Memoir of

Carl Linnæus

Botany—Zoology

1707–1778

Written by Jardine

Originally published in volume 1, The Natural History of Humming-Birds, Part I.

Anecdotes of Linnæus

All authentic particulars, which can contribute to a stricter knowledge of the life, character, and peculiarities of a man who has rendered himself as eminent and as immortal as Linnæus, cannot fail to prove agreeable and interesting. We shall therefore subjoin here those anecdotes which Professor Fabricius of Kiel, one of his most celebrated pupils, has collected respecting him.

Fabricius, relates, namely from 1762 till 1764

For two whole years, have 1 been so fortunate as to enjoy his instruction, his guidance and his confidential friendship. Not a day elapsed, on which I did not see him, on which I was not either present at his lectures, or as it frequently happened, spent several hours with him in familiar conversation. In summer we followed him into the country. We were three, Khun, Zoega, and I, all foreigners. In winter we lived directly facing his house, and he came to us almost every day, in his short red robe de chambre, with a green fur cap on his head and a pipe in his hand. He came for half an hour, but stopped a whole one, and many times two. His conversation on these occasions was extremely sprightly and pleasant. It either consisted in anecdotes relative to the learned in his profession, with whom he got acquainted in foreign countries, or in clearing up our doubts, or giving us other kinds of instruction. He used to laugh then most heartily, and displayed a serenity and an openness of countenance, which proved how much his soul was susceptible of amity and good fellowship.

Our life was much happier when we resided in the country. Our habitation was about half a quarter of a league distant from his house at Hammarby, in a farm where we kept our own furniture and other requisites for housekeeping. He rose very early in summer, and mostly about four o’clock. At six he came to us because his house was then building, breakfasted with us, and gave lectures upon the natural order of plants (ordines nalurales plantarum), as long as he pleased, and generally till about ten o’clock. We then wandered about till twelve upon the adjacent rocks, the productions of which afforded us plenty of entertainment. In the afternoon we repaired to his garden, and in the evening we mostly played at the Swedish game of trissett, in company with his spouse.

On Sundays the whole family usually came to spend the day with us. We sent for a peasant who played on an instrument resembling a violin, at the sound of which we danced in the barn of our farmhouse. Our balls were certainly not very splendid, the company but small, the music superlatively rustic, and no change in the dances, which were constantly either minuets or Polish; but regardless of these wants, we passed our time very merrily. While we were dancing, the old man, who smoked his pipe with Zoega, who was deformed by nature, and emaciated, became a spectator of our amusement, and sometimes, though very rarely, danced a Polish dance, in which he excelled every one of us young men. He was extremely delighted whenever he saw us in high glee, nay, if we even became very noisy; had he not always found us so, he would have manifested his apprehensions lest we should not be sufficiently entertained. Those days, those hours, shall never be erased from my memory, and every remembrance of them is grateful to my heart!

What made him so excessively kind towards us was, because we were foreigners, and besides some Russians who did not bestow great pains upon their studies, we also were those who alone adhered to him, who alone heard and attended him, and remained at Upsal entirely on his account. He found that we loved his science, and that we proved this love by a most zealous application to its different pursuits. He felt, therefore, great pleasure in convincing his own countrymen, that his science would be esteemed abroad, even when it should begin to decline in Sweden. He was also fond of conversation on all subjects relative to natural history, for which he had but too little opportunity at Upsal. That science almost entirely engrossed his speech, and every thought of his mind; and being the only naturalist then at that university, such a privation must have occasioned to him a great deal of irksomeness.

When I got acquainted with Sir Charles Linnæus, who was then in his fifty-sixth year, increasing age had already furrowed his front with wrinkles. His countenance was open, almost constantly serene, and bore great resemblance to his portrait in the Species Plantarum, But his eyes,—of all the eyes I ever saw,—were the most beautiful. They certainly were but little, but darted a refulgent splendour and a penetration of aspect which I never observed before in any other man. It sometimes appeared to me, as if his looks would penetrate through the very innermost recesses of the heart.

His mind was remarkably noble and elevated, though I well know that some persons accused him of several faults; the acuteness and energy of his mental faculties, even shone through his eyes. But his greatest excellence consisted in the systematical order by which his thoughts succeeded each other. Whatever he said or did was faithful to order, to truth, and to regularity. In his youth his memory was uncommonly vigorous, but it began to sink early into decay. Even when I was with him, he could not sometimes remember the names of his dearest friends and relatives. I still recollect to have seen him once very much embarrassed, when, after writing a letter to Moræus, his father in-law, at Fahlun, he almost found it impossible to recollect his name.

His passions were strong and violent. His heart was open to every impression of joy; and he loved jocularity, conviviality and good living. He was an excellent companion, pleasant in conversation, full of strong hits of fancy and seasonable and entertaining stories; but at the same time, suddenly roused to anger and boisterous the sudden effervescence of this fiery passion subsided, however, almost at the very moment of its birth, and he immediately became all plain good-nature again. His friendship was sure and invariable. Science was generally its basis; and every one who knew him must own what concern he always manifested for his pupils, and with how much zeal they returned his friendship, and frequently became his defenders. He was so fortunate as to find among his favourites none that were ungrateful; even Rolander deserved more to be pitied than blamed.

The ambition of Linnæus knew no bounds; and his motto, Famam Extendere Factis, was the real mirror of his soul.1 But this ambition never extended beyond the regions of his science, and it never degenerated into surly or offensive pride. He certainly did not care much for the opinion of his cotemporaries, and only heeded that which proceeded from those who were men of genuine literary merit. His way of living was moderate and parsimonious, his dress plain, and oftentimes even shabby. The high rank to which his King had raised him, pleased him only as far as he considered it as a proof of his scientific greatness.

In the pursuits of his studies he could but ill brook contradiction and opposition. He corrected his works agreeable to the just remarks of his friends, whose hints he received with gratitude;—but the attacks of his opponents he despised, and instead of answering, he consigned them to that obscurity and oblivion in which they have long ago been buried. Notwithstanding this, he could not easily forgive aggressions, and strained every nerve to erase them from the annals of literature. He was liberal in dispensing praise, because he was fond of being flattered; and this, indeed, may be considered as his greatest foible. At the same time, his ambition was founded upon the consciousness of his own greatness, and upon the merits which he acquired in a science, over which he had for so many years wielded the sceptre of sovereignty. Tournefort, as he often told me, was his pattern in his youth; he did all he could to equal him, and found at last, that he had left Tournefort at a great distance beneath him.

Linnæus has been particularly charged with avarice. It cannot be denied, that his way of living, considering his good circumstances, was very moderate, and that he surely did not despise gold. But if I weigh in my mind, those extremes of poverty, which so long and so heavily overwhelmed him, I can easily account for this parsimony. But I could not say that his frugality ever degenerated into sordid avarice. I can even prove quite the contrary by my own experience. After having given us lectures all the summer round, we were not only obliged to urge him to receive the fee due for these lectures, but even to leave the money slyly upon his chest, as he had signified his resolution not to take it, in a final and peremptory manner.

He was not quite happy and comfortable in his own family. His wife was tall, robust, domineering, selfish, and destitute of every advantage of a good education. She frequently robbed us of the joys which gilded our social moments. Unable to hold any conversation in decent company, she consequently was never much fond of it herself.

Under those disadvantages, the education of the children of Linnæus could not but be of an inferior description. The young ladies, his daughters, are all good-tempered, but rough children of nature, and deprived of those external accomplishments which they might have derived from a better education. The younger Linnæus, who succeeded his father in his professorship at Upsal, is certainly not endowed with the same vivacity; but the great knowledge which he acquired by a constant practice of botany, and by the many and excellent observations of his parent which he found in his manuscripts, must have rendered him a very useful man there. The eldest daughter, who married Capt. Von Bergencranz, returned afterwards to her parents, and lived constantly in their house.

The merits of Linnæus in the sciences are uncommonly great. He not only enriched them considerably himself, but formed also a great number of pupils of the greatest scientific eminence. He found means, partly by the charming method of delivering his lectures, partly by his excursions and friendly demeanour, to inspire them with a love of Natural History, which they always preserved afterwards, and which induced them to undertake long and important travels and voyages, and to enrich their science at home by valuable tracts and observations. But few were those teachers, who had the good fortune to form so great a number of disciples, who all contributed in some measure to extend the limits of their science; and there is no country but Sweden, which ever sent out so many travellers to make discoveries in Natural History.—Linnæus was also my teacher, and I acknowledge with emotion, how greatly indebted I am to him for his lessons and his friendship.

Besides the labour which he bestowed upon medicine, especially upon the Materia Medica and Pathology, Nature was his principal occupation, and proclaimed him also as the first darling of his time. Great was he in discerning and arranging the immensity of beings which cover the globe; and perhaps greater still in the extraordinary number of observations, and in the hypotheses which are founded upon them, and gradually became theoretical truths. The hypotheses of Linnæus indicate most particularly the brilliancy of his imagination, and at the same time, the strength of his judgment. Some of them appear extremely bold and venturesome at first; but upon closer inspection, we find the observations in Nature on which they are founded, and must acknowledge them afterwards, if not as true, at least as probable and as deserving of a more minute inquiry.

Among his manuscripts there must certainly have been found many important remarks; I should have been very desirous of seeing those which relate to the general arrangement of Nature. He must have collected the most interesting observations on this head. He contemplated Nature with the greatest accuracy, and with so much knowledge and judicious skill, as to have penetrated into her most secret mysteries. But he dared not, as he himself assured me, publish those observations during his life, because he was afraid of the excessive violence of the Swedish divines, who, frequently too faithful and too bigotted to their own arguments, do not consider, that Nature as well as Revelation, proclaim, in unison of principle, the hands of that Great Master who formed both. Linnæus had the example of his pupil Forskal before his eyes, who immediately after his return from Goettingen, saw himself involved in so many theological disputes, as would, perhaps, have been carried too far, had he not left the field of litigation, by setting out on his voyage to Arabia.

Linnæus knew how to secure to himself, even in his earlier days, that dominion over the three reigns of Nature, which he preserved till death.

In mineralogy his very countrymen entered the lists of contention against him. He certainly was often attacked and censured with injustice; and the little inaccuracies, which will never fail to exist in works of that importance, ought to have been palliated and overlooked, on account of the other great merits of their author. It is, however, an incontrovertible fact, that he first introduced systematic regularity in the mineral reign. He formed the classes, and determined the genera and species by regular distinctive marks, which he derived from the external appearance. Thus mineralogy became a regular science, after it had formerly been but a chaos created by the miners, who used to discriminate the minerals partly by practice and partly by fire. Linnæus having once left the mines, having no laboratory, and being over-burdened by a multiplicity of other occupations, discontinued to exert himself so much in mineralogy. His system is however excellent, his hypothesis the fruit of the ripest reflection, his description of the species is excellent, and his observations truly important. In spite of all attacks, his name will likewise be handed down in this science to the latest posterity.

The vegetable reign possessed the greatest charms for Linnæus; he bestowed upon it the best share of his time and abilities. When he first appeared in the field of science in 1732, Tournefort’s system of botany derived from the structure of the inward cover of the flower, was every where popular and universally accepted. But during the latter part of its most flourishing epoch, a kind of barbarism was perceived in that system. Agreat number of new plants having been discovered, it so happened that the characters of the inward cover of the flower proved insufficient to distinguish one from another with plainness and regularity. Botanists began, therefore, to have recourse to the outward appearance, and to copperplates, not without prejudice to the certainty of the real system.

Linnæus soon perceived the error and its real foundation, in the want of sufficient and solid characters, which the inward cover of the flower could never have procured. He sought, therefore, a safer basis for his system, and took at first the outward cover of the flower to effect his purpose. But he found it equally insufficient. He ultimately examined the sex of the plants, which had in some measure been already known before him, though never used as a system. Upon these inquiries he built his sexual system, which soon met with universal approbation and spread itself throughout Europe. That he might render it the more firm and imperishable, he introduced the natural characters of the genera, which he took from all the parts of fructification, and from which he obtained a great number of distinctive marks, which will never fail accurately to point out the genera. He demonstrated the true principles of a botanical system, introduced a solid, certain, and definitive technology, and demonstrated the various errors of his predecessors, which had made their systems totter, and rendered uncertain the definition of the plants. This laid the foundation of his authority in the science of botany, which he extended still farther in a most extraordinary manner, by the excellent, concise, and plain Diffentiæ Specificæ, by the trivial names, and a solid and precise synonimy. After the entire arrangement and completion of his system, when the denomination and definition of plants could no longer embarrass its progress, he began to give a great number of the descriptions of the new species, which are all real master pieces, and the knowledge of which he partly owed to his travels, partly to his pupils, and from which the many editions and the important emendations of his system have originated. He was, at the same time, extremely cautious in not mentioning any plant as a species or as a genus, of which he either did not well know the characters, or did not find them sufficiently clear to his understanding. He acted thus, merely that he might not prejudice the solidity of his system.

