He

After a residence of about four months in Venice, during the latter part of which time he was afflicted with a severe illness, Crichton repaired to Padua, | where was a university whose fame, in that age, was spread over Europe. The day after his arrival there was convened in honour of him, at the house of Jacobus Aloisius Cornelius, a meeting of all the learned men of the place, when Crichton opened the assembly with an encomiastic poem in praise of the city, the university, and the persons present. then disputed for the space of six hours on matters in general; and, in particular, exposed with great judgment the errors of Aristotle and his commentators, which he did, nevertheless, with such engaging modesty as excited universal admiration. In conclusion, he thought proper to deliver an extempore oration in verse, in praise of ignorance, which was conducted with so much ingenuity ("in order," says one of his biographers, "to reconcile his audience to their comparative inferiority") that his hearers were astonished, and no doubt highly gratified. Another disputation was to have been held in the Bishop of Padua's palace, which some unforeseen circumstances, according to Manutius, prevented. Imperialis, however, differs from this statement; and relates that his father (then thirteen years of age) had witnessed Crichton upon such an occasion; that he was opposed by Archangelus Mercenarius, a famous philosopher; and that he acquitted himself so well as to obtain the approbation of a very honourable company, and even of his antagonist himself.

In the midst of the great reputation which Crichton now enjoyed, there were not wanting many persons who took occasion to detract from it, affecting to consider him as a literary impostor, whose acquirements were totally superficial. To put an end at once to all such cavils or invidious reflections, he caused a challenge, similar to the others already made mention of, to be fixed on the gates of St. John and St. Paul's church. The chief novelty on this occasion was, that he engaged, at the pleasure of his opponents, to answer them either in the common logical way, or by numbers and mathematical figures, or in a hundred different sorts of verse. According to Manutius, Crichton sustained this contest without fatigue for three days; during which time he supported his credit and maintained his propositions with such spirit and energy, that from an unusual concourse of people he obtained acclamations and praises than which none more magnificent were ever heard by men. It by much exceeded any of his former contests of a similar nature; and it is the last of them of which we have any account.

To Sir Thomas Urquhart posterity is alone in

1 Tytler's Life of Crichton, p. 34.

the Admirable Crichton, and its interest has certainly suffered little in coming from the graphic pen of that redoubted fabler. We cannot do better than give the exordium in his own words:-"A certain Italian gentleman, of a mighty, able, strong, nimble, and vigorous body, by nature fierce, cruel, warlike, and audacious, and in the gladiatory art so superlatively expert and dexterous, that all the most skilful teachers of escrime and fencing-masters of Italy (which, in matter of choice professors in that faculty, needed never as yet to yield to any nation in the world) were by him beaten to their good behaviour, and, by blows and thrusts given in which they could not avoid, enforced to acknowledge him their over. comer: bethinking himself how, after so great a conquest of reputation, he might by such means be very suddenly enriched, he projected a course of exchanging the blunt to the sharp, and the foils into tucks; and in this resolution, providing a purse full of gold, worth near upon 400 pounds, English money, travelled amongst the most especial and considerable parts of Spain, France, the Low Coun tries, Germany, Pole, Hungary, Greece, Italy, and other places, wherever there was greatest proba bility of encountering with the eagerest and most atrocious duellists; and immediately after his arrival to any city or town that gave apparent likelihood of some one or other champion that would enter the lists and cope with him, he boldly challenged them, with sound of trumpet, in the chief market-place, to adventure an equal sum of money against that of his, to be disputed at the sword's point who should have both." Sir Thomas goes on to relate the success of this bravo of Italy, whose person and character he has sketched with so masterly a pencil. "At last returning homewards to his own country, loaded with wealth, or rather the spoil of the reputation of these foreigners, whom the Italians call Tramontani, he, by the way, after his accustomed manner of aboarding other places, repaired to the city of Mantua." Having received the protection of the duke, and published his challenge, it was not long before he found opponents willing to engage him on his own terms. "For it happened at the same time that three of the most notable cutters in the world (and so highly cried up for valour that all the bravoes of the land were content to give way to their domineering, how insolent soever they should prove, because of their former constantly-obtained victories in the field) were all three together at the court of Mantua; who, hearing of such harvest of 500 pistoles, to be reaped (as they expected) very soon, and with ease, had almost contested among themselves for the priority of the first encounter, but that one of my lord duke's courtiers moved them to cast lots who should be first, second, and third, in case none of the former two should prove victorious." Next ensue the successive calamitous combats of these brave men: for he "whose fortune it was to be the first of the three in the field, had the disaster to be the first of the three that was foyled; for at last with a thrust in the throat he was killed dead upon the ground." The second "was laid flat dead upon the place by means of a thrust he received in the heart;" and the last, "his luck being the same with those that preceded him, by a thrust in the belly, he, within four and twenty hours after, gave up the ghost."

