From infancy, or, in any case, as far back as his memory would go, Milner was animated by a strong affection for his elder brother, author of the well-known “Church History,” who, in pursuance of their sensible parents’ laudable resolution, had been placed at the grammar-school of the town. Doubtless, by one so closely united to him in bonds of tenderness and relationship, the future dean would in childhood be taught to read, and inspired with that restless and singular love of knowledge which rendered him, in later days, so peculiarly eager and ardent in the pursuit, acquisition, and investigation of any subject which circumstances brought under his notice or chance cast in his way, no matter how unconnected ordinary mortals might deem it with the regular duties and avocations pertaining to the station he occupied. The elder brother, originally intended to pursue his father’s trade, soon became so distinguished in the school, that one of the teachers was in the habit of recommending his pupils to apply to Joseph Milner’s memory in regard to questions of history and mythology, observing that he was more easily consulted than dictionaries, or the Pantheon, and quite as much to be relied on. The natives of the hamlet speedily began to gaze at him as a “marvelous boy,” and testified their respect by calling him “the learned lad.” Nor at the fireside of the family cottage did he lack encouragement. The earnest artisan manifested the utmost desire that the young scholar should have every aid within their reach to promote his improvement in learning, and one Saturday night astonished the little circle by the tidings that he had just spent the money which ought to have purchased a joint of meat on a Greek book for his son, being unable to procure both out of the slender earnings of the week. The brothers forced their way together through great difficulties; each arrived at distinction in his sphere of labor; and perhaps few more pleasing instances of brotherly love continuing could be cited than that which they, from first to last, exhibited. As early as his sixth year, little Isaac was led by the hand of his future benefactor to school, whither he continued to trudge daily for some years under the same guidance and protection. His progress in juvenile studies was most rapid and satisfactory: he soon learned to translate Ovid and Sallust with tolerable correctness; and he, in due time, commenced taking lessons in Greek, under auspices which must have delighted his father’s heart, and tempted his imagination, however calm, to indulge in visions of a golden future for the hopeful boy.
In the ninth year of his age, Milner’s young mind had the advantage of being opened and impressed by a visit to the mighty metropolis, though how, at that date, he happened to be taken on such a journey unfortunately does not appear. However, he is related to have been in London when news of the capture of Quebec by General Wolfe arrived. It was bawled through the streets by watchmen at the midnight hour, and bonfires blazed in triumph; and then he was told, for the first time, about grim-visaged war and the odious French. Assuredly he heard enough of them before the close of his long life, in that age of great and portentous events.
About this period the father of the Milners was cut off amidst his efforts to educate his offspring and promote their welfare; and thus seemed to be defeated all the wishes and hopes which the cleverness of the traveled little lads had created in the bosoms of their friends. It was necessary, indeed, to make the best of matters; and the elder brother being otherwise disposed of, it was deemed prudent to put Isaac out to a trade. The town being one of the greatest markets for woolen cloth in the kingdom, the inhabitants of the surrounding villages were employed in the manufacture. Accordingly, Milner was sent to work at and be initiated into the mysteries of a factory, which, in his case, must have been sadly against the grain. Kirke White, when placed in a situation somewhat similar, complained of being most unhappy, and of wanting something to occupy his brain. And Milner, doubtless, had little more relish than the boy-poet of “Clifton Grove,” who perished in his youthful fame, for the trade to which he was now apparently doomed for life. To a youth conscious of great abilities, and whose extraordinary faculties had been already recognized by teachers, such an occupation must have been almost worse than the labor of a slave; for, praiseworthy as aspirations after success, arising from the practice of such honest industry, may generally be, they were not of the kind to call forth those talents which subsequently made their possessor president of a college, vice-chancellor of a university, professor in the chair that had been occupied by Newton, dean of a cathedral, and one of the most fascinating conversers of his generation in the country that produced him, and also one of the most celebrated mathematicians and philosophers of his day. He studied, during hours not devoted to work, Greek and Latin books; probably perused on Sundays the “Pilgrim’s Progress,” which was always a source of real pleasure to his spirit; and perhaps even gained some acquaintance with the works of Shakspeare, Milton, and other great English authors, with which he was familiar in his advanced years. He was soon to have larger opportunities and a fitter scene for the refreshment and cultivation of his powerful mind, thirsting for knowledge.
[MILNER RESCUED FROM THE LOOM.]
