Of his very early years, I am unable to supply the public with any information, and I regret it,—not that any very important lesson of utility can be derived from the anecdotes of childhood, but they are amusing, and amusing without harm; and I agree with Dr. West
that he has a very imperfect knowledge of human nature who is not convinced, that in a state of refined society, it is impossible to amuse innocently. All that I have been able to learn distinctly, is, that the most playful vivacity, and the same good humour, which ever after accompanied him even in the keenest rivalry of the bar, displayed itself in his words and actions, and made him the delight of all, but those who morose and splenetic, from their own disgust of existence, conceive offence at others for that enjoyment of the present, which can only subsist upon ignorance, and the hope of the future that must be disappointed. To this vivacity, he, perhaps, owed as much as to those endowments, which are deemed more solid qualifications for the bar. It imparted itself to his eye, his mouth, his tone, and his action, and held his hearers engaged, when his periods were such as pronounced by an ordinary speaker, would not have preserved the audience from that listnessness, which is instantly seen and felt by the speaker, and soon adds embarrassment and confusion to feebleness. In private society, to the last months of his existence, it gave him rather the air of a youth inexperienced in the realities of life, and entering it under the ardour of hope, than of a man who had almost reached the limits of human existence, in the exercise of a profession, which lays the human breast naked to inspection. It was said of Pope, from his primitive habits of reflection and gravity, that he was never young; and, on the contrary, it may be said with equal justice, from the playfulness and vivacity of Erskine, that he was never old. At the age of he entered the navy as a midshipman, and served in the ---, commanded by Captain ---, in America. While in this station he was employed in making a
survey under one of the lieutenants of the ship, off the coast of Florida. He had some acquaintance with geometry; and, as he tells us himself in his “Armata,” always retained a fondness for that science. Whether this fondness grew in acquiring the knowledge of navigation, indispensable to his profession, or subsequently at the university in which it forms so much the greater part of education, I am ignorant; but that he was versed to a degree both in geometry and astronomy, is evident, from the work I have named, and some pieces of his poetry, which I have had access to. The cause that led him to leave the navy and enter the army is unknown; it is most likely to have been disgust and impatience of the subordination, which in our fleets is rigid in the extreme, and never softened by that alternation of social intercourse, at a common table at which in the army, all the officers of the regiment meet daily, and from which they rise with a feeling, not only that insulting and overbearing command upon duty would be a violation of an implied pledge of kindness, but injury to themselves, as diminishing in the gloom that would spread over their next meeting, the common stock of enjoyment. The condition of our naval service is, in some respects, improved since Erskine was a member of it; but then all knowledge beyond that of the conduct of a ship, was deemed unnecessary, impertinent, and even adverse to the attainment of nautical skill. The intercourse of the officers even on the shore, was confined almost entirely to one another, for not to speak of the uncouthness of their habits, which made them as incapable of mingling in society on land, as the beings of their element on which their avocation lay, are of living in the air, their language
was technical to a degree that rendered it to all, except themselves, almost unintelligible. With such persons for companions, and to use Terence’s expression, quotidian and tedious sameness of a life at sea, we need look no further for Erskine’s desire to change his profession. When we consider the great capacity which he possessed for observation, and his extraordinary power of combining the knowledge that he so acquired, the period which he gave to the naval service must have been, to a spirit so active, a period of painful constraints. I remember that in a conversation upon Lord Erskine, with Mr. Capel Loft, after enumerating the many great causes in which the great advocate had been engaged, he exclaimed, “what an infinite multitude of ideas must have passed through that man’s mind.” The remark is not an empty one; I doubt whether there ever was a man who exercised the faculty of reasoning more, who drew a greater number of distinct conclusions, or whose materials of thought were more the collection and property of his own observation. Cicero, in his speech for Archias, appeals to the judges whether he could possibly supply the demands upon him for daily exertions of eloquence, unless he assidiously refreshed his mind with studies, in which he was assisted by Archias and other rhetoricians, and that he read copiously is manifested in all his works. The accomplished academician, the able balancer of the different schools of philosophy and morals, and the studied Rhetor is obtruded upon us. He was, in every sense of the term, learned; Erskine, on the contrary, cannot be discovered by any of his speeches, or writings, to have read much, and most probably had read very little. He was in no sense of the word learned. He has, indeed by acuteness of observation,
vigour of combination, and the ready power of deduction that he possessed, been able to produce and leave behind him what will become the learning of others, but he was not learned himself. His qualities, from his earliest years were quickness and acuteness, unchecked and insatiable curiosity, retentive memory, and busy reflection; his mind was never still. In the coffee-room he conversed and indulged in humour with all round him. However important or heavy the causes which were to occupy him in court, they never oppressed his mind with a load of anxiety; his was not like ordinary minds under great affairs, so absorbed that he could perceive nothing round him; his, till the hour of solemn exertion arrived, was disengaged and indulged in pleasantry; after the toil of the day, the passion of eloquence and the intensity of technical argument, he was full of spirits and waggery at dinner and in the evening. And light as his topics sometimes were, his thoughts were always distinct, and his expressions full; you never from him heard any imperfect thoughts expressed, that (like tadpoles, before they are complete, must go through other processes of animation) required the exertion of your own conceptions to attain their sense and spirit. The activity of his mind was like that of the swallow, which either in sport or pursuit is upon the wing for ever. With this character it may readily be believed that young Erskine received his discharge with feelings like those that attend the cessation of a long and painful disease from a state which called for no exercise of his great talents, and, neither yielded scope for the communication of his own attainments nor opportunity to increase them from the communications of others.