Sir Thomas manages with the ability, and indeed pretty much in the style, of a standard romancer, the scene which was to wind up the interest of his story to its height. And first he pauses in his narra. tion, to take notice how these lamentable spectacles caused shame and grief to the "Duke and citie of

Mantua;" and how "the conquering duellist, proud | of a victorie so highly tending to both his honour and profit, for the space of a whole fortnight, or two weeks together, marched daily along the streets of Mantua (without any opposition or controulment) like another Romulus or Marcellus in triumph." The way thus artfully prepared, the true knight, for whom, as in books of romance, this adventure had been reserved, is introduced

"Which the never-too-much-to-be-admired Crichton perceiving-to wipe off the imputation of cowardice lying upon the court of Mantua, to which he had but even then arrived (although formerly he had been a domestic thereof), he could neither eat nor drink till he had first sent a challenge to the conqueror, appelling him to repair with his best sword in his hand, by nine of the clock in the morn. ing of the next day, in presence of the whole court, in the same place where he had killed the other three, to fight with him upon this quarrell; that in the court of Mantua there were as valiant men as he; and, for his better encouragement to the desired undertaking, he assured him that, to the foresaid 500 pistoles, he would adjoin a thousand more; wishing him to do the like, that the victor, upon the point of his sword, might carry away the richer booty. The challenge, with all its conditions, is no sooner accepted of, the time and place mutually condescended upon, kept accordingly, and the 1500 pistoles, hinc inde, deposited, and the two rapiers of equal weight, length, and goodness, each taking one, in presence of the duke, duchess, with all the noblemen, ladies, magnificoes, and all the choicest of both men, women, and maids of that city, as soon as the signal for the duel was given, by the shot of a great piece of ordinance, of threescore and four pound ball, the two combatants, with a lion-like animosity, made their approach to one another."

The combat, as it resembles much in management and fashion those with which the reader of old romances must be well acquainted, so does it likewise come up to them in minuteness, we can hardly say tediousness, for of that the author is incapable. Crichton long kept upon the defensive with his adversary, and showed such excellent dexterity, "that he seemed but to play while the other was in earnest." After long fencing, falsifying, and parrying, warding from tierce to quart, priming, and seconding, and after every variety of posture had been gone through, "the never-before-conquered Italian finding himself a little faint, enters into a consideration that he may be overmatched, and sad thoughts seize upon all his spirits. We may indulge the reader with the conclusion of this eventful conflict in the words of its original chronicler; and in these it may possibly be invested with a propriety and interest which we would but vainly labour to bestow upon it.

"Matchless Crichton, seeing it now high time to put a gallant catastrophe to that so-long-dubious combat, animated with a divinely inspired fervencie to fulfil the expectation of the ladies, and crown the duke's illustrious hopes, changeth his garb, falls to act another part, and from defender turns assailant: never did art so grace nature, nor nature second the precepts of art with so much liveliness, and such observance of time, as when, after he had struck fire out of the steel of his enemie's sword, and gained the feeble thereof, with the fort of his own, by angles of the strongest position, he did, by geometrical flourishes of straight and oblique lines, so practically execute the speculative part, that, as if there had been remoras and secret charms in the variety of his motion, the fierceness of his foe was in a trice transVOL. I.

