HERON, ROBERT, a
miscellaneous writer, was born in the town of New Galloway, on the 6th
November, 1764. His father, John Heron, was a weaver, generally
respected for his persevering industry and exemplary piety. By his
grandmother, Margaret Murray, aunt of the late Dr Alexander Murray, he
claimed no very distant relationship to that profound philologist. He
was early instructed in his letters under the careful eye of a fond
parent, and was not sent to the school of the parish until he had
reached his ninth year. He soon became remarkable for the love he showed
for learning, and the unwearied anxiety with which he pursued his
inquiries after every point connected with his studies. This being early
perceived by his parents, they resolved to give him the benefit of a
liberal education as far as their means would allow. He had scarcely
remained two years at school when, at the age of eleven, he contrived to
maintain and educate himself by mingling with his studies the labour of
teaching and writing. From his own savings out of a very limited income,
and a small assistance from his parents, he was enabled to remove to the
university of Edinburgh at the end of the year 1180.
His hopes of preferment
at that time being centered in the church, he first applied himself to
the course of study which that profession requires. While attending the
college he was still obliged to devote a considerable portion of his
time to private teaching, as well as writing occasional essays for
newspapers and magazines, in order to provide for his subsistence. To
quote his own words, "he taught and assisted young persons at all
periods in the course of education, from the alphabet to the highest
branches of science and literature." Being well grounded in a knowledge
of the French language, he found constant employment from booksellers in
translating foreign works. His first literary production, published with
his name, appeared in 1789, "A Critique on the Genius and Writings of
Thomson," prefixed to a small edition of the Seasons. It was highly
spoken of, and reflected much credit on the judgment and taste of the
author. His next work was a version of Fourcroy’s Chemistry, from the
French, followed by Savary’s Travels in Greece, Dumourier’s Letters,
Gesner’s Idyls in part, an abstract of Zimmerman on Solitude, and
several abridgments of Oriental Tales.
In 1790-1, he says he
"read lectures on the law of nature, the law of na.tions, the Jewish,
Grecian, Roman, feudal, and canon law—and then on the several forms of
municipal jurisprudence established in modern Europe;" – these lectures,
he says, were to assist gentlemen who did not study professionally in
the understanding of history. Though he devoted much time and
study to prepare these lectures, he was afterwards unfortunate in not
being able to obtain a sufficient audience to repay him for their
composition - they were consequently soon discontinued. A syllabus of
the entire course was afterwards published. Still the sums of money he
continued to receive from his publishers were amply sufficient to
maintain him in a respectable manner, if managed with prudence and
discretion; but his unfortunate peculiarity of temper, and extravagant
desire of supporting a style of living which nothing but a liberal and
certain income would admit of, frequently reduced him to distress, and
finally to the jail. He might have long remained in confinement, but
that some worthy friends interceded; and, on their suggestion, he
engaged himself to write a History of Scotland, for which Messrs
Morrisons of Perth were to pay him at the rate of three guineas a sheet,
his creditors, at the same time, agreeing to release him for fifteen
shillings in the pound, to be secured on two thirds of the copyright;
before this arrangement was fully concluded, melancholy to relate,
nearly the whole of the first volume of the History of Scotland was
written in jail. It appeared in 1793, and one volume of the work was
published every year successively, until the whole six were completed.
During that period he went on a tour through the western parts of
Scotland, and from notes taken on the road, he compiled a work in two
volumes octavo, called "A Journey through the Western Parts of
Scotland." He also gave to the world, "A Topographical Account of
Scotland," "A New and Complete System of Universal Geography," "A Memoir
of Robert Burns," besides many contributions to magazines and other
periodical works. He was also engaged by Sir John Sinclair, to
superintend the publication of his Statistical Account of Scotland. By
this time he had acquired great facility in the use of his pen, and,
being extremely vain of the versatility of his genius, he flattered
himself there was no range in literature, however high, that was not
within the scope of his powers. Impressed with these ideas, he made an
attempt at dramatic composition, and having some influence with the
manager of the theatre, he contrived to get introduced on the
stage an after-piece, written, as he says, in great haste, called, "St
Kilda in Edinburgh; or, News from Camperdown;"—but as if to verify the
adage, "Things done in a haste are never done well," so it turned out
with St Kilda. Being devoid of every thing like interest, and violating
in many parts the common rules of decency, it was justly condemned
before it reached the second act.
