In the middle of the last century, hard by a church dedicated to St. Mary—on a spot at that time considered somewhat rural in appearance, but since absorbed by the even then very populous town of Leeds—stood an humble, unornamented cottage, the outer door of which was studded with nails, like that of an ancient peel or a modern prison-house; and there a Yorkshire weaver, of the name of Milner, lived in comparative poverty. He is stated to have been characterized by sagacity, industry, and self-denial, but nevertheless had not proved particularly successful in the trade he followed; having besides, like many persons of a higher rank, suffered severely from the effects of the rebellion of 1745. Though not blessed with much intellectual culture, he had, as is common with his class, a full appreciation of the manifold advantages of a sound education; and vowed that he would not shrink from personal sacrifices that his children might at all events enjoy that invaluable possession. He was already the father of two boys, one of whom afterward attained worthy celebrity, when, on the 11th of January, 1750, Isaac Milner, the third of the family, first saw the light.

So many of those famous personages whose illustrious footprints have been traced in the foregoing pages, with a view to the encouragement of youths aspiring to excellence, could boast of gentle lineage and hereditary associations, that it is impossible not to experience something like a sensation of relief, and to feel the charm of variety, in turning to the career of a man without any such pretensions—not incited by the ambition of adding to a name that had been feared or respected in another day, and whose position in early life was not rendered easy by wealth, or “shone upon from the past.” Cradled under the roof of a cottage, apprenticed during seven years as a factory boy, and clutched from the loom by fraternal partiality, to be employed as usher in a provincial school, he raised himself by intellectual vigor and perseverance to places of honor and importance; and he was extolled among his great, learned, and reverend contemporaries, in his various characters of academic, historian, divine, and philosopher.

From infancy, or, in any case, as far back as his memory would go, Milner was animated by a strong affection for his elder brother, author of the well-known “Church History,” who, in pursuance of their sensible parents’ laudable resolution, had been placed at the grammar-school of the town. Doubtless, by one so closely united to him in bonds of tenderness and relationship, the future dean would in childhood be taught to read, and inspired with that restless and singular love of knowledge which rendered him, in later days, so peculiarly eager and ardent in the pursuit, acquisition, and investigation of any subject which circumstances brought under his notice or chance cast in his way, no matter how unconnected ordinary mortals might deem it with the regular duties and avocations pertaining to the station he occupied. The elder brother, originally intended to pursue his father’s trade, soon became so distinguished in the school, that one of the teachers was in the habit of recommending his pupils to apply to Joseph Milner’s memory in regard to questions of history and mythology, observing that he was more easily consulted than dictionaries, or the Pantheon, and quite as much to be relied on. The natives of the hamlet speedily began to gaze at him as a “marvelous boy,” and testified their respect by calling him “the learned lad.” Nor at the fireside of the family cottage did he lack encouragement. The earnest artisan manifested the utmost desire that the young scholar should have every aid within their reach to promote his improvement in learning, and one Saturday night astonished the little circle by the tidings that he had just spent the money which ought to have purchased a joint of meat on a Greek book for his son, being unable to procure both out of the slender earnings of the week. The brothers forced their way together through great difficulties; each arrived at distinction in his sphere of labor; and perhaps few more pleasing instances of brotherly love continuing could be cited than that which they, from first to last, exhibited. As early as his sixth year, little Isaac was led by the hand of his future benefactor to school, whither he continued to trudge daily for some years under the same guidance and protection. His progress in juvenile studies was most rapid and satisfactory: he soon learned to translate Ovid and Sallust with tolerable correctness; and he, in due time, commenced taking lessons in Greek, under auspices which must have delighted his father’s heart, and tempted his imagination, however calm, to indulge in visions of a golden future for the hopeful boy.

In the ninth year of his age, Milner’s young mind had the advantage of being opened and impressed by a visit to the mighty metropolis, though how, at that date, he happened to be taken on such a journey unfortunately does not appear. However, he is related to have been in London when news of the capture of Quebec by General Wolfe arrived. It was bawled through the streets by watchmen at the midnight hour, and bonfires blazed in triumph; and then he was told, for the first time, about grim-visaged war and the odious French. Assuredly he heard enough of them before the close of his long life, in that age of great and portentous events.