The number of his new and important observations in botany is very great. They are for the most part to be found in the collection of his academical dissertations. He also took uncommon pains to finish his Ordines Naturales, or the natural affinity which subsists among the plants; but notwithstanding the great extent of his exertions, those productions only remained fragments, and many plants still are left to which he could not assign a place in their natural order. I wished at the same time to get better acquainted with the distinctive marks of his natural classes and with his observations upon them. He subjoined them finally, though with too much laconism, to the last edition of his Genera Plantarum, which was the result of some lectures he gave us in summer, in the country, upon the Natural Orders.

These are his merits in botany, to which he gave a quite new appearance, and enriched with many valuable remarks. The celebrated Hill says in his Vegetable System—

If we make conjecture of the value of the Linnæan method, it will live, even when a natural method shall be found, as long as there is science.

Linnæus manifested the same spirit of systematical order in the animal reign. He found it a real chaos, in which the infinite number of animals were confounded without characteristic distinction and without order. There had hardly been any regular and fixed classes introduced, at least not among the smaller kinds of animals. But he made it a regular science. He limited the various classes by plain distinctive marks, introduced the solid genera, determined the species, and took pains to lessen the great number of variations. I must freely own, that Linnæus himself was very sensible that his system of the animal reign was not built upon so safe a foundation as his botany, and that his generical characters were far more tottering and more undefined. It is, however, the only system which comprises the whole animal reign, which is certainly a great prerogative, if we only consider the circumstances in which Linnæus found that science. It remained almost entirely uncultivated, consisted only of a few descriptions which were extremely deficient, and of a small number of copperplates, so badly executed as hardly to be discernible. In Ichthyology, he alone profited by the labours of his ill-fated friend Artedi.

Linnæus was likewise the first who separated the worms from the insects, defined both classes by real characters, and introduced genera, sorts, and orders—a foundation upon which almost all his successors built after him. He also augmented all the different parts of the animal reign by a very considerable number of new discovered species, by exact and more accurate descriptions, and by a great quantity of the most important discoveries, which chiefly relate to animal œconomy.

Linnæus was therefore a great man in all the branches of Natural History. His name will consequently remain immortal in them all. Posterity will admire the penetrating spirit, the precision, and the energy, which shine forth in the works of that original genius, who rendered his science the most regular, and was the boast of his country and the pride of his age.

Works of Linnæus

  • Hortus Uplandicus, sive enuraeratio Plantarum exoticarum, Uplaridiæ, quæ in hortis vel agris coluntur, imprimis autem in horto academico Upsaliensi. Upsal, 1731, 160 pages, 8vo.2
  • Florula Lapponicæ, quæ continet catalogum plantarum, quæ per provincias Lapponicas Westrobotnienses observavit.—This work was written in the year 1732, and inserted in the Acta Litteraria Sueciæ of the same year.
  • Florulæ Lapponicæ, Pars Secunda.—His second part of the Flora of Lapland is also inserted in the Swedish Literary Transactions for the year 1735.
  • Caroli Linnæi Epistola de Itinere suo Lapponico.—This Letter is subjoined in the Supplements, also in the Commercia Litteraria Norimbergensia ad rei Medica et Scientice Naturalis incrementa, vol. iii. 4to. p. 73 and 74; and Hebdom. 5, No. II. p. 34.

  • Systema Naturæ, sive Regna tria Naturae, systematiæ proposita, per classes, ordines, genera et species, Lugd. Batav. apud Haak, 1735, 14 pages folio. First edition.

    • The Second Edition—Stockholm, ap. Kiesewetter, 1740, in octavo, 80 pages. Revised and augmented by Linnæus, with the characters of the genera and the names of the animals.
    • The Third Edition—Halle, by Gebauer, 1740, seventy quarto pages, published with a preface by J. J. Lange; to which are added the German terms. This is a mere copy of the Dutch edition.
    • The Fourth Edition—Paris, 1744, one hundred and eight octavo pages, properly speaking, published under the care of Dr. Ab. Bæck, who was then at Paris, but augmented with the French terms by Bernard de Jussieu; is in other respects a copy of the second edition, printed at Stockholm.
    • The Fifth Edition.—Halle, 1747, eighty-eight octavo pages, by M. G. Agnethler, containing the German terms: likewise a copy of the second edition, published at Stockholm.
    • The Sixth Edition.—Stockholm, 1748, in two hundred and thirty-two octavo pages, with eight plates, with the portrait of Linnæus, and augmented by him with the distinctive marks of the genera of plants, and a description of the species in the animal and mineral reigns.
    • The Seventh Edition,—Leipsic, 1748, two hundred and thirty-two octavo pages, with eight plates, a mere copy of the preceding edition, to which are superadded the German terms.
    • The Eighth Edition.—Stockholm, 1753, one hundred and thirty-six octavo pages, in Swedish the Vegetable System, by J. J. Hartmann; the Mineral System, by M. Moeller.
    • The Ninth Edition—Leyden, 1756, two hundred and twenty-eight octavo pages, published by Gronov, junior, with some botanical and entomological additions, after De Geer and Reaumur, in other respects perfectly like the sixth edition.
    • The Tenth Edition.—Lucca, 1758, under the title of “Caroli Linnæi Opera Varia, in quibus continentur Fundamenta Botanices, Sponsalia Plantarum et Systema Natura, ex typ. Junctiniana;” merely a copy of the preceding edition with the French names.
    • The Eleventh Edition.—Linnæus reckons this as the Tenth.—Stockholm, by Salvius, 1758 and 1759, two volumes. The first volume contains the animals, with the synonyms, in eight hundred and twenty-one pages; the second contains the minerals in five hundred and sixty pages; this edition is considerably augmented, the following three are copied:
    • The Twelfth Edition.—Halle, 1760, in two volumes octavo, by J. J. Curt, with a preface of J. J. Lange.
    • The Thirteenth Edition.—Leipsic, 1762, two volumes in octavo; a mere speculation of a greedy bookseller, without additions, and abounding with errors. Linnæus reckoned this as the eleventh edition.
    • The Fourteenth Edition.—Tomi ii. Pars. i. et iii. Pars. i. Hague, 1765, folio; as bad as the preceding, with ten very inaccurate plates on the three first Classes of the System.
    • The Fifteenth Edition.—(According to Linnæus, the Twelfth)—The last which was published under his own care and inspection; it bears the following title: Systema Naturæ per Regna tria Naturæ, secundum classes, ordines, genera et species, cum characteribus, difierentiis, synonymis, locis, Holm, apud Salvium, 1766–68, three volumes in octavo, the first of which contains the Animal System, in one thousand three hundred and twenty-seven pages the second the Botanical System, in seven hundred and thirty-six pages; and the third the Minerals, in two hundred and thirty-six pages. The third volume was separately printed at Halle, in 1770, with plates.
    • Sixteenth Edition.—A copy of the preceding Stockholm edition, Vienna, at Trattners, 3 vols. 1767, 1770.

    • Seventeenth Edition.—(According to Linnæus the thirteenth, called in the title the Eleventh)—Aucta, reformata, cura J. F. Gmelin, Leipsic, 1788, the six volumes of the first part in large octavo, comprising altogether three thousand nine hundred and nine pages. The first part, which contains the Animal reign, is completed in the six volumes.

      And Tom. ii. Pars Prima et Secunda, Leipsic, 1792. The first part, of eight hundred and eighty-four pages in octavo, comprises, with new genera and species of near one hundred botanists, the twelve first Classes of the Linnean System.

No nation can produce so complete a repertory of Natural History as the above. With infinite labour, exertion, and judgment, all the recent discoveries and observations in all the branches of Natural Science, have been united in it.

In the Animal reign, the works of Schreber, Pennant, Fabricius, Goetz, Schroeter, Muller, Cronstedt, Von Yeltheim, Bergmann, Kirwan, Bloch, Herbst, Stoll, Voigt, Fuessli, Sestini, Buffon, Adanson. Camper, and the Travels of Pallas, Sonnerat, Leske, Lepechin, Guldenstsedt, Peyrouse, Rasumowsky, and of an infinite number of other learned men, have been consulted.

Had Linnæus even enjoyed a longer life, no such enlargement and perfection of his code of nature could have been expected from him in the North.3

If we reckon the great number of editions copied in distant climes from the System of Nature of Linnæus, their number must probably amount to between twenty and thirty. Even at Batavia, a society of literati, resident there, caused an extract of the Linnean System to be published in quarto, with the names in the Malay language added to it.

Supplements Written by Linnæus Himself

Orations of Linnæus

Narratives of the Travels of Linnæus

Memoir of Linnæus

In following out our intention mentioned in the Prospectus to the Naturalist’s Library, of occasionally introducing portraits of illustrious naturalists, with sketches of their lives and writings, as far as the limits of the work would allow us, we now give the life of one who first practically pointed out the real utility of some system by which the great kingdoms of nature could be properly studied and understood, and their advantages to man most easily procured and adopted. The name of Linnæus is known to the whole civilized world; and, whether we consider the rank of his parents, the scanty means possessed by them to defray the expenses of his education, and what was necessary in the early part of his career to pursue his own favourite studies or the limited state of the continental museums at that period, we shall think that the merit which his contemporaries awarded to him was very justly earned.

The principal facts introduced into the following sketch, are taken from the biography by Dr. Pulteney, and the diary of Linnæus, written in Swedish by himself, or under his superintendence, and published as an appendix to the work above mentioned. The diary is a curious and interesting document, and owes its preservation to Dr Maton; it was conveyed in the year 1779, with a variety of manuscripts, to be printed in England, by M. Fredenheim, son of Dr Mennander, Archbishop of Upsala, to Robert Gordon, Esq. merchant at Cadiz. In consequence of Mr Gordon’s death, the publication of them was not accomplished, and they were disposed of to Dr Maton, who had the diary translated and printed in his edition of Dr Pulteney’s Biography of Linnæus. The manuscript was written in a folio book containing about eighty pages, entitled “Vita Caroli Linnæi.” The greater part of it is in the handwriting of his various pupils, of whom that of Dr Lindwall is most conspicuous, and it often runs from the first to third person, as if the different writers had not attended to what had been set down by their predecessor.

From this diary we learn that Nils Linnæus, the father of the naturalist, born in 1674, was the son of a peasant named Ingemar Bengtsson, in Smaland, and married Ingrid Ingemarsdotter, sister of Sven Tiliander,4 pastor of Pietteryd. The latter took Nils Linnæus into his house, educated him along with his own children, and having a good garden, he gave him also a taste for horticulture. After quitting school, he was sent to the university of Lund, where he had to contend with poverty, but nevertheless applied himself diligently to his studies. Retiring to his native place, he was admitted into holy orders by Bishop Cavallius, and first became curate, and afterwards comminster5 of Stenbrohult. He soon after married the parson’s eldest daughter, Christina Brodersonia, and succeeded to the charge of his father-in-law, which he enjoyed nearly forty years, discharging his duties with piety and moderation, and employing the greater part of his leisure in the cultivation of his garden.

Carl, the eldest son of Nils Linnæus, was born 24th May 1707 at Rashult, in the province of Smaland, while his father was still comminster. With an inheritance of his father’s love for plants and their cultivation, he is thus recorded by one of his pupils:

From the very time that he first left his cradle, he almost lived in his father’s garden, which was planted with some of the rarer shrubs and flowers; and thus were kindled, before he was well out of his mother’s arms, those sparks which shone so vividly all his lifetime, and latterly burst into such a flame.

The elder Linnæus wished and intended that his first-born should succeed him in the office of pastor, and he endeavoured to advance the clerical education of his son as far as his means would permit. At the age of seven, Linnæus was placed under the private charge of John Tiliander, and two years afterwards, was entered at the school of Wexio; but in both these places, the discipline is said to have been severe, and not well fitted for the advancement of a young man of his mild temper, and he was soon after placed under another private tutor, who possessed a more conciliating disposition. His distaste for ordinary studies could not be so easily overcome, and it was not till three years after that he received promotion to a higher form in the school, called the circle. In this rank he was allowed more leisure, which was invariably devoted to his favourite pursuits, and chiefly his earliest, that of plants.