Our author’s vanity must
have on this occasion received a deep wound, being present in the house
at the time;—overwhelmed with disappointment, he flew to his lodgings
and confined himself to bed for several days. Still blinded by vanity in
the midst of his mental sufferings, he imputed the failure of his play
to the machinations of his enemies. He therefore determined on "shaming
the rogues" by printing. It is needless to say, it neither sold nor was
talked of. The most amusing part of this affair was the mode in which he
persisted in forcing his production on the public. We shall present our
readers with an extract, from his highly inflated preface. It commences
with a quotation from Sterne’s Tristram Shandy. "The learned bishop Hall
tells us in one of his decades, at the end of his Divine Meditations,
that it is an abominable thing for a man to commend himself, and
verily I think so; and yet, on the other hand, when a thing is executed
in a masterly kind of fashion, which thing is not likely to be
found out, I think it is fully as abominable that a man should lose the
honour of it. This is exactly my situation." In the following he quotes
Swift:— "When a true genius appears in the world, you may know
him by this sign—that the dunces are all in confederacy against
him." Yet, though blinded by folly and weighed down by distress, still
his filial affections were alive, and, although he could not afford his
parents any permanent support, he seemed anxious to promote the
education of their family; which the following extracts from his letters
will sufficiently prove:
"I hope by living more
pious and carefully, by managing my income frugally, and appropriating a
part of it to the service of you and my sisters, and by living with you
in future at least a third part of the year, to reconcile your
affections more entirely to me, and give you more comfort than I have
yet done. Oh forget and forgive my follies; look on me as a son who will
anxiously strive to comfort and please you, and, after all your
misfortunes, to render the evening of your days as happy as possible."
And again,—"We will endeavour," says he, "to settle our dear Grace
comfortably in life, and to educate our dear little Betty and Mary
aright." He brought his eldest brother, John, to Edinburgh, to study at
the university, with the view of his entering the church; he was a youth
of promising abilities, but of weak constitution, and sank into an early
grave in 1790. As the other children increased in years, faithful to his
promise, he brought his favourite sister, Mary, to live with him in
Edinburgh to complete her education. His irregularities, and consequent
embarrassments, made her situation in town any thing but an enviable
one. Her mortifications, however, in this life were not of long
duration, as she died at his lodgings in 1798. To a mind of his quick
sensibility this was a dreadful shock. Almost frantic with grief at the
loss he experienced, he gave himself up to the wildest despair: every
unkind action or word he made use of towards her rushed to his
distracted memory, until life itself was almost insupportable. Neither
the sympathy of friends, nor the consolations of religion, could
mitigate his woes. At the same time his means of subsistence became
every day more precarious; his literary labours were ceasing to
pay, so that, added to his other misfortunes, starvation and a jail were
hourly staring him in the face. Shunning as much as possible all his
former companions, he might now be seen wandering about the suburbs of
the city, with wasted cheek and sunken eye, a miserable victim of want
and care. By degrees, however, he was recalled to a better state of
mind, when, finding his views not likely to succeed any longer in
Scotland, he was induced to go to London in 1799. For the first few
years of his residence there, it appears he found good employment, and
his application to study being very great, his profits and prospects
were alike cheering. In a letter written to his father about the
time we are speaking of, he says -
"My whole income, earned
by full sixteen hours a-day of close application to reading,
writing, observation, and study, is but very little more than three
hundred pounds a-year. But this is sufficient to my wants, and is
earned in a manner which I know to be the most useful and
honourable—that is, by teaching beneficial truths, and discountenancing
vice and folly more effectually and more extensively than I could in any
other way. This I am here always sure to earn, while I can give the
necessary application; and if I were able to execute more literary
labour I might readily obtain more money."
He for a time pursued his
literary vocations with an unwearied industry, and there was scarcely a
publication then in London of any note but contained some of his
fugitive writings. He realized in consequence a good income, but,
unfortunately, for no great length of time. His former bad habits
returned, and while money continued to flow in, he indulged in
the wildest extravagance. Wishing to be thought an independent man of
fortune, he would carry his folly so far as at times to
keep a pair of horses, with a groom in livery. All this time his pen was
laid aside; and until warned of his fate by the appearance of his last
shilling, he seemed altogether devoid of reflection. Then he would
betake himself to his work, as an enthusiast in every thing, confining
himself for weeks to his chamber, dressed only in his shirt and morning
gown, and commonly with a green veil over his eyes, which were weak, and
inflamed by such fits of ill regulated study.
In 1806, he addressed a
letter to Mr Wilberforce on the justice and expediency of the Slave
Trade. He wrote a short system of Chemistry, and a few months
previous to his death he published a small work called the Comforts
of Life, which, it appears, met with a ready sale.
The last years of his
life were spent in the deepest misery. His friends and associates by
degrees deserted him; some offended at his total want of steadiness,
others worn out by constant importunities, and not a few disgusted at
the vanity and envy he displayed on too many occasions; added to all
this, his employers found they could place no dependence on his
promises, as he would only resume his pen when urged to it by stern
necessity, so that he found at last, it was with great difficulty he
could procure even a scanty subsistence. Deep in debt, and harassed by
his creditors, who were all exasperated at his constant want of faith,
he was at last consigned to the jail of Newgate, where he dragged on a
miserable existence for many months. From that vile prison he
wrote the following pathetic appeal to the Literary Fund, which we
derive from a most appropriate source, D’Israeli’s " Calamities
of Authors."
