The leisure time which Watt did not occupy with miscellaneous work of this sort, he spent in reading. He did not want for books, as the College library was near at hand; and the professors as well as students were willing to lend him from their stores. He was not afraid of solid, heavy, dry books, provided he could learn something from them. All were alike welcome; and one of his greatest pleasures was in devouring a novel, when it fell in his way. He is even said to have occupied himself in writing tales and verses when he had nothing else to do. As none of his attempts have been preserved, we cannot offer an opinion upon them; but it is doubtful whether Watt’s poetry and fiction would display the same originality and power of invention as his steam-engine. The only youthful exercises of his which have been preserved are anything but poetical. One of them, at Heathfield, is a ‘Treatise on Practical Megethometry;’ and another is a ‘Compendium of Definitions,’ in Latin, by Gerard de Vries, both written in a neat round hand.
Like most of the Glasgow citizens of that time, Watt occasionally visited his club, where he cultivated the society of men of greater culture and experience than himself.[72] As he afterwards observed to a friend, “Our conversations then, besides the usual subjects with young men, turned principally on literary topics, religion, morality, belles-lettres, &c.; and to those conversations my mind owed its first bias towards such subjects, in which they were all much my superiors, I never having attended a college, and being then but a mechanic.”
There was another circumstance connected with his situation at this time which must have been peculiarly agreeable to a young man of his character, aspirations, and thirst for knowledge. His shop, being conveniently situated within the College, was a favourite resort of the professors and the students. They were attracted by the ingenious instruments and models which the shop contained, and the pleasure always felt in witnessing the proceedings of a skilful mechanic at his work, but more particularly by the easy, unaffected, and original conversation of Watt himself. Though a comparative youth, the professors were usually glad to consult him on points of mechanical knowledge and practice; and the acuteness of his observation, the accuracy of his knowledge, and the readiness with which he communicated what he knew, soon rendered him a general favourite. Among his most frequent visitors were Dr. Joseph Black, the distinguished professor of chemistry, who there contracted a friendship with Watt which lasted, uninterrupted, for a period of forty years, until the Doctor’s death; Professor Simson, one of the most eminent men of his day, whom Lord Brougham has described as the restorer of the science of geometry; Dr. Dick, the Professor of Natural Philosophy; and Professor Anderson.[73] Dr. Moor and Dr. Adam Smith were also frequent callers. But of all Watt’s associates, none is more closely connected with his name and history than John Robison, then a student at Glasgow College, and afterwards Professor of Natural Philosophy at Edinburgh.
Robison was nearer Watt’s age than the rest, and stood in the intimate relation to him of bosom friend, as well as fellow inquirer in science. He was handsome and prepossessing in appearance, frank and lively, full of fancy and humour, and a general favourite in the College. He was a capital talker, an accomplished linguist, and a good musician; yet, with all his versatility, he was a profound thinker and a diligent student, especially in mathematical and mechanical science, as he afterwards proved in his elaborate ‘System of Mechanical Philosophy,’ edited by Sir David Brewster, and his many able contributions to the ‘Encyclopædia Britannica,’ of which he was the designer and editor.
Robison’s introduction to Watt has been described by himself. After feasting his eyes on the beautifully-finished instruments in his shop, Robison entered into conversation with him. Expecting to find only a workman, he was surprised to discover a philosopher. “I had the vanity,” says Robison, “to think myself a pretty good proficient in my favourite study (mathematical and mechanical philosophy), and was rather mortified at finding Mr. Watt so much my superior. But his own high relish for these things made him pleased with the chat of any person who had the same tastes with himself; and his innate complaisance made him indulge my curiosity, and even encourage my endeavours to form a more intimate acquaintance with him. I lounged much about him, and, I doubt not, was frequently teasing him. Thus our acquaintance began.”
In Watt’s workshop also, Robison first met Dr. Black, and there initiated a friendship which ended only with death. “My first acquaintance with him,” Robison afterwards wrote Watt, “began in your rooms when you were rubbing up Macfarlane’s instruments. He used to come in, and, standing with his back to us, amuse himself with Bird’s quadrant, whistling softly to himself, in a manner that thrilled me to the heart.”
In 1757 Robison applied for the office of assistant to Dr. Dick, Professor of Natural Philosophy, in the place of the son of that gentleman, who had just died; but though he had already taken the degree of Master of Arts, he was thought too young to hold so important an office, being only about nineteen years old. His friends wished him to study for the church; but, preferring some occupation in which his mechanical tastes might be indulged, he turned his eyes to London. Furnished with letters from Professor Dick and Dr. Simson, he obtained an introduction to Admiral Knowles, who engaged him to take charge of his son’s instruction while at sea. In that capacity he sailed from Spithead in 1759, with the fleet which assisted the land forces in the taking of Quebec; he and his pupil being rated as midshipmen in the Admiral’s ship. Robison was on duty in the boat which carried Wolfe to the point where the army scaled the heights of Montcalm the night before the battle; and as the sun was setting in the west, the General, doubtless from an association of ideas suggested by the dangers of the coming struggle, recited, in an under tone, Gray’s ‘Elegy on a Country Churchyard;’ and when he had finished, said, “Now, gentlemen, I would rather have been the author of that poem than take Quebec.”
When Robison returned from his voyagings in 1763, a travelled man,—having had the advantage, during his absence, of acting as confidential assistant of Admiral Knowles in his marine surveys and observations,—he reckoned himself more than on a par with Watt; but he soon found that, during the period of his absence from Glasgow, his friend had been even busier than himself. When they entered into conversation, he found Watt continually striking into new paths where he was obliged to be his follower. The extent of the mathematical instrument maker’s investigations was no less remarkable than the depth to which he had pursued them. Not only had he mastered the principles of engineering, civil and military, but diverged into studies in antiquity, natural history, languages, criticism, and art. Every pursuit became science in his hands, and he made use of his subsidiary knowledge for the purpose of helping him towards his favourite objects.
Before long, Watt became to be regarded as one of the ablest men about college. “When to the superiority of knowledge in his own line,” said Robison, “which every man confessed, there was joined the naïve simplicity and candour of his character, it is no wonder that the attachment of his acquaintances was so strong. I have seen something of the world,” he continued, “and I am obliged to say that I never saw such another instance of general and cordial attachment to a person whom all acknowledged to be their superior. But this superiority was concealed under the most amiable candour, and liberal allowance of merit to every man. Mr. Watt was the first to ascribe to the ingenuity of a friend things which were very often nothing but his own surmises followed out and embodied by another. I am well entitled to say this, and have often experienced it in my own case.”
There are few traits in biography more charming than this generous recognition of merit mutually attributed by the one friend to the other. Arago, in quoting the words of Robison, has well observed that it is difficult to determine whether the honour of having thus recorded them be not as great as that of having inspired them.