The rector of the grammar-school had manifested much interest in the young Milners; and they were not quite unaided in their hour of need. By the generous exertions of several kind friends, and the well-timed liberality of others, Joseph, the elder brother, had been sent to Cambridge, and had there so conducted and distinguished himself, that when he left the university the head-mastership of the Hull grammar-school was conferred upon him, principally by the influence of the grandfather of Wilberforce, an appointment which led to a friendship not unimportant in its results to the gentle philanthropist, and to the success of the views he held. And now the heart of Joseph Milner was turned toward the prospects of his brother, and he pondered what could be done to promote his welfare and happiness. He therefore requested one of the clergymen in Leeds to examine the lad, in order to ascertain and report as to his qualifications for becoming usher in the school. The reverend gentleman thus commissioned proceeded to the factory, where he found Milner seated at work with a classical author on each side. An examination fully proved, that though removed for a considerable time from school, his diligence and love of learning had, in the mean time, amply supplied the place of instruction, and that he was quite competent to undertake with propriety, and discharge with credit, the tutorial duties in question. There still remained the important part of the business, which consisted in obtaining to the youth’s leaving the factory the consent of the owner, who, however, does not appear to have been so severe a taskmaster as the imaginary Wodgate Bishop. In any case, after a brief negotiation, he agreed to forego the remaining years of the apprenticeship; and entering the work-place, [he made the heart of young Milner leap with joy] and rejoice at the magic words, “Isaac, lad, thou art off!” In after years, he did not forget the comrades by whose side he had toiled and spun. He was ever really and unaffectedly humble; ready to acknowledge his original companions, and to minister to their necessities if they were poor. He was never ashamed of his juvenile employment, nor had he reason to be so; and when he encountered those who had known or labored with him in obscurity, it was with the same frankness, courtesy, and cordiality, but at the same time with the shrewdness, animation, and intrepidity, with which he met lordly guests at Rose or Lowther Castle. In this way he showed his rare nobility of soul.
Being happily freed from the manual labor which was unsuited to his abilities, Milner repaired straightway to Hull, and proved a most efficient assistant in the institution presided over by his brother. His department in the establishment was the instruction of the younger pupils, among whom he found Wilberforce, who was a lad of spirit, though delicate, and considered so remarkable for his powers of elocution, that it was customary to place him on a table and make him read aloud for the benefit of the other boys. Milner had, years before, besides constructing a sundial, given evidence of a decided bias toward mathematical studies; and he was now, while striving to accomplish himself in the classics, formally initiated into the elements of the science with so much profit, that when the scholars were engaged with lessons in algebra, and any difficulty occurred, the usher was immediately called upon to solve the problem, which he usually did with a promptness and facility not unworthy of one destined to be seated in the Lucasian chair. Joseph Milner had no cause to repent of having saved the talents of his brother from being lost amid the dust, noise, and wheels connected with the preparation of woolen cloth for Russian and German merchants; and he acted toward his gifted relative with exemplary and beneficent kindness. The keen and steady energy with which the latter pursued any object of inquiry that was presented to his attention—a characteristic that sometimes even exposed him to ridicule—was calculated to impart confidence to any attempt made toward his promotion in life; and it was determined that he should, in the year 1770, go to the university at which the reputation of his brother had been formed.
It seems that the elder Milner accompanied the embryo President of Queen’s College to his destination. Their circumstances, as well as economical considerations, led them to adopt, on their long journey, that mode of traveling much more pleasant to contemplate than experience, with which we are in some degree familiar, from the descriptions of those great novelists who flourished in the reign of the second George, and who left such interesting pictures of life and manners as exhibited at the period. They accomplished the distance from Hull to Cambridge on foot, with occasional lifts by the way in a wagon, to recover from fatigue. On their arrival, Isaac was entered at Queen’s College as a sizar, at a time when the privilege, in a pecuniary point of view, which he enjoyed as such, entailed the disagreeable necessity of performing various menial but by no means humiliating duties. Among these was ringing the chapel bell, and serving up the first dish to the fellows at dinner. On one occasion, when so busied, he was luckless enough to overturn a mess of soup on the floor, instead of placing it on the board, and was sharply rebuked for his awkward clumsiness; whereupon he excited much derisive laughter by exclaiming, in the dialect of his native country—“When I get into power, I’ll do away with this nuisance!” The threat, thus expressed on the spur of the moment by the modest and diffident sizar, was more religiously executed than most promises uttered in such a frame of mind; and when raised to academic dignity, he altogether abolished the services of which that he had been rendering formed so irksome and invidious a part.