According to the system of education at this time employed in Sweden, it was necessary that young men should pass from the schools, or from private teachers, to what was called the Gymnasium, where the higher branches of literature were taught; and at the age of sixteen, Linnæus was placed at this seminary. Here he still continued his dislike for those studies particularly necessary for a divine, and began to show a more decided taste for botany, by forming a small library of such books upon this science as he could procure, and from his studious perusal of them, he acquired the college name of the “Little Botanist.”

Nearly two years after, the elder Linnæus came to Wexio to ascertain the progress of his son’s studies, and the disappointment of the sanguine hopes of a parent may be conceived, when the recommendations of his preceptors extended only to his ability for some manual employment, and that farther expense in forcing a learned education would be comparatively thrown away. The old clergyman, having for some time laboured under a complaint which might have now increased from his anxiety, was obliged to consult Dr Rothman, a provincial physician; and grieving at the seemingly wayward and careless disposition of his son, he opened his mind to the doctor, who kindly prescribed for both his mental and bodily sufferings. He remarked, that, although the boy might be unfit to follow that profession in which his father would have wished to have seen him his successor, there was the greater hope that some other study would be more ardently pursued, that he might yet arrive at eminence in medicine, as being more intimately connected with the branch of his own choosing; and he offered to give young Linné board and instruction during the year which it was still necessary he should make up at the Gymnasium.

The offer of Dr Rothman was gratefully accepted, and that gentleman faithfully redeemed his promises. He gave his now willing pupil instructions in physiology and botany, pointing out the advantages of studying the latter science according to the system of Tournefort. In both Linnæus made considerable proficiency, had already commenced to arrange every plant in its proper place, and even to doubt the situation of many whose characters had not been properly ascertained.

Next year it was thought necessary that Linnæus should complete his education at some university, and upon applying at the Gymnasium, he received the following metaphorical testimonial, which will show the little esteem in which his qualifications as a scholar were held, and is a curious example of the manner in which the professors worded their certificates.

Youth at school might be compared to shrubs in a garden, which will sometimes, though rarely, elude all the care of the gardener, but, if transplanted into a different soil, may become fruitful trees. With this view, therefore, and no other, the bearer was sent to the university, where it was possible that he might meet with a climate propitious to his progress.

With this certificate he proceeded to the university of Lund, and only procured admittance by the interest of his old preceptor Hök, who withheld the testimonial, and introduced him as his private pupil.

At Lund Linnæus lodged in the house of Dr Kilian Stobaeus, professor of medicine, and physician to the king, a man of mild disposition, and excellent temper. Stobaeus admired the industry of his lodger, and his acquirements in natural science; allowed him free access to his excellent library, his collections of shells, minerals, plants, and birds, and first pointed out to our young botanist the manner of making a Hortus Siccus, who, enthusiastic in all his undertakings, immediately commenced collecting, drying, and gluing upon paper, the plants which grew in the vicinity. It was during one of these excursions with a brother botanist that he nearly lost his life from a bite of the Furia infernalis; the wounded part swelled and inflamed, and a fever ensued, from which he suffered long and severely.

The next summer’s vacation was spent with his parents at Smaland; here he again met with Dr Rothman, who advised him to remove to Upsala, where he would derive greater advantages from the celebrated Professors Rudbeck and Roberg, than in the more limited university of Lund, and would also have access to a rich public library, and extensive botanic garden. Linnæus followed the advice of his former patron; but his parents were only able to allow him about eight pounds sterling, to defray all his expenses; and after a short time he found himself almost without the means of gaining a livelihood, uncertain where to obtain a meal, and obliged to patch his shoes with folded paper, instead of sending them to a shoemaker. He regretted his departure from a kind and hospitable roof, but did not possess the means of returning; and Dr Stobaeus had taken it amiss, that he should have changed his residence without consulting him.

He was, however, soon relieved from this uncomfortable state by the kindness of new friends. The assiduity with which he studied the plants in the botanical garden, attracted the attention of Professor Rudbeck and Dr Celsius; and the latter requiring an assistant, thought Linnæus was qualified for the situation, and he opened his house and table to our naturalist, who amply compensated this indulgence by his strict attention. It was here that he composed his Spolia Botanica, a work never published, and contracted a friendship with Artedi, afterwards celebrated for his Ichthyology. These two young men now devoted their whole leisure to natural history; Linnæus reserving for his share, birds, insects, and plants, while his companion took fishes, reptiles, &c.

About this period, Le Vaillant published his essay, “Sur la Structure des Fleurs;” the perusal of which raised in the mind of Linnæus the ideas of the importance of the stamina and pistils, and was the dawning of that system, hitherto uncontroverted, and on which his fame will continue based. The first sketch of this he drew in the form of a dissertation, “De nuptiis Arborum [Sponsalia Plantarum],” and presented it to Dr Celsius, who again showed it to Professor Rudbeck. The latter was so pleased with the tract and its author, that he appointed him tutor to his children, and soon after having obtained permission, on account of his advanced age, to have an assistant in his duties, Linnæus was thought capable of teaching the science of botany, and was placed nearly at the head of an establishment, in which a year before he had applied for the situation of gardener.

He now lectured publicly, suggested alterations in the garden, endeavoured to introduce some arrangement, and began the valuable practice of giving botanical excursions to his students, noticing the plants which occurred in the vicinity of Upsala. He also commenced the foundation of several of his works, the Bibliotheca Botanica, Classes et Genera Plantarum.

Thirty-six years before this time, Professor Rudbeck had been employed, by the command of Charles XI., to make the tour of Lapland, but the whole fruits of that expedition had been destroyed in the dreadful fire at Upsala in 1702. The Royal Academy again meditated the design of fitting out a second expedition, and the friends of Linnæus had sufficient interest to procure his appointment to the laborious undertaking of exploring Lapland. They could not have entrusted it to any one better qualified; and although agriculture and botany were the branches to which he was required principally to direct his attention, he omitted nothing which could improve his knowledge of the country, its productions, and inhabitants.

On account of the season, the journey could not be commenced before the spring, and Linnæus did not set out till the 13th May 1732. He commenced the journey in high spirits, and in love with nature; travelled on horseback, and carried his whole baggage on his back. It may be worth while to describe his dress and implements in his own words, from the narrative laid before the Academy of Sciences.

My clothes consisted of a light coat of West-Gothland linsey-woolsey cloth, without folds, lined with red shalloon, having small cuffs and collar of shag; leather breeches, a round wig, a green leather cap, and a pair of half boots. I carried a small leathern bag half an ell in length, but somewhat less in breadth, furnished on one side with hooks and eyes, so that it could be opened and shut at pleasure. This bag contained one shirt, two pair of false sleeves, two half shirts, an inkstand, pencase, microscope, and spying-glass; a gauze cap to protect me occasionally from the gnats, a comb; my journal, and a parcel of paper stitched together for drawing plants, both in folio; my manuscript ornithology, Flora Uplandica, and Characteres Generici. I wore a hanger at my side, and carried a small fowlingpiece, as well as an octangular stick, graduated for the purpose of measuring. My pocketbook contained a passport from the governor of Upsala, and a recommendation from the Academy.

During the rest of this excursion, he made use of the mode of travelling which was best suited to the roads and passes, and performed the greater part of it on foot. Many hardships were necessarily undergone from the climate and nature of the country. His life was often periled in crossing rapid rivers, upon the rude boats or rafts constructed by the inhabitants, and endangered in a dreary waste of almost boundless snow, where the tracts of the reindeer, and the degree of heat retained by their dung, were the only guides to the huts of their masters; and he was even once fired on by a native on the coast of Finmarck. Notwithstanding these difficulties, he has eulogized the country in the Flora Lapponica, as all that could be desired, happy and smiling, free from many diseases and the scourge of war, and possessing plentiful resources in itself; while the inhabitants are said to be innocent and primitive, displaying the greatest hospitality and kindness to a stranger. In the journey, he travelled over the greater part of Lapland, skirting the boundaries of Norway, and returned to Upsala by the Gulf of Bothnia, having passed over an extent of above 4000 miles. Heconsidered his labour amply remunerated by the information he had gained, and the discovery of new plants upon the higher mountains, with the payment of his expenses, amounting to about L. 10.

Upon his return, he arranged all the plants according to his own yet embryo system, and delivered publicly an account of his journey, with a detailed description of the natural productions. This was the foundation of a work which he composed under the title of Lachesis Lapponica, and which remained unknown until after the purchase of his collections, by Sir J. E. Smith. By the exertions of that gentleman, it was translated, and published in two 8vo volumes; it is a work well worthy of perusal, and shows the industry and ardour which were exerted in the undertaking.

Previous to commencing his Lapland journey he had relinquished his botanical lectures, and on his return wished to give a course upon mineralogy, to the study of which he had lately applied himself. His financial concerns were also far from prosperous. The course was commenced, and many pupils obtained, but by the jealousy of other lecturers at his rising fame, it was put a stop to, upon the grounds that it required the qualification of Doctor of Medicine to lecture publicly.

He set out, therefore, to the great Swedish mining districts, to improve his knowledge in mineralogy, and the art of assaying; and at Fahlun was introduced to the Baron Reuterholm, Governorof Delame, by whom he was employed to investigate the productions of the province. For this purpose he was accompanied by seven young men, whom he superintended; to each a distinct department was assigned, and a report was given in at the end of every day’s journey, according to written rules which had been prepared before starting. The mountains of Dalecarlia were twice explored, and a part of Norway, and the materials collected formed the Iter Dalecarlium, a work which never seems to have been printed under the superintendence of its authors.

On his return, he was introduced to Dr Moreus, an eminent physician, and being often at his house, became deeply enamoured with his eldest daughter. Her father thought well of Linnæus, but not of his prospects in life: he wavered in giving his consent to the union—“voluit et noluit,” expressively writes Linnæus to a friend—and ultimately decided that a probation of three years should be undergone, when his decision would be given. All the efforts of the naturalist were now turned to that of bettering his condition in life. Medicine was chosen as a profession, but for this a degree must be acquired, and he resolved to proceed to the university of Harderwick. He travelled by Hamburgh, through Holland, to the place of his destination; and at the former place, had nearly got into disagreeable embarrassments, by pronouncing the famous Seven-Headed Hydra to be a deception, composed of weasels’ jawbones, covered with serpents’ skins. He found it necessary to leave the place, for in so great value was this serpent esteemed, that it had been pledged in security for a loan of ten thousand marks, a value which this discovery by no means enhanced. Upon his arrival at Harderwick, he was introduced to the professors, wrote and defended his thesis, and finally received his degree of M.D., with a diploma containing testimonials of his abilities, as flattering as those given upon his leaving school had been discouraging.

When this object was accomplished, it had been arranged, that Linnæus should settle in Sweden as a practical physician, under the patronage of Dr Moreus, and he set out, on his return, travelling through Holland, that he might gain the acquaintance of the celebrated men, and increase his information in the profession he had now chosen. Various circumstances, however, prevented his immediate return, and the three probationary years had almost expired, before he could revisit his country or claim his bride.

At the commencement of his journey homewards, the first place where Linnæus remained for any time was Amsterdam. Here he gained the friendship of the celebrated Boerhaave, and that of Dr Gronovius; the latter a person of still greater importance to his after fame. Gronovius was so much pleased with the sketch of the Systema Naturæ, by our young naturalist, that he requested to be allowed to defray the expense of the publication; and the request being granted, the work was immediately put to press in the commodious form of tables, embraced in about twelve folio pages, and in this way was the foundation laid of that system upon which almost all those of the present day are in many ways most intimately connected, and by which the arrangements of the older systematists were almost at once superseded.

By Dr Boerhaave, Linnæus was introduced to Mr Clifford, at this time the most enterprising botanist and horticulturist in Europe. With him Linnæus spent perhaps some of his happiest days. Devoted with all the ardour of a young man to a favourite and fascinating pursuit, he was at once placed in one of the most favourable situations in the world for following it out. Dr Pulteney says,

He enjoyed pleasures and privileges scarcely at this time to be met with elsewhere in the world; access to a garden excellently stored with the finest exotics, and to a library furnished with almost every botanic author of note; permission to purchase whatever plants and books he thought worthy of being added to the collection; and leisure to prepare his own works for the press.6

In addition to these advantages, it is said by his biographer Stosvers, that Clifford allowed him a salary of one thousand florins yearly, but which appears too munificent even for his liberal patron. So lavish, indeed, was Mr Clifford upon his favourite pursuit, that he proposed to send Linnæus to England to procure the botanical novelties, and to communicate with the most celebrated botanists and horticulturists. Linnæus could not resist the offer, and we find our enthusiastic naturalist sailing for Great Britain, instead of making his way to Sweden. On his arrival at London, he waited upon Sir Hans Sloane, to whom he had a letter from Boerhaave, which recommended him in the strongest language. But neither he nor Dillenius, whom he met at Oxford, showed such attention as might have been expected from these high testimonials. They looked upon him as a young innovator, who wished to overturn the old systems, only to exalt his own name upon a fleeting eminence. Dillenius spoke of him as the “young man who confounds all botany,”—treating him with reserve and haughtiness, until his discoveries were truly made known to him.