Then was

qualified into the numness of a pageant. it that, to vindicate the reputation of the duke's family, and expiate the blood of the three vanquished gentlemen, he alonged a stoccade de pied ferme; then recoyling, he advanced another thrust, and lodged it home; after which, retiring again, his right foot did beat the cadence of the blow that pierced the belly of this Italian; whose heart and throat being hit with the two former stroaks, these three franch bouts given in upon the back of the other: besides that, if lines were imagined drawn from the hand that livered them, to the places which were marked by them, they would represent a perfect isosceles triangle with a perpendicular from the top angle, cutting the basis in the middle; they likewise give us to understand, that by them he was to be made a sacrifice of atonement for the slaughter of the three aforesaid gentlemen, who were wounded in the very same parts of their bodies by other three such venses as these; each whereof being mortal, and his vital spirits exhaling as his blood gushed out, all he spoke was this, That seeing he could not live, his comfort in dying was, that he could not die by the hand of a braver man: after the uttering of which words he expiring, with the shril clareens of trumpets, bouncing thunder of artillery, bethwacked beating of drums, universal clapping of hands, and loud acclamations of joy for so great a victory." Crichton generously bestowed the prize of his victory upon the widows of the brave gentlemen whose deaths he had thus avenged.

In consequence, it is said, of this achievement, and the wonderful proficiency of the young Scotsman, the Duke of Mantua made choice of him as tutor to his son, Vincentio di Gonzaga, a young man of dissolute conduct and unsettled principles. The appointment seems to have been gratifying to all parties; and, as Sir Thomas Urquhart informs us, Crichton composed a comedy on the occasion, which he exhibited before the court. This we must by no means enlarge upon; for though that author's account of the matter is complete and curious, it is of great length, and may with more pleasure and advantage be read at large in the original. The piece, we may only remark, belonged to a class of the drama known by the name of the Comedia a soggetto; in which one actor performs all the characters, however numerous; and must appear in the various dresses appropriate to each. The Admirable Crichton had his usual success. The composition was regarded as one of the most ingenious satires that ever was made upon mankind. It was the last display, too, of those wonderful talents and endowments which their possessor was destined to make on the stage of this world; and if, in any part of our narrative, we may have betrayed symptoms of incredulity, we lay all such feelings aside in coming to the concluding circumstance, the tragic nature of which must always excite deep sympathy and regret.

On a night of the carnival, as Crichton was returning from some serenading party, and amusing himself as he went solitarily along, by playing upon his guitar, he was suddenly set upon by five or six armed persons in masks. These, with great vigour and bravery, he either put to flight, wounded, or kept at a distance. The one who seemed to be the leader he contrived to disarm; and this person proved to be the prince, his pupil, Vincentio di Gonzaga; for, pulling off his mask and discovering himself, he begged his life. Crichton, on this, fell upon his knees, and expressed the concern he felt for his mistake, alleging that what he had done he had been prompted to by self-defence; that if his prince had any design upon his life he might always be

26

heart.

It ought, however, in justice to be said, that the above, though the popular statement of Crichton's death, has been qualified by more than one of his biographers, in its circumstances of atrocity; and, indeed, though such actions assume a different character in Italy from what, happily, we are acquainted with in this country, he ought to have the advantage of every extenuation which impartiality can allow of. It is uncertain whether the meeting occurred by accident or design. Sir Thomas Urquhart, with his usual romance, has told a most extravagant, and it must be allowed, absurd, love story; thus implicating jealousy in the transaction; but the most probable version seems to be, that Crichton was stabbed in a drunken frolic; that the high rank of the one party, and great merit of the other; the relation in which they stood to each other; and the concealment of the real circumstances came, at length, from the natural love all people, and especially the Italians, have for amplification and exaggeration, to invest the whole in the tragic garb which it now wears.

Great and general, according to the old author we have so often quoted, was the grief and lamentation which this sad event caused in Mantua. The whole court went into mourning for nine months. The epitaphs and elegies written to his memory, and stuck upon his hearse, would exceed, if collected, the bulk of Homer's works; and long after, his picture had its place in the closets and galleries of the Italian nobility; representing him on horseback, with a lance in the one hand, and a book in the other. In a summary of excellences which we cannot help transcribing, the same author thus takes leave of the individual he has in so great a degree tended to exalt:-"Crichton gained the esteem of kings and princes, by his magnanimity and knowledge; of noblemen and gentlemen, by his courtliness and breeding; of knights, by his honourable deportment and pregnancy of wit; of the rich, by his affability and good fellowship; of the poor, by his munificence and liberality; of the old, by his constancy and wisdom; of the young, by his mirth and gallantry; of the learned, by his universal knowledge; of the soldiers, by his undaunted valour and courage; of the merchants and artificers, by his upright dealing and honesty; and of the fair sex, by his beauty and handsomeness, in which respect he was a masterpiece of

nature.

