CHAPTER IX WATT IN OLD AGE ATT gracefully glided into old age. This is WATT the great test of success in life. To every stage a laurel, but to happy old age the crown. It was different with his friend Boulton, who continued to frequent the works and busy himself in affairs much as before, altho approaching his eightieth year. Watt could still occupy himself in his garret, where his "mind to him a Kingdom was," upon the scientific pursuits which charmed him. He revisited Paris in 1802 and renewed acquaintances with his old friends, with whom he spent five weeks. He frequently treated himself to tours throughout England, Scotland and Wales. In the latter country, he purchased a property which attracted him by its beauties, and which he greatly improved. It became at a later date, under his son, quite an extensive estate, much diversified, and not lacking altogether the stern grandeur of his native Scotland. He planted trees and took intense delight in his garden, being very fond of flowers. The farmhouse gave him a comfortable home upon his visits. The fine woods which now richly clothe the valley and agreeably diversify the river and mountain scenery were chiefly planted under his superintendence, many by his own hand. In short, the blood in his veins, the lessons of his childhood that made him a "child of the mist,' happy in roaming among the hills, reasserted their power in old age as the Celtic element powerfully does. He turned more and more to nature. "That never yet betrayed the heart that loved her-" We see him strolling through his woods, and imagine him crooning to himself from that marvellous memory that forgot no gem: For I have learned To look on nature, not as in the hour Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes The still, sad music of humanity, Nor harsh, nor grating, though of ample power To chasten and subdue. And I have felt A motion and a spirit, that impels All thinking things, all objects of all thought, And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still A lover of the meadows and the woods, And mountains; and of all that we behold From this green earth. Twice Watt was requested to undertake the honor of the shrievalty; in 1803 that of Staffordshire, and in 1816 that of Radnorshire, both of which were positively declined. He finally found it necessary to declare that he was not a member of the Church of England, but of the Presbyterian church of Scotland, a reason which in that day was conclusive. In 1816, he was in his eighty-first year, and no difficulty seems then to have been found for excusing him, for it seems the assumption of the duties was compulsory. It was "the voice of age resistless in its feebleness." The day had come when Watt awakened to one of the saddest of all truths, that his friends were one by one rapidly passing away, the circle ever narrowing, the few whose places never could be filled becoming fewer, he in the centre left more and more alone. Nothing grieved Watt so much as this. In 1794 his partner, Roebuck, fell; in 1799, his inseparable friend, and supporter in his hour of need, Dr. Black, and also Withering of the Lunar Society; and in 1802 Darwin "of the "silver song," one of his earliest English friends. In 1804, his brilliant son Gregory died, a terrible shock. In 1805, his first Glasgow College intimate, Robison; Dr. Beddoes in 1808; Boulton, his partner, in 1809; Dr. Wilson in 1811; De Luc in 1817. Many other friends of less distinction fell in these years who were not less dear to him. He says, "by one friend's withdrawing "after another," he felt himself "in danger of standing "alone among strangers, the son of later times." He writes to Boulton on November 23, 1802: We cannot help feeling, with deep regret, the circle of our old friends gradually diminishing, while our ability to increase it by new ones is equally diminished; but perhaps it is a wise dispensation of Providence so to diminish our enjoyments in this world, that when our turn comes we may leave it without regret. He writes to another correspondent, July 12, 1810: I, in particular, have reason to thank God that he has preserved me so well as I am, to so late a period, while the greater part of my contemporaries, healthier and younger men, have passed "the "bourne from which no traveller returns." It is, however, a painful contemplation to see so many who were dear to us pass away before us; and our consolation should be, that as Providence has been pleased to prolong our life, we should render ourselves as useful to society as we can while we live. And again, when seventy-six years of age, January, 1812, he writes: On these subjects I can offer no other consolations than what are derived from religion: they have only gone before us a little while, in that path we all must tread, and we should be thankful they were spared so long to their friends and the world. Sir Walter Scott declares: That is the worst part of life when its earlier path is trod. If my limbs get stiff, my walks are made shorter, and my rides slower; if my eyes fail me, I can use glasses and a large print: if I get a little deaf, I comfort myself that except in a few instances I shall be no great loser by missing one full half of what is spoken: but I feel the loneliness of age when my companions and friends are taken from me. All his life until retiring from business, Watt's care was to obtain sufficient for the support of himself and family upon the most modest scale. He had no surplus to devote to ends beyond self, but as soon as he retired with a small competence it was different, and we accordingly find him promptly beginning to apply some portion of his still small revenue to philanthropical ends. Naturally, his thoughts reverted first to his native town and the university to which he owed so much. In 1808 he founded the Watt Prize in Glasgow University, saying: Entertaining a due sense of the many favours conferred upon me by the University of Glasgow, I wish to leave them some memorial of my gratitude, and, at the same time, to excite a spirit of inquiry and exertion among the students of Natural Philosophy and Chemistry attending the College; which appears to me the more useful, as the very existence of Britain, as a nation, seems to me, in great measure, to depend upon her exertions in science and in the arts. The University conferred the degree of LL.D. upon him in 1774, and its great engineering laboratory bears his name. In 1816, he made a donation to the town of Greenock for scientific books, stating it to be his intention to form the beginning of a scientific library for the instruction of the youth of Greenock, in the hope of prompting others to add to it, and of rendering his townsmen as eminent for their knowledge as they are for the spirit of enterprise. This has grown to be a library containing 15,000 volumes, and is a valuable adjunct of the Watt Institution, founded by his son in memory of his father, which is to-day the educational centre of Greenock. Its entrance is adorned by a remarkably |