He visited also Martyn, Ward, Miller, Dr Shaw the celebrated traveller, Peter Collinson, &c.; and on his return to the continent, long continued a correspondence with these naturalists in the terms of the most sincere friendship; exchanged plants and other objects of natural history with them, and freely canvassed the different opinions set forth by each and although these were not always unanimously decided, they appeared to have had no influence in disturbing the alliance previously formed.7

He returned again to Holland, withstanding most pressing invitations to remain longer in Great Britain, deeply impressed with the importance of England as a country to forward the interests of natural science. London he calls “punctum saliens in vitello orbis;” and certainly, in this respect, its reputation has not decreased; it perhaps now possesses advantages superior to any city in the world for pursuing this study in all its branches.

During this excursion, Linnæus had greatly enriched the garden and herbarium8 of his kind patron, with novelties from the English nurseries, and particularly with American plants, which Mr Clifford had long desired to possess. He now completed the arrangement of this fine collection, and undertook the superintendence of the Hortus Cliffortianus, a work bearing ample testimony to the liberality of Mr Clifford, and brought out in a style much superior in every respect to the productions of that period. The whole was arranged, written, and corrected, in nine months and during that period, Linnæus even found time or, as he termed it, recreation, to forward his Critica Botanica, Genera Plantarum, &c. This constant exertion and study appears, however, to have affected his health, and he became weak and reduced. Notwithstanding these symptoms, he was ultimately prevailed to remain for a few months longer in Holland, and arranged the botanic garden at Leyden for Professor Von Royen; assisted Dr Gronovius with the Flora Virginica, and superintended the printing of the Ichthyologia of his deceased friend Artedi.

By the interest of his former patron, Dr Boerhaave, Linnæus was offered several situations abroad, all of which he was induced to refuse; he did not, however, on this account lose the doctor’s esteem. The regard of this venerable man continued unimpaired, and Linnæus was one of the few friends whom he would allow to see him on his deathbed. Linnæus himself relates the last interview. He had bid him a sorrowful adieu, at the same time kissing his hand in token of respect; Boerhaave put Linnæus’s hand to his lips in return, and addressed him in these impressive words,

I have lived my time, and my days are at an end, I have done every thing that was in my power. May God protect thee, with whom this duty remains What the world required of me, it has got; but of thee, it expects much more. Farewell, my dear Linnæus!

On his return to his lodgings, Linnæus found, as a last and parting present, an elegant copy of his chemistry.

As Linnæus was about really to depart from Holland, where he had been so often detained, almost contrary to his intentions, he was seized with a violent ague, followed by cholera, and was saved from death with great exertions and difficulty. His final renovation may be said to be due to Mr Clifford, who, not forgetful of his strict friendship, removed his patient again to Hartechamp, where he slowly recovered; and, though in a still weak state, set out for Sweden, taking his route by Paris, which he had long been anxious to behold. Introduced to the Jussieus, he received every attention, and was shown all that the stoves, and conservatories, and museums possessed, and made acquainted with the men of science. The Royal Academy of Sciences paid him a very high compliment. Having received permission to attend one of its sittings as a visiter, he was desired to wait a little while in the anteroom; and it was at length announced that the Academy had elected him a corresponding member.9 He was importuned to remain in France, and indeed his merit everywhere produced the same consequences; but he expressed his firm determination to return to his own country.

From Paris, Linnæus went to Rouen, where he embarked for Sweden, after an absence of nearly three years; during this period, he had vastly increased his information, particularly upon botany, and had taken advantage of the Dutch presses, to publish many of his works, which he had either previously written or brought with him in an imperfect state, while the liberality of his patrons, and some learned societies, defrayed the expense, and even assisted to illustrate some of them with plates.

Upon his arrival in Sweden, Linnæus immediately visited his aged father, and thence proceeded to Stockholm, where he commenced practising as a physician, but met with much opposition, on account of his botanical studies. His perseverance, however, succeeded, and he obtained extensive practice. Writing to a friend, he says,

I am undeservedly got into so much practice, that from seven o’clock in the morning till eight in the evening, I have not even time to take a short dinner.

He became acquainted with Captain Triewald, who was endeavouring to establish an Academy of Sciences; and in conjunction with this gentleman and the Baron Hopken, a society of some note was instituted, the presidency of which devolved upon himself. This was the origin of the present Academy of Stockholm. By the interest of one of its members, he was soon afterwards appointed physician to the navy; and with a fixed salary, he was chosen to give public lectures upon botany and mineralogy.

By these lucrative appointments, and the money he had saved during his residence in Holland, he was now in a situation of comparative independence, and was enabled formally to apply to Dr Moreus for the hand of his daughter; and no plea for rejection now existing, Linnæus was united to Sarah Elizabeth Morea, on the 26th of June 1739.

Our illustrious naturalist might now be said to have reached the height of his earthly happiness; independent in his circumstances—at peace, and beloved by his family, and looked up to and honoured by the heads of sciences in Europe. One of his biographers says

He was not, however, destined to continue in the career of reputation and prosperity, without exciting envy, jealousy, and opposition, from various quarters, and the attacks of his adversaries did not fail to wound his ambition. Yet, remembering the advice of his venerable friend Boerhaave, and being of too high a cast of mind to entertain asperity, or indulge in splenetic invectives, he wisely resolved to abstain from controversy. He took another method to counteract the injurious influence of his opponents, and it would be well if all naturalists would act in the same dignified way when repelling ill-natured attacks. He thought that something was due to his countrymen, to show that all men of learning did not agree with his libellers, and he published a little work giving a brief sketch of his life, a list of his works, and the various testimonials given to his talents by the most eminent men of the day. The title was worthy of its author—Orbis Eruditi Judicium de Caroli Linnæi, M.D., Scriptis.

He made no comments, but allowed opinions to be formed from authority that could not be contradicted, and relied upon the judgment which would be given upon the words of a Boerhaave, a Dillenius, a Sauvauges, a Jussieu, and a Haller.

He was not, however, above being corrected, when done with a proper spirit; and was perfectly aware that in the vast range he had undertaken, perfection could not at once be obtained, and that some faults were almost inevitable. In a letter to Haller, he says,

who could perambulate, without erring, the wide spread domains of nature? Who could observe everything with sufficient accuracy? Correct me in a friendly manner, and you shall have my best thanks. I have done all I could do. A great tree cannot bear a lofty top, when only it first begins to shoot off.

We have now seen Linnæus independent in his circumstances, and happy in his family, but there was still another step at which his ambition grasped: an ambition in this case laudable. It was the botanic chair of Upsala. He was eager to teach his favourite science in the halls where he had been himself taught, and had often entered with a boyish awe. It was still occupied by Rudbeck, now in the decline of life, and nearly unfit for the exertion of instructing a class. This celebrated man died in the ensuing year, and Linnæus offered himself as a candidate. Notwithstanding his fame, he was disappointed in this object. The University statutes opposed his success, and according to the regulations it was given to Dr Rosen, who had studied longer, and had greater claims upon Upsala. The summit of his wishes was, however, gained in the following year. He was appointed to the chair of medicine, vacant in the same University, and by a private arrangement with Dr Rosen effected an exchange, receiving the superintendence of the botanic garden, and charge of the whole department of Natural History.

Before his final removal to the professorship of Upsala, the Diet of the kingdom had resolved that expeditions should be undertaken into the least known Swedish provinces, to inquire into their resources, and discover what substances could be usefully employed in their domestic manufactures. Linnæus was selected to perform the first journey, and having accepted the appointment, he set out for the Islands of Oeland and Gothland to endeavour to discover an earth fitted to make porcelain; this was the foundation of his Iter Oelandicum. He was accompanied by six naturalists, but was unsuccessful in the object of the excursion. The tour was nevertheless of great utility; he attended to mechanics, the arts, antiquities, manners of the people, fisheries, and general natural history. He discovered above one hundred plants which were not previously known to be indigeneous, and first pointed out to the natives of those shores the use of Arundo arenaria to arrest the sand, and bind the soil upon the sea-beach.

At the age of thirty-four we find Linnæus enjoying the fruits of all his labours and perseverance, teaching his favourite science as its head in Sweden. He enjoyed himself to the utmost; he calls the garden “his Elysium,” and the enthusiasm with which he set about improving it knew no bounds. At his appointment every thing was in a state of confusion the dreadful; fire which had converted the best part of Upsala to a heap of ruins in 1702, had extended its ravages also here, and at this period the garden did not contain more than fifty plants that were exotic. Linnæus applied to the Chancellor of the University, Count Charles Gyllenborg, who, fortunately, was a man of considerable scientific acquirements, and a lover of botany, and he also thought that the fame of her University was of the utmost consequence to Upsala. Through the means of this gentleman, permission was obtained that the whole should be laid out anew. Plans were obtained from the King’s architect, and stoves, a greenhouse, and a mansion for the professor, were soon finished. A gardener, whom Linnæus had formerly known with Mr Clifford, was also engaged, and by the assistance of the friends whom he had acquired during his short visits to London and Paris, the collection of plants was soon increased to above eleven Hundred species, independent of those indigenous to Sweden. In a few years the garden at Upsala ranked equal, if not superior, to similar establishments in Europe.

Linnæus now continued an uninterrupted career, following out his duties as professor, and improving the garden. The number of students became increased nearly one thousand,10 and the fame of the University extended over Europe, and even to America. He always made summer excursions at the head of his pupils, who frequently attended him to the amount of two hundred. They went in parties to explore different districts of the country; whenever some rare or remarkable plant, or some other natural curiosity, was discovered, a signal was given by a horn or trumpet, upon which the whole corps joined their chief to hear his demonstration and remarks. Linnæus was much impressed with the necessity of this mode of conveying instruction, and also of the utility of parties conducted in a similar way, to gain an intimate knowledge of the productions of any country. Their advantages have also been more lately shown, by the example being followed by the Professors of our Scotch Universities, and the valuable additions which of late years have been made to a Flora comparatively well explored. We trust that in another year the researches will have more varied objects.

There is another circumstance in the manner of teaching employed by Linnæus, too remarkable to be passed over, that of his rendering his pupils subservient to the distribution of his own system, and of studying natural history for the advancement of the science, and not merely as a branch of polite education. By his ready flow of language, and the happy manner in which he communicated his ideas, he rendered the students converts from any system they might have previously adopted, and made them as enthusiastic as himself; and when in distant lands, it was their pride to teach that system, and to defend it from the attacks of persons who thought it an impertinent innovation. In like manner did he imbue the minds of his pupils with a love for foreign travel and research in unknown countries, pointing out the delight of discovery in the most fascinating terms; and it was equally their pride to make known their discoveries, and transmit their collections to a teacher whom they both loved and respected. In this he was also assisted by the government, who were most liberal in defraying the expense, and even sending out young men free to distant countries, which immensely increased the national collections. In a few years his pupils of the most persevering minds were distributed over the whole world, and their various histories would form of itself a volume of the most interesting kind. Of this enthusiasm for science Linnæus thus speaks,

If I look back upon the fate of naturalists, must I call madness or reason, that desire which allures us to seek and to examine plants? The irresistible attractions of nature can alone induce us to face so many dangers and troubles. No science has had so many martyrs as natural history.

Many of his pupils were unfortunate, and fell victims to the elements, or to the diseases of a pestilential climate; but many returned, amply compensating themselves for the hardships they had undergone, while their names are handed down to science in tributes which were bestowed by their venerable preceptor.11

The fame and reputation of Linnæus had now gained him both riches and honours. He was admitted a member into most of the scientific societies of Europe. The Imperial Academy distinguished him by the name of Dioscorides Secundus. The Royal Academy of Sciences of Upsala, the Academy of Sciences at Montpelier, the Royal Academies of Berlin and Paris, and Royal Society of London, all ranked him among their members. In 176I, he attained an additional accession of honours, being presented by his Sovereign with letters of nobility. His name was changed to Von Linne, and arms were assumed corresponding with his new rank. But, perhaps, the most flattering testimony of the extent and magnitude of his fame, was that which he received from the King of Spain, who invited him to settle at Madrid, with the offer of an annual pension for life of2000 pistoles, letters of nobility, and the free exercise of his own religion. He returned his most grateful acknowledgments for the intended honour; and his answer, that “if he had any merits, they were due to his own country,” shows the sense of obligation which he felt to the countrymen who had raised him to such an eminence.