Crichton is supposed to have been in the twentysecond year of his age at the time of his death. One or two pictures are preserved of him; and there is reason to believe that they are originals. By these it would appear that his frame was well proportioned, and his head well shaped, though rather small than otherwise. His face is symmetrical and handsome, but has no particular expression of character. There is a print of him in the Museum Historicum et Physicum of Imperialis, which, though poorly executed, is probably authentic.

Such is the wonderful story told us by early writers of the Admirable Crichton, in which his own age devoutly believed, and which a love of the marvellous has continued to perpetuate to our own day. Its incredible character, however, is of itself sufficient to discredit it, and a dispassionate examination to reduce it within reasonable bounds; and this reduction has been attempted by Dr. Kippis, the chief

biographer of Crichton, in the following conclusion: "It is evident that he was a youth of such lively parts as excited great present admiration, and high expectations with regard to his future attainments. He appears to have had a fine person, to have been adroit in his bodily exercises, to have possessed a peculiar facility in learning languages, to have enjoyed a remarkably quick and retentive memory, and to have excelled in a power of declamation, a fluency of speech, and a readiness of reply. His knowledge, likewise, was probably very uncommon for his years; and this, in conjunction with his other qualities, enabled him to shine in public disputation. But whether his knowledge and learning were accurate or profound may justly be questioned; and it may equally be doubted whether he would have arisen to any extraordinary degree of eminence in the literary world. It will always be reflected upon with regret, that his early and untimely death prevented this matter from being brought to the test of experiment.” CROMARTY, EARL OF. See MACKENZIE,

George.

CRUDEN, ALEXANDER, styled by himself, Alexander the Corrector, was born at Aberdeen, on the 31st May, 1700; the son of a respectable merchant and bailie of that city. Having received a good elementary education, he entered Marischal College with the intention of studying for the church. He there made considerable progress in his studies, and had the degree of Master of Arts conferred upon him, when decided symptoms of insanity appeared. His malady has been absurdly ascribed to the bite of a mad dog, and, with more probability, to a disappointment in love. At all events, it is certain that he became so unreasonably importunate in his addresses to the daughter of one of the clergymen of Aberdeen, that it was found necessary to put him under restraint. This lady, however, it afterwards appeared, was unworthy of the devotion he paid her, and there is a very interesting anecdote of his meet. ing her many years afterwards in London, where she had hid herself after fleeing from Aberdeen. On his release from confinement in 1722, he left the scene of his disappointments, and repairing to England, found employment as tutor for many years in a family in Hertfordshire, and afterwards in the Isle of Man. In the year 1732 he settled in London, where he was employed by Mr. Watts, the printer, as corrector of the press; he also engaged in trade as a bookseller, which he carried on in a shop under the Royal Exchange. Having gained the esteem of many of the principal citizens of London, he was, on the recommendation of the lord-mayor and aldermen, appointed bookseller to the queen.

Soon after Cruden's arrival in London he had commenced his elaborate work called the Concordance of the Bible; and having, after inconceivable labour, finished it, he had the honour of dedicating and presenting it to Queen Caroline, the consort of George II., who graciously promised to "remember him;" but, unfortunately for him, she died suddenly a few days after. Involved in embarrassments by the expense of publishing his Concordance, and by his neglect of business while he was compiling it, he abandoned his trade, and sunk into a state of melancholy despondency. His former mental disease now returned upon him with increased violence, and he was guilty of so many extravagances, that his friends were obliged to place him in a private lunatic asylum. On his recovery he published a lengthened account of his sufferings, under the title of "The London Citizen exceedingly Injured; giving an account of his severe and long campaign at Bethnal's Green,