"Ever since I was eleven
years of age I have mingled with my studies the labour of teaching or
writing to support and educate myself. During about twenty years, while
I was in constant and occasional attendance at the university of
Edinburgh, I taught and assisted young persons at all periods in the
course of education, from the alphabet to the highest branches of
science and literature. I read lectures on the law of nature, the
law of nations, the Jewish, the Grecian, the Roman, and the canon law,
and then on the feudal law, and on the several forms of municipal
jurisprudence established in modern Europe. I printed a Syllabus of
these lectures, which was approved; they were as introductory to the
professional study of law, and to assist gentlemen who did not study it
professionally, in the understanding of history. I translated Fourcroy’s
Chemistry twice, Savary’s Travels in Greece, Dumourier’s Letters,
Gesner’s Idyls in part, an abstract of Zimmerman on Solitude, and a
great diversity of smaller pieces. I wrote a journey through the western
parts of Scotland, which has passed through two editions; a History of
Scotland in six volumes 8vo; a topographical account of Scotland, which
has been several times reprinted; a number of communications in the
Edinburgh Magazine; many prefaces and critiques. A Memoir of the Life of
Burns, which suggested and promoted the subscription for his family, has
been reprinted, and formed the basis of Dr Currie’s life of him, as I
learned by a letter from the Doctor to one of his friends; a variety of
jeux d’esprit, in verse and prose, and many abridgments of large
works. In the beginning of 1799, I was encouraged to come to
London. Here I have written a great multiplicity of articles in almost
every branch of literature, my education in Edinburgh having
comprehended them all. The London Review, the Agricultural Magazine, the
Universal Magazine, the Anti-Jacobin Review, the Public Characters, the
Annual Necrology, with several other periodical works, contain many of
my communications. In such of these publications as have been received,
I can show that my anonymous pieces have been distinguished with very
high praise. I have written also a short system of Chemistry, and I
published a few weeks since a small work called the Comfort of Life,
of which the first edition was sold in one week, and the second
edition is now in rapid sale. In the newspapers—The Oracle, The
Porcupine, when it existed, The General Evening Post, The Morning Post,
The British Press, The Courier, &c. I have published my reports of the
debates in parliament, and I believe a greater variety of fugitive
pieces than I know to have been written by any one person. I have
written also a great variety of compositions in Latin and French, in
favour of which I have been honoured with the testimonials of liberal
approbation.
"I have invariably
written to serve the cause of religion and morality, pious Christian
education, and good order in the most direct manner. I have considered
what I have written as mere trifles, and I have incessantly studied to
qualify myself for something better. I can prove that I have for many
years read and written one day with another from twelve to sixteen hours
a-day. As a human being I have not been free from follies and errors;
but the tenor of my life has been temperate, laborious, humble, quiet,
and, to the utmost of my power, beneficent. I can prove the general
tenor of my writings to be candid, and ever adapted to exhibit the most
favourable views of the abilities, dispositions, and exertions of
others. For the last ten months I have been brought to the very
extremity of bodily and pecuniary distress.
"I shudder at the thoughts of
perishing in a jail.
"92, Chancery Lane,
"92, Chancery Lane, Feb. 2d. 1807.
(In confinement.)"
His life was now fast
drawing to a close. With a mind bowed down by want and despair, and a
body emaciated from increasing disease, he was incapable of farther
exertion; and being removed to an hospital as his last and only hope, in
one week after his entrance there, he breathed his last, on the 13th of
April, 1807, without a friend to console or assist him. Thus perished
Robert Heron in the prime of life, with talents and acquirements of a
very rare description, which, if governed by prudence, were eminently
calculated to gain for him an honourable independence in the world. It
is difficult to estimate the true depth of his genius by his
miscellaneous publications in prose; his style was of a mixed
description,—sometimes pompous and declamatory, at other times chaste
and elegant. But it must be considered he was seldom allowed the choice
of a subject, being all his life under the dictates of a publisher. [A
speciment of the writings of this extraordinary genius is given in the
present work, under the head "Robert Burns."] He composed with great
rapidity, and seldom made any corrections but in his proof sheets. His
appearance was at most times impressive and dignified; his figure, above
the middle size, stately and erect, and his countenance had a benevolent
expression, though pale and care-worn from study and confinement.
With all his faults he
had still many redeeming virtues; and above all a strong sense of the
respect which is due to religion and morality. In a diary of his life,
kept at various times, which contains a free confession of his
sentiments, he has recorded, that, in whatever manner he spent the day,
he never closed his eyes at night without humbling himself in prayer
before the throne of the Most High.
The brief memoir of this
accomplished scholar affords another striking instance of the
impossibility of shielding genius from poverty and disgrace when blinded
by passion, or perverted by eccentricity. |