The salaries which Linnæus received from his various public appointments, had placed him in affluent circumstances, and allowed him to gratify a wish which he had long indulged, the possession of a villa, where he could spend a part of his time, away from the hurry and bustle of a public life, and enjoy the quiet delights of a country retirement. He accordingly purchased the villa of Harmanby, about a league from Upsala, and during the last fifteen years of his life, mostly chose it for his summer residence. Here he kept, comparatively speaking, a little university. His pupils followed him thither, and those who were foreigners used to rent lodgings in the villages of Honby and Edeby, which were both contiguous to his villa. At the distance of about a quarter of a league from his rural abode, he erected a little building upon an eminence which commanded a view of the surrounding country. In this he kept his collections of natural history, and delivered summer lectures in a familiar manner to his pupils and foreigners who came to reside at the above-mentioned villages. During these, the grave and solemn habit of a professor was laid aside, and that of a friendly companion, clothed in a dressing-gown, slippers, and a red fur cap, was assumed.

To the titles with which King Frederick Adolphus honoured our great naturalist, he added his private friendship, and Linnæus was often admitted to his company. Natural history was a favourite pursuit of this prince, and a collection built in the Castle of Ulrichsdale, about half a league from Stockholm, rapidly increased under the superintendence and arrangement of Linnæus, and furnished the materials for one of his most splendidly illustrated works entitled, “Museum Regis Adolphi Frederici.” The Queen followed the tastes of her husband, and possessed a private collection also arranged by Linnæus. The leisure time in the summer vacations was often spent in these occupations, and the palaces of Ulrichsdale and Drottingholm, at easy distance from his own villa, were often the scene of his studies, and served as another recreation from the more severe duties of his professorship.

It was at this period of his life that he was seized with severe attacks of gout, which prevented his repose for many nights at a time, and which he relieved by eating wild strawberries; these were almost the first symptoms of an approaching decay in his vigorous constitution. The excitement of seeing a collection of novelties had a singular effect, and an anecdote is preserved, of his being cured in this way of a severe fit, by the return of a pupil from North America. He was afflicted with a violent fit of the gout, and was obliged to keep his bed almost totally deprived of the use of his limbs. When he heard of the return of Kalm, with a number of new plants and other curiosities, the desire of seeing these treasures, and the delight which he felt when he saw them, was so great as actually to make the gout disappear.

The family of Linnæus, consisting of only one son and four daughters, was now grown up. The son, his first-born, of whom so much was expected, inherited a portion of his father’s abilities, but was not spared to bring them to that maturity, which a constant study for many years might have enabled him to reach. At the early age of ten, he is said to have been acquainted with most of the plants in the botanic garden, and the highest wishes of his father were, to render him fit for, and to see him his successor in, the botanical chair. Let us see how these wishes were achieved.12

We have now brought down the principal incidents in the life of this great naturalist, to the time, when, though only fifty-six years of age, he felt the vigour of his constitution impaired, and his versatile mind commencing to wane. He was conscious that he had fulfilled his adopted motto, “Famam extendere factis,” and was willing to relinquish his office before its duties became too severe for his declining health; and after academical services for a period of thirty years, Linnæus respectfully entreated his majesty, Gustavus, who had succeeded to the throne upon the demise of his parent, to accept his resignation. His request was declined with the most flattering objections, and the king refused to deprive Upsala of her chief splendour: but he increased the salary, and allowed the young Linnæus to be placed as assistant to the professorship, under the superintendence of his father. Thus did Linnæus see the fulfilment of his brightest hopes, in the appointment of his son, at the early age of twenty-two, to a chair, which would have been looked upon through Europe, as the greatest and most difficult to be represented.

Notwithstanding the relief which Linnæus experienced by the assistance of his son, he continued his public activity till two years before his death; a mind so constituted, and a manner of life so habituated to activity, could not at once relapse into idleness. In 1771 he is described by a traveller, as leading an active and bustling life, never seen at leisure, even his walks had for their objects discoveries in natural history; and all his moments not embittered by a painful disease, were devoted to his darling science. In the following year he gave a proof of the remaining vigour of his constitution, by delivering a customary oration upon his resignation of office of rector in the assembly, which he had already held three times. He chose as a subject the “Deliciæ Naturæ,” and the whole academical forum found it so beautiful, that the students of the Swedish provinces sent deputies to him the next day, to entreat its translation into the language of that country.

In 1773, he was chosen member of a committee to superintend a better translation of the Bible into Swedish, and the task of ascertaining and describing the plants and vegetable productions mentioned in the Holy Scriptures, was intrusted to his care. In the same year, we find him writing to Pennant in London, with all the enthusiasm of a young man entering upon a favourite study.

Long ago have I been informed, that my countryman. Dr Troil, has brought with him your presents, which I so eagerly expected. He arrived here the day before yesterday, and delivered your Synopsis Quadrupedum and your Indian Zoology. I return you my warmest thanks for each. I will peruse and reperuse your Synopsis a thousand times. I find much beauty and utility in it, and will study it thoroughly. After having read the work, I will ask you many questions, and never prove ungrateful to you; I will enter into no dispute about methods. I wish to God I could see your other works, especially that on birds; how much knowledge, which I am deprived of, might I collect from them! Farewell—you’ll hear more from me next time.

In the year following, he composed his final essay. The king had received from Surinam a collection of curious plants preserved in spirits, with the fruit and flowers entire, and with much liberality presented them to Linnæus. Linnæus composed a catalogue of the whole, making out thirteen new genera, and about forty undescribed species. One of these he dedicated to his sovereign, under the title of Gustavia Augusta, as the truest way by which he could express his gratitude for the great distinctions conferred upon himself. And it was in this same year that he received the first fatal warning that the termination of his earthly career was near at hand. While he gave a summer lecture in the botanical garden, he had an apoplectic stroke, and fell into a swoon, from which he did not for a long time recover. From this period he declined gradually, and he felt his own weakness. Pennant had written to him to fulfill his promise of writing the natural history of Lapland, but he answered, “that it would now be too late for him to begin.”13

Me quoque debilitat series immensa laborum,
Ante meum tempus cogor et esse Senex.

His activity and public duties continued unabated at intervals till 1776, two years before his death, when he suffered a second shock, which had an effect upon his speech, though he still retained a part of his wonted cheerfulness. He was carried to his museum, where he viewed with delight the treasures he had collected together from all parts of the world, and showed additional vigour upon seeing any new or rare production, which the attention of his friends still furnished to him. Towards the end of this year he suffered a third and fatal blow. His right side became completely dead. It was necessary to lead, support, dress, and feed him. His mental faculties wasted with his body, and his earthly frame became to him a burden. In this distressing state he continued for nearly twelve months, at times suffering great agony from his previous disease; and as the powers of his constitution became exhausted, he became insensible to pain, and expired in a gentle slumber on the afternoon of the 10th January 1778, aged seventy years and seven months.

Thus terminated the active and ever-searching life of this pious and illustrious man, depriving natural history of her brightest ornament, and his country of a fellow-citizen and professor, whose loss could not be repaired throughout all Europe. Every human honour was paid to his remains, and the sorrow of his countrymen was without bounds. A general mourning was ordered at Upsala. To use the words of their sovereign, they had

lost, alas! a man, whose celebrity was as great all over the world, as the honour was bright which his country derived from him as a citizen. Long will Upsala remember the celebrity which it acquired by the name of Linnæus!

In foreign lands equal regard was paid to his memory. He was eulogized in the Royal Academy by Condorcet and Vicq d’Azyr, and his bust was erected under the highest cedar in the Royal Gardens. Dr Hope, the Professor of Botany in the University of Edinburgh, had a monument to his name erected in the Botanic Garden. Many societies have been formed under the auspices of his name, of which the most important was instituted in 1788, by the exertion of the late Sir James (then Dr) Edward Smith. This possesses the whole library, herbaria, and manuscripts, of the illustrious person whom it records.14 They were purchased by the members at the demise of their respected founder and president, and they rightly judged that the Linnæan Society of London was the only place where these monuments of his labours and abilities could be with propriety deposited.

The person of Linnæus is thus described by his biographers. His stature was of middle size, but of considerable muscularity, his head large, with a strong gibbosity on the back part. This seems to have been remarked by himself and all his biographers, and must have been a very marked feature in the form of his cranium. His features were agreeable, and his countenance animated; his eyes remarkably bright, ardent, and piercing, of a brown colour; the hair brown, and towards the decline of life it became hoary. The inspection of his portraits, which are mostly painted at an advanced period of his life, give an idea of an open disposition, benignity and good-humour, and of a mind ardent and piercing. The best esteemed likeness at an advanced period, is a picture painted by a Swedish artist, belonging to the Royal Academy of Sciences at Stockholm, of which there is a copy in the Linnæan Society of London; but one of the most pleasing was painted by Hoffman, when Linnæus was a young man, superintending the garden of Mr Clifford. It represents him in a Lapland dress, and was engraved by a London artist in mezzotinto. It is almost the only likeness taken at an early period of his life, and it is therefore selected as our copy for embellishing the commencement of this volume.

From the sketch we have now endeavoured to give of the life of this naturalist, it will have been seen that his mind was ardent and enthusiastic in the highest degree, particularly in following out his beloved science he never, however, in his enthusiasm, lost sight of the First Great Cause, but looked truly up to Nature’s God, as the giver of all his. benefits and acquirements. Over the door of his room was incribed,

Innocue vivito—Numen adest.

And when enumerating in his diary his various successes in life, he commences,

The Lord himself hath led him with his own Almighty hand;

and sums them up with

The Lord hath been with him whithersoever he hath walked, and hath cut off his enemies from before him, and hath made him a name like the name of the great men that are in the earth.

The most important of his works commence and finish with some verse from the Scriptures, implying the power or greatness of God, or his own gratitude to Providence for the innumerable benefits conferred upon himself and the inhabitants of the world; and his descriptions are continually interspersed with expressions of admiration, of gratitude, and love.

His memory was most comprehensive, and remained almost unimpaired till his sixtieth year; but the most remarkable feature in his comprehensive mind, was the power to seize upon the essential characters of whatever he was engaged with, to separate the useful from the useless, and at once to characterise them with that decision and clearness which so peculiarly mark his writings and descriptions. A better example of this cannot be referred to, and his style will be better understood in the perusal, than his Imperium Naturæ, or the preface to the three kingdoms of his Systerna Naturæ.

This love of order was equally conspicuous in his domestic arrangements. In winter he slept from nine to six, in summer from ten to three; but he never extended his application of mind beyond the moment at which he felt fatigue, and whatever fact came to his knowledge, he noted it immediately in its proper place. He was frugal in his way of living, and in his greatest prosperity never gave way to extravagance or ostentation; he was a strict economist, yet liberal in conferring benefits. He often relieved his pupils when in want, and was always ready to assist them in their travels, either by money or advice. In his capacity as teacher, he possessed the faculty of interesting his hearers, and of making himself easily understood, and his pupils looked upon him more in the light of a counsellor or beloved adviser, than as a grave or austere professor.

The character of this great Naturalist is easily defined from the nature of his habits and pursuits. He was fond of renown, and loved applause; but what man was ever insensible to panegyric, or could hear with indifference the voice of universal admiration at his own genius. Study was his ruling passion; and he had but one desire,—that of enlightening mankind. He was one of those whose penetrating mind soared above the attainments of his contemporaries, and saw farther than the limited horizon of the age in which he lived.

There are some men whose appearance is the date of a new era, whose talents overcome the poverty of their birth, and every impediment that obstructs their path. If they seek glory in arms, in letters, or in science, they find it; because Nature has endowed them with a sagacity of comprehension and a determination of will which carries them through all obstacles, and crowns their efforts with success. Such a man was Linnæus he was born a Naturalist, just as Newton was born an astronomer, Milton a poet, or Napoleon a soldier.

Although the soil of Sweden is not rich either in plants or insects, and many of its feathered tribes are but temporary visitants, leaving it at stated periods in quest of milder climes, nevertheless it was amidst this physical barrenness that the taste of Linnæus for his favourite pursuit broke out almost from his earliest infancy, and found the means not only of its gratification, but of laying the basis of a system which soon spread its dominion over the whole world of science. Almost within the Arctic Circle, this enthusiast of nature felt all those inspirations which are generally supposed to be the peculiar offspring of warmer regions.