He became an ensign of the Royals and married not long
after. He was sent with his corps to the Mediterranean, and stationed either with his regiment or a detachment of his regiment, at Minorca; there, under the influence of an ardent feeling of religion, which he owed to the anxious inculcations of his mother, from whom he received the rudiments of education, he is said in the absence of the chaplain, to have composed more than one sermon, and to have delivered them to the assembled officers and privates of his regiment. It never occurred to me to ask him whether there was truth in this report; but he has frequently talked to me of anecdotes which were circulated of him, some of which he confirmed while he contradicted others, and never spoke of this as unfounded; from my knowledge of his character it is highly probable, and I believe it is true. About three years ago he was at Tunbridge Wells with Mr. Coutts, and while there, pointed out to a friend of mine a building, and said, “There, when it was a public room, I preached a sermon of my own composition to the company;” this was for a wager. He returned to England in 17-- with his regiment, the father of three children. The anxiety of his mother, whose affections and care for her family rendered her most estimable, and have endeared her memory to her descendants, was excited by Thomas, who had nothing but his pay for the support of his wife and his children, likely soon to become more numerous. Her prudence suggested to her another profession for him by the gains of which he might avoid the destitution which she saw hanging over his head. With this design, she sent for Mr. Adam, the barrister (now the Commissioner of the Scotch jury courts), that she might receive the assistance of his experience and advice. On his arrival she said, “My son Tom has been thoughtless enough to
marry a woman without fortune, and she has brought him a family which he cannot support himself, nor I for him,—what is to be done? And I have been thinking that he must sell his commission, go to the bar, and be Lord Chancellor.” It is interesting to reflect, that while this excellent woman was endeavouring to conceal the bitterness of an affectionate mother’s anguish for her son’s imprudence, she was unconsciously pronouncing a prophecy. Nor will it be less to see how trifling an event would have prevented its accomplishment; Mr. Adam told her that there were a great many steps from the entrance of the profession and the very high rank which she purposed, many of which he should be happy to congratulate her son on attaining. The conference proceeded, the obstacles to success at the bar were weighed against the certainty of domestic calamities if he remained in his present profession, and they parted, both of opinion, that in the direction of the bar, Thomas Erskine was most likely to leave behind his present embarrassment and reach prosperity. It remained, however, to procure the consent of her son; that was not easy: he had no predilection for the bar, and was attached to the army, and his regiment, to the officers of which his sprightly and amiable manners had endeared him, and in which he was soliciting promotion and expecting it. At last, however, his conditional consent was drawn from him. He agreed to let his mother dispose of him as she wished, if he should be unsuccessful in his application for the vacant captaincy in the Royals. This was far from satisfying his mother, but he was peremptory, and she could not induce him to more positive terms; thus, if Erskine could have gained the rank of captain in the Royals, the destination of which was, then, an
American colony, by which he might have gained the privilege of being scalped by the savages, or perishing in the swamps or forests of North America, the country would never have known that splendid eloquence, which is its boast and its pride; Tooke, Thelwall, Hardy, and the rest of those unfortunate men who were held so long under the terror of death, would probably have been hanged, and the country oppressed by a gloomy precedent of constructive treason, under which no man who has raised himself in opposition to a corrupt and sinister government could have been safe; one is inclined to shudder, like a man whom a shot has missed only by the breadth of a hair, in contemplating how near so much danger was incurred, and so much benefit lost. But it is not on the magnitude, but continuity of the chain, that great results depend; on examining the past, we shall find that as small a link struck out at one point or other of succession, would have disappointed the most important events of history. Happily for Erskine and his country, his claims from the merit of his services were eluded, and though he was more urgent in his applications, since the alternative was to be the bar, he was refused promotion. There was a singular coincidence in the fortune of the late Lord Chatham and Erskine: the former was sent into parliament and driven into violent opposition to Sir Robert Walpole, because that minister had deprived him of a company of horse, and dismissed him the service, an act of which the minister had reason to repent. He was like the emblem of envy with the recoiled dart in his own bosom; except Charles I., who stopped Hampden and Cromwell from embarking upon the Thames to follow liberty into the wilderness of America, no man had ever so much reason
to curse himself for his own acts. In the same manner a slight of Erskine’s claims to promotion sent him to display an eloquence that had never yet been heard at the English bar. His fame as an advocate, drew the notice of the Whig party on him; he was enlisted in their ranks and added an importance to the opposition, which not unfrequently increased the embarrassment of the minister. While he was held in suspense by those who had the disposal of commissions, he was quartered at Maidstone, and entering the court during the assizes there, was placed in his military uniform upon the bench, beside the great Lord Mansfield, to whom he was distantly related, and who at intervals of business, conversed with him on the proposed change of arms for the gown. This was another of the accidents which, by minds of a certain frame would be regarded as an omen. After relating this anecdote, he added, “Only four years from that time, I was at the place in the lead of that very circuit.” All his hopes of promotion at an end, the commission so unequal to the demands for subsistance upon it, was disposed of, and he was at once entered a student of the Law Society of Lincoln’s Inn, and a Commoner at --- College, Cambridge