted strangely with their colored skins and their dark rolling eyes, which gave evidence rather of their African than their European descent.
Though unfortunately, as it then seemed, engaged in pursuits for which he had no real vocation, the aspiring Scot struggled manfully onward in his profession. Nor did he fail in after life to make judges and juries aware that he had profited largely by his naval experience, when engaged in cases connected with marine affairs, as he frequently was from his knowledge of technical phrases and other matters. Meantime he, at length, had the comfort of being appointed acting-lieutenant in the “Tartar,” and of making a voyage homeward in that capacity; but on arrival in England, finding that the ship was to be paid off, and that he would, from this circumstance, be reduced to his original rank, he desperately resolved to tempt the seas no more.