It is perhaps worthy of incidental remark, that the most part of naturalists have commenced their career with the study of botany; and this admits of an obvious explanation. The animals look upon man as their enemy, and fly his approach; the mineral kingdom is concealed in the bowels of the earth, and cannot be reached except by tedious and painful exertions. On the other hand, plants and vegetables seem to covet the admiration and court the acquaintance of man: they unfold spontaneously their smiling beauties to his eye, and thus, as it were, invite him to examine and explain their structure. This branch of natural science is not merely the most easy and attractive at the outset it is the key of all the rest. Whoever becomes familiar with plants and herbs, soon desires to know the names of the insects that feed or lodge among their leaves; he then wishes to extend his observation to the nature of the soil that nourishes them, and thus, by an obvious transition, he passes from botany to the study of zoology and mineralogy.

This was exactly the case with Linnæus; he was a botanist from his cradle; he lived from his childhood amidst shrubs and flowers; and, in commemoration of his peculiar tastes even at that age, a comer of his fathers garden bore the name of Charles.15 It was this love for his favourite occupation, the resistless attraction of fields and meadows, that must account for the slowness of his progress at school, and also for the charge of incapacity brought against him by one of his teachers, Lanarius (whose name Cuvier has taken care to preserve), who would have extinguished this meteor of natural science, by counselling his father to bind him an apprentice to some obscure profession,—a shoemaker, or, according to others, a tailor, or a carpenter,—from a belief that Providence had not endowed him with sufficient aptitude for a liberal education.

The struggles and hardships he was doomed to encounter in his youth, had no effect in damping his ardour or slackening his application. It often happens that poverty, instead of disheartening or overwhelming genius, only developes and fortifies it the more; and when we read of the future Pliny of the North receiving at college the alms of the charitable, wearing the cast-off clothes of his comrades, or obliged to patch with bark or coarse paper those shoes which he had solicited from some of his companions, we are reminded of many similar examples in our own country:—of the orientalist, Murray, who learned his alphabet from letters rudely drawn with a burnt heather twig on the back of a wool card—of Leyden, who read the book he had borrowed by the borrowed light of a blacksmith’s forge; and of Adams, who attended the College of Edinburgh when he was often too poor to purchase a dinner, and used to consume his pennyroll during a solitary walk round the Meadows, or, if the day was wet, in climbing the high flights of common stairs that led from the Parliament Square to the Cowgate. Of these scholastic miseries Linnæus had his share; but they abated nothing from the ardour of his studies, and in the pages of Tournefort he found consolation for all the difficulties and discouragements he experienced in the gymnasium of Wexio.

His reputation was European, long before fortune deigned to smile on his labours. Often he used to apply to himself, as a motto, the words of the Latin poet, Laudatur et alget, “He is praised, and starves.” But, in spite of his necessities, the consciousness of his intellectual superiority inspired him with all the pride of independence; while the charities conferred upon him, instead of lessening his dignity, reflected honour both on him who received and on those who bestowed them It was the wants of his academical life that made him kind towards his own students, many of whom he aided both with his counsels and his money.

His sense of gratitude was strong; and in his generous heart every sentiment of benevolence found a place. An injury he could forget, but never a benefit. His friendship for Rosen, who accommodated him with the botanical chair, was as sincere as it was lasting. His early patron, Clifford, has been immortalized by the grateful pen of his illustrious protege, who delighted to inscribe the name of his Macsenas in several of those great works which will remain a monument to both for many ages yet to come. It was this feeling of respect that induced him to decline the pressing offer of Van Royen to take charge of the botanical gardens at Leyden, where he might have enjoyed a secure and comfortable livelihood. The terms proposed, of classifying the plants according to the method of Boerhaave, contrary to the arrangement adopted in the Hortus Cliffortianus, was the cause of his declining to accept this permanent situation; and thus, although dependent at the time on the bounty of others, he hesitated not to sacrifice the tempting prospect of a quiet and happy independence, to what he believed due to the memory of his benefactor.

His writings and correspondence abound with similar proofs of the warmth of his attachments. He mentions, in the most affectionate terms, the premature death of Hasselquist, who was cut off at Smyrna in 1752, and of Loefling, who died in America in 1756. His grief for Artedi showed how ardent had been the friendship of their youth this Naturalist had been his college companion they had studied together at Upsala, and from the similarity of their pursuits, had been led to contract for each other the tenderest personal esteem. After the death of his friend, Linnæus, to whom he had bequeathed the charge of his manuscripts, published his work on Ichthyology; and in a preface, which has been applauded as a model of beautiful latinity, he deplored the fate of his class-fellow in language that reminds us of the pathetic lamentations of David over his beloved Jonathan.

In nothing was the benevolence and good nature of this illustrious man more remarkably displayed, than in his conduct towards those who vilified and opposed him, as the author of a new system subversive of all established arrangements. He met with many detractors in France. His principal adversaries were Adanson, Buffon, and Lamethrie; the latter bitterly ridiculed him for placing man among the mammiferous animals—in the same class with the horse and the hog! Buffon affected to deny that he had either method or system. The learned Haller was the most formidable among his German antagonists.

Linnæus (says he) sets himself up as another Adam, to give names to the whole animal creation according to certain marks of his own, without the least regard to his predecessors. He almost dares to place a man and a monkey in the same category.

Zimmerman, too, complained that the Swedish Naturalist, in a few years, had entirely demolished botany, and raised his own fantastic theories on the ruins of every other.

The only vengeance Linnæus resorted to in retaliating upon his enemies, was either to treat their attacks with silent indifference, or to reply in pithy epigrams, which might expose the malice without tarnishing the memory of his critics. Sometimes he would affix their names to prickly shrubs, or stinging plants, or obscure flowers but rarely; deigned to make any public vindication of himself. His usual remark was,

I mean to employ the years that Providence allots me in making useful observations, and not in answering the cavils of my opponents. The errors of Natural History cannot be defended; its truths cannot be concealed. It remains for posterity to judge, and to that tribunal I appeal.

Some of his revilers lived to retract their calumnies, and withdraw their opposition to his system The son of Haller addressed to him letters of apology, expressing regret at having written against him. Siegesbeck, the most fiery of his antagonists, also testified his sincere repentance for having assailed his reputation, and implored him to forget the wrongs which he might have sustained at his hands. He even reckoned so far on the generosity of Linnæus, as to solicit from him the office of conservator of the garden of plants at Upsala;—a favour which would have been granted had the situation been in his power to bestow.

As botany was the earliest, so it continued to the last to be the favourite study of Linnæus. His predilection for it is obvious to the most superficial observer of his life and works. From it he drew his greatest happiness during prosperity, and his sweetest consolations in adversity. The sight of a new plant threw him into an ecstacy of delight. In writing, after he had passed his sixtieth year, to a friend in Paris, expressing his eager anxiety for a specimen of the Loam, he says,

If you can give me, or procure for me, a single seed, I would esteem it a treasure.

This passion continued unabated to the close of his life and some have attributed the revival of his intellectual faculties, to the desire he felt to describe the plants which had been sent him by Dalberg from Surinam. It is at least certain, that his latest labours had for their object the publication of a memoir under the title of Planter Surinamenses. Well might he apply to himself Rousseau’s description of the charms of botany,—

I owe my life and my purest pleasures to botany: it is my solace in the midst of disappointments, the soother of my cares, and the sun that sheds a smiling colour on the intervals of misfortune. Had I my own choice, I would spend my days in this delightful study, and even pursue it beyond the grave; for if there be flowers in the Elysian Fields, I would weave garlands for those good men who deserved them while on earth.

With regard to the peculiar characteristic of the Linnæan system, viz. the sexual distinction of plants, Linnæus himself confessed, both in conversation and in his writings, that the merit of that discovery did not belong to him it was known before the time of Theophrastus. Nor did he even claim the discovery of the sexual organs, which has been generally ascribed to him. Nevertheless, from his application of that knowledge to the developement of science, he may be justly considered their discoverer. In his Species Plantarum, he states that he had analyzed more than ten thousand species of flowers; and although he long swayed the botanical sceptre of Europe, he never expected that the natural system would gain a speedy conquest over the prejudices of the learned. Its adoption he considered as a thing which posterity might witness, but scarcely to be hoped for in his own times.

As a geologist, the opinions of Linnæus, however interesting about the middle of last century, are not now worthy of special analysis. At the period when he formed his theory, there existed no satisfactory data as to the structure of the globe. All the systems then in fashion had the common defect of being based on a few isolated facts, too superficially known to be trusted as a secure groundwork for geological speculation.

Viewed as a Zoologist, Linnæus was the first that gave a picture of the animal kingdom, embracing the whole range of beings that compose it. His classifications are ingenious, and chiefly founded on the organs of mastication, digestion, and lactation; in the form of the wings in birds on the; absence or presence of elytra in insects. Nobody before him had succeeded so well in drawing the line of demarcation between animals and vegetables; no author had hitherto known how to employ synoptical terms with so much brevity and precision. In creating a language for the Natural Sciences, he seemed to have prescribed boundaries which human ignorance could not pass, and to have fixed his definitions beyond the risk of misconception.

Some writers have attempted to compare Linnæus with Aristotle and Buffon; others have honoured him with the title of the Northern Pliny and the second Dioscorides. Those parallels, however, want analogy. To measure Linnæus with other Naturalists, is to contrast Scott and Voltaire with other poets: these men, by the prodigious extent and variety of their works, stand aloof from all comparison. It may be possible to find an equal to Linnæus as a botanist or a zoologist, or even to surpass him as a mineralogist; but where is one to be found uniting in the same degree all the qualities which constitute these different characters, or capable of achieving so wonderful a reformation in all these several branches of natural history?

Aristotle, considered as a Naturalist, was undoubtedly a man of powerful genius; but independently of his treating more particularly of animals only, we know that for want of materials, and consequently of more extended observation, he was unable to establish accurate or comprehensive classifications. Linnæus, on the other hand, excelled in those qualifications of method and arrangement in which the Greek philosopher was defective. Pliny and Dioscorides succeeded in collecting a vast number of facts, which they arranged methodically; but they seemed incapable of appreciating their value, or of assigning them their proper place in any general system. Their works appear like the point of transition between an age of ignorance, when every thing is amassed without order, and those enlightened times when the human mind, better-informed, and consequently more inquisitive, will adopt nothing on hazard, or without ascertaining its relative position among other phenomena of the same class. Those ancient philosophers lived when natural science was yet in embryo. Some of the materials which they supplied were admirably fitted to be incorporated in the edifice reared by Linnæus but to institute comparisons between them, is to do injustice to their memory, and betrays a want of power to appreciate their respective merits.

With regard to Buffon, those who would draw a parallel between him and Linnæus, cannot but perceive that there is no true resemblance between them. The Frenchman, though an excellent interpreter of Nature, painted her only in her more striking and general features, clothing his ingenious conceptions and his fascinating hypotheses in a style always pure, free, and eloquent. The Swedish philosopher is the reverse of all this, sacrificing every consideration of style to one quality alone,—that of conciseness and so remarkable is this condensation, that a single page of his writings has frequently given occasion to long treatises, and even been expanded into voluminous and important works.

Sometimes he is eloquent too; when admiring the works of creation, or paying a last tribute to the memory of a departed friend, his poetic mind gives utterance to its emotions in the most touching and expressive language. But excepting in these instances, his style was laconic and full of matter. Buffon wished to make Nature appear lovely. Linnæus sought to make her plain and intelligible he had, moreover, studied her in all her departments, whereas the other rarely seized upon any objects hut such as were fitted to make him shine as a writer. Linnæus intended to found a school, and he succeeded he also wrote in Latin, the universal language of science in his time. Buffon had no pretensions of this sort; he chose the French tongue, as being that of his countrymen, for whom he wrote. The pupils and successors of Linnæus advanced onwards in the discovery of new objects, taking him for their guide; the continuators of Buffon soon lost sight of their master, and in their efforts to imitate when they could not rival, to give importance to what was insignificant or without real interest, they did injury to the science which they designed to promote.

But whatever may be the difference between the merits of these two distinguished philosophers, it may be truly said that their works form a complete and distinct whole, as they satisfy the two principal intellectual desires of mankind,—that of admiring, and that of becoming acquainted with the works of creation. Of Buffon, it may be said, that he was the painter, and of Linnæus, that he was the expounder of nature; the former equalled her grandeur in his descriptions, the latter resembled her in the vastness and variety of his acquirements.

There are other qualities in which few men of science can be placed in contrast with Linnæus. Though confessed the prince of Naturalists, in the three kingdoms of botany, zoology, and mineralogy, it ought not to be forgotten that he was a profound linguist, since he was charged by the government with assisting in a translation of the Bible into Swedish; —that he was a distinguished physician, since he published several important works on different branches of medicine;—that he was an able antiquary, since he descanted so learnedly on the ruins which he met with in the isles of Gothland and Oeland;—and finally, that he was an intelligent agriculturist, since he produced a considerable number of treatises on rural economy. But these labours, any one of which might have sufficed to confer distinction on less elevated minds, are scarcely reckoned of any account amidst the vast multitude of his writings.

That Linnæus was a patriot, in the true sense of the word, enthusiastically devoted to the interests of his native country, is abundantly evident from his refusing the flattering offers of foreign princes, who tried to tempt him with large pensions to settle in their dominions. It was his aim to turn his studies and his public works to the advantage of Sweden; the titles which he gave many of them, showed that he wished her to inherit their fame, whilst several of them were expressly intended for improving certain branches of her domestic economy.

The life of Linnæus is a history of the natural sciences during the eighteenth century. Its principal incidents have been touched in the preceding sketch: we have seen him struggling with adversity in his youth; visiting different countries of Europe to gather information, and gratify his ardent passion or a beloved study; returning to his native land the most accomplished botanist of his age; and finally having all his wishes crowned by being elevated to the chair he most coveted, and one of the highest honours to which, in Sweden, a man of science can aspire. There he reigned supreme, exercising an influence over the world of science unparalleled since the days of Aristotle. In the ancient halls of the Northern Athens he devoted himself exclusively to his professional labours, without mixing with court intrigues, or taking any share in the political events which then agitated Europe. He acquired wealth without selling his independence, and fame without tarnishing the reputation of others.

In bringing this Memoir to a close, it may perhaps gratify the reader to select a few anecdotes illustrating some passages in his life, which have been only briefly alluded to in the foregoing pages. Of his journey to Lapland some notice has been taken but it is scarcely possible, without reading the tour itself, to form an idea of the fatigues and privations he encountered. In his journal for the month of June 1732, he gives the following account of his adventures in attempting to penetrate the country beyond the river Umea:—

On Sunday I left Lycksele, taking with me only three loaves of bread and some rein-deer tongues by way of provision. I presumed that I should procure among the liaplanders flesh of the rein-deer, cheese, milk, fish, fowl, &c.; nor indeed could I well take any thing more at present, for whenever we came to any shoals or falls in the river, it was necessary for my companion to take our boat on his head over mountains and valleys; so that I had not only my own luggage to carry at such times, but his likewise. Having next morning come within the territories of the nearest Laplander, we left our boat on the bank of the river, and went in search of this man through the wild forest, where we saw no more traces of roads or enclosures than if the country had been uninhabited. We met, however, with several deserted huts, where he had at one time or other resided.

Being exceedingly tired with this walk, I was glad to repose myself here in the desert, while my Finland conductor went in search of my future guide. Nor was I without considerable fears that this man, when he had met with the Laplander, might not be able to find me again; but about noon he returned accompanied by a Laplander, who took charge of me, inviting me home to his hut, where he treated me with fish and fresh water.

I was afterwards conducted from one Laplander to another, till I came to a part of the river about twenty-five miles above Lycksele, where there was a sort of bay or creek which we were under the necessity of wading through. The water reached above our waists, and was very cold. In the midst of this creek was so deep a hole, that the longest pole could scarcely fathom it. We had no resource but to lay a pole across it, on which we passed over at the hazard of our lives; and, indeed, when I reached the other side, I congratulated myself in having had a very narrow escape.

We had next to pass a marshy tract, almost entirely under water for the course of a mile; nor is it easy to conceive the difficulties of the undertaking. At every step we were knee-deep; and if we thought to find a sure footing on some grassy tuft, it proved treacherous, and only sunk us lower. Sometimes we came where no bottom was to be felt, and were obliged to measure hack our weary steps; our half-boots were filled with the coldest water, as the frost in some places still remained in the ground. Had our sufferings been inflicted as a capital punishment, they would even in that case have been cruel. What then had we to complain of? I wished I had never undertaken the journey, for all the elements seemed adverse; it rained and blew hard upon us. I wondered I escaped with my life, though certainly not without excessive fatigue and loss of strength.

By four o’clock in the morning we had conquered all our difficulties, still we could not meet with any Laplander; I was so exhausted that I could proceed no farther without some repose. We therefore struck up a fire, and having wrung the water out of my clothes, I lay down by the side of it in the hopes of taking a little rest; but in this I was disappointed. The fire scorched me on one side, while the cold north wind pinched me on the other; and the gnats so stung my hands, face, and legs, that it was impossible to sleep. Thus I remained in expectation of my conductor, who had set out in search of another, till two o’clock in the afternoon. I could not help thinking how miserably I might have to end my days here, in case he should think proper to desert me entirely.

At length he returned quite spent with fatigue, and having made inquiry at many of the huts, but in vain. He brought with him a person whose appearance was such, that at first I did not know whether I beheld a man or a woman. I scarcely believe that any poetical description of a fury could come up to the idea which this Lapland fair one excited. It might well be imagined that she was truly of Stygian origin. Her stature was very diminutive her face of the darkest brown, from the effects of smoke; her eyes dark and sparkling; her eye-brows black; her pitchy-coloured hair hung loose about her head, upon which she wore a flat red cap. She had a grey petticoat; and from her neck, which resembled the skin of a frog, were suspended a pair of large loose breasts of the same brown complexion, but encompassed, by way of ornament, with brass rings. Round her waist she wore a girdle, and on her feet a pair of half-boots.

Her first appearance really struck me with dread; but though a fury in aspect, she addressed me with mingled pity and reserve.

O thou poor man, what hard destiny can have brought thee hither, to a place never visited by any one before? This is the first time I ever beheld a stranger. Thou miserable creature! how didst thou come, and whither wilt thou go? Dost thou not perceive what houses and habitations we have, and with how much difficulty we go to church?

I inquired how far it was to Sorsele.

That we do not know (said she); but in the present state of the roads it is at least seven days’ journey from hence.

My health and strength being by this time materially impaired, by wading through such an extent of marshes laden with my apparel and luggage,—by walking for whole nights together,—by not having for a long time tasted any boiled meat, by drinking a great quantity of water, as nothing else was to be had,—and by eating nothing but fish unsalted and crawling with vermin; I must have perished but for a piece of dried rein-deer’s flesh given me by my kind hostess, the clergyman’s wife, at Lycksele. How I longed once more to meet with people who feed on spoon-meat!

I inquired of this woman whether she could give me any thing to eat; she replied, “Nothing but fish.” I looked at the fresh fish, as it was called, but perceiving its mouth to be full of maggots, I had no great appetite to touch it; but though it abated my hunger, it did not recruit my strength. Finding it impossible to proceed in that direction, I was at last obliged to return the way I came, though very unwillingly, heartily wishing it might never be my fate to see this place again. It was as bad as a visit to Acheron.

His descriptions of the habits and manners of the people are sometimes amusing.

All the Laplanders (says he) are of a small stature, and of a thin slender make. I never saw one of them with a large belly: they do not eat much at a meal, but take food from time to time as they feel inclined. On the other hand, the peasants of Finland cram themselves with as many turnips, and those of Scania with as much flummery, as their stomachs can possibly receive. The inhabitants of Dalecarlia eat till their body is as tight as a drum. The Finlanders (about Tornea) are all blear-eyed, to such a degree as to be nearly blind. I saw many of them who were perfectly deprived of sight; and ninety-nine out of a hundred that were so, had their eyes shut. It seems in vain to prescribe any remedy for this evil, so long as its cause is every where so prevalent. This consists in their smoky dwellings. If I had the management of these inlanders, I would tie them up to the wall and give them fifteen pair of lashes a piece till they made chimneys to their huts, especially as they have such plenty of firewood. This improvement in the comfort of their dwellings, might surely be accomplished by the authority of the chief magistrate; for I have not been able to learn any sufficient reason for their adherence to their old way of building. If people thirty or forty years of age are thus afflicted, what must become of them by the time they are seventy?

Leaving his travels in Lapland, we shall next accompany Linnæus to England, of which journey he has himself given some interesting particulars in his correspondence. As he was too poor to bear the expenses, his friend Clifford, as has been already noticed, advanced the necessary funds. The principal attractions that drew him to this country was the reputation of Sir Hans Sloane, and the splendid museum which he possessed.16 He was also desirous of becoming acquainted with Dillenius at Oxford, for whom he professed a high esteem, and to consult the Pimax of Sherard. The lively pleasure he felt in seeing the rich landscape scenery of Great Britain, and especially various plants which do not grow spontaneously in Sweden, he has expressed in the strongest terms. He speaks particularly of their hedge-rows of hawthorn in flower, of which he could not see enough to satisfy his admiration. It will be more interesting, however, to let him relate his own account of his adventures in England, especially at Oxford, as given in a short extract from his journal.

After having passed about a year in Holland, I felt a strong inclination to visit England. I spoke of it to Clifford, who at once gave his consent. Thinking it possible to make the voyage in one day, and to return in the same time, I promised him that I should not remain absent more than a week; but I afterwards found that it required the whole of that time to make the passage between Rotterdam and London. Immediately on my arrival, I went to pay my respects to Philip Miller, who had been one principal cause of my visit; he showed me the garden at Chelsea, and named to me several plants according to the nomenclature then in use. For instance, the Symphytum consolida major, flore luteo. I said nothing; but next day he remarked to me, “That fellow Clifford is no botanist, he does not know a single plant.” And as he kept repeating the same names, I took the opportunity of observing,—“Don’t you call this plant so and so, and this so and so? We have a much better and a far shorter way of naming them; they ought to be called so and so.” Upon this he frowned and grew impatient. I was anxious to get from him specimens for the Hortus Cliffortianus; but when I went to his house, I found he had gone to London. When he came home in the evening he was in better humour, and promised to give me whatever specimens I might desire. He kept his word; and I set out for Oxford, having proved myself a tolerably good purveyor for Clifford.

At Oxford, Linnæus formed an acquaintance with several distinguished Naturalists; amongst whom was Dr. Shaw, the learned author of Travels in the Levant, who treated him with great kindness. Dillenius at first gave him but a cold reception; as he was persuaded that the young Swede was a dangerous innovator, and had written his Genera for the purpose of upsetting the established doctrines of botanical science.

When I presented myself (continues he) to Dillenius, I found him with Sherard, to whom he remarked,—“Here is the man who confounds all botany.” I pretended not to understand what he said. We then strolled for a short while together in the garden, where I found, for the first time, the Antirrhinum minus. I asked him its name. “How! (exclaimed he), don’t you know that plant!”—“No (I answered); but give me a single flower, and I can soon tell you.”—“There (said he), take one;” which I did, and instantly saw to what genus it ought to belong.

On the third day, finding that Dillenlus did not relax in his coldness towards me, and that my money was near an end, I begged him, as I was ignorant of the English language, to send his servant to take a passage for me next day in one of the public vehicles for London. He did so and then I thought I might ask him another favour, viz. to explain to me the remark which he had made to Sherard at our first interview. This he refused; and upon my insisting, he requested me to walk into the library, where he showed me a copy of my Genera Plantarum, of which Gronovius had sent him about the half, without my knowledge; almost every page of which was marked with a nota bene. “What am I to understand by this (said I)?”—“Every one of these marks in your volume (replied he), indicates a false genus.” I maintained the contrary; “but if I have been unwittingly mistaken (added I), allow me at least to prove my error; and, if wrong, I shall have no hesitation in altering these genera.”—“Come, then (said he), let us analyse the first plants we meet with in the garden and pulling up a specimen of the blitum, which he, as well as other botanists, had described as having three stamina, he handed it to me. I opened the flower, and proved to him that it had but one. “Ha! (said he), that no doubt is an anomaly.” I opened several others, all of which were alike. We then tried several other genera, and found them all to correspond with my description. Dillenius looked at me with astonishment. “You must not leave me (says he) you cannot depart to-morrow.” He kept me in his house a month, and gave me whatever plants I asked for Clifford, who received me on my return to Holland with ecstasies of joy.

Linnæus, although remarkable for politeness, which he never failed to show to strangers, of whom many were drawn by; his celebrity to visit Upsala, had nevertheless a turn for pleasantry and humour, which he sometimes indulged to humble vanity, or rebuke conceited ignorance. The following anecdote he used to relate to his students, as a caution to them to take nothing for granted, even on the word of their master, without due investigation:

A lady of quality came one day to visit his collections at Upsala, followed by a small lion-shaped dog, whose silky hair almost Swept the ground. The venerable Professor accompanied the lady through his different curiosities, doing the honours of the University with his accustomed grace. The questions that she put to him on seeing so many animals, unknown and new to her, were so absurd, that he could hardly refrain from laughing every time she opened her lips. At length, to put an end to her queries, he thought he might create a little amusement at the expense of her ignorance. Fixing his eye attentively upon the dog, he seemed to admire the ingenuity with which the skin of the animal had been put on. “The artist (said he) who has given that tender little creature so thick a coating of fur, has shown a wonderful degree of judgment and of skill; for so perfect is his handywork, that the stitches can hardly he detected.”—“Eh! how! what say you? (exclaimed the lady). A false skin!—stitches!—an artist applying fur! That brute, then, is nothing hut a little bald monster, covered with a hide not his own! How horribly have I been cheated!” Then removing the hair, she imagined she really discovered the seam in a line slightly marked along the back; which was, in fact, nothing else than the line where the hair separates itself in opposite directions. The poor innocent beast was shunned and execrated as an impostor, and might have fallen into irretrievable disgrace with its enraged mistress, had not Linnæus added, with a smile,—“Calm yourself, madam; the artist that has served on the skin is Nature; it is Providence who has given that tender and frail animal a fleece that may enable it to brave the rigours of our northern winters.” The lady perceived the jest laughed, and took the dog again into favour.

The only other anecdote we shall quote, refers to his academical habits at an advanced period of life. It is related by one of his pupils, Fabricius, well known as a celebrated naturalist.—

I had the good fortune (says he) to enjoy the instructions and the particular acquaintance of Linnæus, from 1762 till 1764. During all that time I never passed a single day without seeing him, or assisting at his prelections. I followed him to the country, accompanied with two friends, Khun and Zoega, foreigners like myself. In winter we lodged at Upsala, immediately opposite his house. He visited us almost every day, without the least ceremony, in his red dressing-gown, and green cap trimmed with fur, with his pipe in his hand. His conversation was lively and agreeable: he amused us with reciting many anecdotes concerning the Swedish and foreign Naturalists whom he had formerly known; he explained any difficulties that we had met with in the course of our studies and often; favoured us with his own particular views on the subject.

In our various conversations, it was not uncommon to see him merry and laughing; good humour was depicted on his countenance; and he unbent himself with a frankness and affability of manner, which showed his natural disposition for conviviality. The time we spent with him in the country was no less agreeable; we lodged in the thatched cottage of a peasant, a very short distance from his house, where he often came to see us at six in the morning; and after breakfast, used to explain to us the natural order of plants, till ten. We then accompanied him to the neighbouring rocks, where he occupied himself in describing and detailing their different productions, till noon, his usual time of dinner. We returned to him afterwards, and spent the evening in his society.

It was his custom to make a botanical excursion every Saturday, and on these occasions he was always accompanied with a joyous troop of attendants, amounting often to 1 50 pupils, collected from all quarters of the world. They were divided into small bands, and after dispersing themselves over the country, they met again at the place and hour appointed, to give an account of their discoveries, and hear the explanations of their master. Linnæus kept near himself only the best informed of the class; and it was not unfrequent to hear them, when returning to their place of rendezvous, raising shouts of joy, which the venerable professor never attempted to repress. As soon as they had all arrived, he classified and described the plants that had been gathered; and when this was done, a table, with about twenty covers, was immediately spread and loaded with fruits, cheese, milk, and other viands. Those of the pupils who had discovered the rarest plants, or determined the greatest number, took their seats at the table with their master; the rest partook of the refreshment standing, but not without hopes of one day meriting the honour which they all so much envied, and which served to keep up among them a powerful spirit of emulation.

As might have been expected from his great ability, the honours and tributes of respect conferred upon him after his death, were exceedingly numerous The Academy of Stockholm caused his portrait to be engraved at Paris; a monument was erected to him at Edinburgh; and another by the Duke of Noailles in his garden; the latter was a cenotaph with a bust, and a medallion bearing an appropriate inscription. His name was assumed by Botanical Societies in different parts of Europe; and the learned of all nations seemed to vie with each other in the sincerity of their regret for his loss. The Academy of Belles Lettres and History at Stockholm, instituted a prize for the best eulogium upon him, to be composed in Latin, French, or Italian. The King of Sweden caused a medal to be struck, on one side of which was the head of Linnæus, and on the obverse a mourning Cybele, surrounded by animals and plants, with the motto—“Deam luctus angit amissi” The terms in which his Majesty expressed himself before the Diet of the States, show how deeply he felt the loss which Science had sustained by the death of its greatest ornament.

I shall never forget (says he) those marks of attachment which I received in the University of Upsala before I mounted the throne. There I founded a new chair; but, alas! I have lost a man whose renown filled the universe, and whom Sweden will ever be proud to number among her children. Long will this ancient city remember how much of her celebrity she owes to him who bears the name of Linnæus.

After so many tokens of regard lavished upon Linnæus by his king and his countrymen, it is apt to astonish foreigners to learn, that the Collections of that distinguished Naturalist were allowed to he transported from Sweden, as has been already noticed, and to become the property of an Englishman. The circumstance is thus related by one of the biographers of Linnæus:—

In Sweden, it is alleged, that there exists a law which vests in the State a right of inheriting part of the effects of the deceased, in all cases where he has exercised any of the functions connected with Professorships in the Universities. Madam Linnæus, apprehensive lest, on the death of her son, the collections of her husband might be seized by the government, made a secret offer of his herbarium and library to Sir Joseph Banks; but the latter not being then in a condition to make so extensive a purchase, mentioned it to Mr. (afterwards Sir James) Smith, who at once saw the importance of such an acquisition. The sum demanded by the widow was 1000 livres Mr. Smith offered 900, which were accepted. The English consul at Upsala was privately entrusted with the charge of conveying away the precious cargo; but some knowledge of the circumstance having transpired, the people were dissatisfied, and threatened to oppose the removal of the cabinets. The King, when informed of the transaction entered into between Mr. Smith and the widow, implored the latter to preserve for Sweden those valuable collections of which she was on the point of being deprived; assuring her, that he would himself reimburse her for any loss or inconvenience she might suffer from a breach of contract. But the offer came too late; for by that time the treasure had been embarked on board an English vessel in one of the neighbouring ports. His Majesty then immediately ordered an armed frigate to be got ready; but meanwhile the Englishmen had sailed the Swedes gave chase ; and had they been able to make up to her, a rencounter might have ensued, and the world might perhaps have seen the waters of the Baltic stained with blood, in a dispute about possessing the scientific remains of a peaceful Naturalist. The frigate continued the pursuit until she saw her rival enter an English Port full sail, landing in safety those cherished relics, the loss of which must ever be a subject of national regret to Sweden.

Robert Bremner, Esq., in his very agreeable work, “Excursions in Sweden, &c.,” has supplied an interesting account of his interview with the daughter of Linnæus, which is the more agreeable, as most biographers have stated that the family of the illustrious Swede became extinct as long ago as the year 1783. On reaching Upsala, he naturally inquired for the house of Linnæus, and for some time in vain; and, while looking dubiously for the object of his search, was invited in by a lady, who told him that he should see not only the house, but the daughter of Linnæus. This was a most unlooked for piece of intelligence.

On ascending the stair, however, our doubts were completely expelled. The lady who had first addressed us now spoke a little English, on discovering what country we belonged to, and ushered us into a neat little carpeted parlour, where we found the personage in question, Louisa Von Linné herself, seated on a high-backed arm-chair in company with another lady. Her appearance was highly interesting, but indicated a degree of feebleness both bodily and mental, which her eighty-seven years but too amply justified. Her grey silk gown and crimped cap spoke of a bygone taste, but were in excellent keeping with her venerable age; while the tidy look of every thing about her indicated the unforgotten habits of order and cleanliness in which she had been trained. She attempted to rise when we approached, and seemed highly gratified in learning that we were all from such far countries, and had come in search of her father’s house out of regard to his great name. Her speech is almost gone, but she still follows attentively all that is said. The sharp scrutinizing glance which she cast at each of us, ere she consented, to give us a pinch from her silver snuff-box, was highly amusing. We might be relic hunters—such seemed, to be the thought passing in her mind—and would not restore it. The extended hand was almost withdrawn—but a second survey removed her suspicion, and the antique implement made its circuit from one to the other of us, with all the reverence due to the name which it bore. Our visit evidently gave her great pleasure; it seemed as if she had never known the extent of her father’s fame: she could scarcely understand how people from such distant countries could know or have heard aught about the, Swedish professor. The other ladies were obligingly communicative, and mentioned that the fortune left by her father was so considerable, that she had been able to retain all her life the country seat purchased by him, which is so near, that she spends a great part of the year there. As we took her hand at parting, and felt the sands of life ebbing so fast that a few weeks might lay her by his side, we rejoiced that our idle visit had shed a glimpse of joy over the last hours of a great man’s child.

From a late Number of the Athenaeum, we learn that this lady died on the 21st of March, 1839, at the venerable age of ninety, and that her fortune descended to two grand-daughters of the Swedish Botanist.

  1. Linnæus commonly wrote this motto in the memorial books presented to him by his continental friends; the late celebrated Chevalier Ihre, who, though a sincere friend of Linnæus, disliked nevertheless all ostentation, inserted frequently opposite the writing of Linnæus these words, “Non magna sunt, quæ tument.”
  2. This was the first production of Linnæus, the first display and observance of the Sexual System. Neither Haller nor any other Literatus mentions it. The Flora Lapponica is generally alledged to be the first work of Linnæus. But Linnæus himself mentions the Hortus Uplandicus, even the month of its publication, and some words extracted from the preface.

  3. Linnæus himself wrote to Professor Gieseke, on the 20th of December, 1774, as follows:

    Naturæ Scientia in dies augetur tot novis inventis, ut vix ea cornprehendere valeam.

  4. Sven Tiliander, and the ancestors of the naturalist, took their surnames of Lindelius, Tiliander, and Linnæus, from a large linden or lime-tree, standing on the farm where he was born. This origin of surnames, taken from natural objects, is not uncommon in Sweden.
  5. Comminster, in the Swedish church establishment, is a clergyman somewhat similarly circumstanced to one who in Scotland serves a chapel of ease.
  6. Biography of Linnæus, p. 87 14.
  7. Sir J. E. Smith’s Letter.
  8. The Cliffortian Hortus Siccus is in the Banksian library, and was purchased by Sir Joseph Banks for L. 25.
  9. Thus related by Dr Pulteney.
  10. The usual number of students was 500; and in 1759, while Linnæus was rector, they amounted to 1500.
  11. Osbeckia, Kalmia, Solandra, Alstroemeria, Loeflingia, &c., will recall the names of some of his pupils.
  12. Young Linnæus was born on the 20th January 1741, at Fahlun, the capital of Dalecarlia. At an early age he was placed under private tutors, and it was intended that he should study the science in which his father had gained so much reputation and honour. When only eighteen years of age, he was appointed demonstrator in the botanic garden at Upsala; three years after he became an author, and published descriptions of the rarer plants in the garden, and in the year following, was made assistant and successor to his father in the professorship. After his appointment, he travelled through France, England, Holland, and Germany, and his father’s name everywhere procured him introductions. Upon his return to Upsala, he was taken ill of a bilious fever, which was succeeded by an apoplectic stroke, and terminated his life in the forty-second year of his age. With bis death terminated also the male branch of the family of Linnæus.
  13. Nunc nimis scro inceperim.
  14. Upon the death of the younger Linnæus, the collections and manuscripts of his father were offered for sale, and purchased by the late Sir J. E. Smith for L. 1000.
  15. It is recorded of the mother of Linnæus, that when she perceived the bent of his mind so contrary to the studies for the church, to which he was originally destined, she expressly forbade her other son, Samuel, from ever entering his father’s garden, being persuaded that he would there contract those tastes and habits that had defeated her fond hopes of making Charles a clergyman.

  16. The letter of introduction which Boerhaave gave his young friend to Sir Hans, was as complimentary to the English as to the Swedish Naturalist.

    Linnæus, who will present you with this letter, is as deserving of your notice as you are of his. Whoever shall have the fortune to meet you both, will see two men whose equals can scarcely be found in the world.

    A description of Sloane’s magnificent collection has been given in the Memoir prefixed to the History of the Pachydermus, in a preceding volume of the Naturalist’s Library.