About this period the father of the Milners was cut off amidst his efforts to educate his offspring and promote their welfare; and thus seemed to be defeated all the wishes and hopes which the cleverness of the traveled little lads had created in the bosoms of their friends. It was necessary, indeed, to make the best of matters; and the elder brother being otherwise disposed of, it was deemed prudent to put Isaac out to a trade. The town being one of the greatest markets for woolen cloth in the kingdom, the inhabitants of the surrounding villages were employed in the manufacture. Accordingly, Milner was sent to work at and be initiated into the mysteries of a factory, which, in his case, must have been sadly against the grain. Kirke White, when placed in a situation somewhat similar, complained of being most unhappy, and of wanting something to occupy his brain. And Milner, doubtless, had little more relish than the boy-poet of “Clifton Grove,” who perished in his youthful fame, for the trade to which he was now apparently doomed for life. To a youth conscious of great abilities, and whose extraordinary faculties had been already recognized by teachers, such an occupation must have been almost worse than the labor of a slave; for, praiseworthy as aspirations after success, arising from the practice of such honest industry, may generally be, they were not of the kind to call forth those talents which subsequently made their possessor president of a college, vice-chancellor of a university, professor in the chair that had been occupied by Newton, dean of a cathedral, and one of the most fascinating conversers of his generation in the country that produced him, and also one of the most celebrated mathematicians and philosophers of his day. He studied, during hours not devoted to work, Greek and Latin books; probably perused on Sundays the “Pilgrim’s Progress,” which was always a source of real pleasure to his spirit; and perhaps even gained some acquaintance with the works of Shakspeare, Milton, and other great English authors, with which he was familiar in his advanced years. He was soon to have larger opportunities and a fitter scene for the refreshment and cultivation of his powerful mind, thirsting for knowledge.

The rector of the grammar-school had manifested much interest in the young Milners; and they were not quite unaided in their hour of need. By the generous exertions of several kind friends, and the well-timed liberality of others, Joseph, the elder brother, had been sent to Cambridge, and had there so conducted and distinguished himself, that when he left the university the head-mastership of the Hull grammar-school was conferred upon him, principally by the influence of the grandfather of Wilberforce, an appointment which led to a friendship not unimportant in its results to the gentle philanthropist, and to the success of the views he held. And now the heart of Joseph Milner was turned toward the prospects of his brother, and he pondered what could be done to promote his welfare and happiness. He therefore requested one of the clergymen in Leeds to examine the lad, in order to ascertain and report as to his qualifications for becoming usher in the school. The reverend gentleman thus commissioned proceeded to the factory, where he found Milner seated at work with a classical author on each side. An examination fully proved, that though removed for a considerable time from school, his diligence and love of learning had, in the mean time, amply supplied the place of instruction, and that he was quite competent to undertake with propriety, and discharge with credit, the tutorial duties in question. There still remained the important part of the business, which consisted in obtaining to the youth’s leaving the factory the consent of the owner, who, however, does not appear to have been so severe a taskmaster as the imaginary Wodgate Bishop. In any case, after a brief negotiation, he agreed to forego the remaining years of the apprenticeship; and entering the work-place, he made the heart of young Milner leap with joy and rejoice at the magic words, “Isaac, lad, thou art off!” In after years, he did not forget the comrades by whose side he had toiled and spun. He was ever really and unaffectedly humble; ready to acknowledge his original companions, and to minister to their necessities if they were poor. He was never ashamed of his juvenile employment, nor had he reason to be so; and when he encountered those who had known or labored with him in obscurity, it was with the same frankness, courtesy, and cordiality, but at the same time with the shrewdness, animation, and intrepidity, with which he met lordly guests at Rose or Lowther Castle. In this way he showed his rare nobility of soul.

Being happily freed from the manual labor which was unsuited to his abilities, Milner repaired straightway to Hull, and proved a most efficient assistant in the institution presided over by his brother. His department in the establishment was the instruction of the younger pupils, among whom he found Wilberforce, who was a lad of spirit, though delicate, and considered so remarkable for his powers of elocution, that it was customary to place him on a table and make him read aloud for the benefit of the other boys. Milner had, years before, besides constructing a sundial, given evidence of a decided bias toward mathematical studies; and he was now, while striving to accomplish himself in the classics, formally initiated into the elements of the science with so much profit, that when the scholars were engaged with lessons in algebra, and any difficulty occurred, the usher was immediately called upon to solve the problem, which he usually did with a promptness and facility not unworthy of one destined to be seated in the Lucasian chair. Joseph Milner had no cause to repent of having saved the talents of his brother from being lost amid the dust, noise, and wheels connected with the preparation of woolen cloth for Russian and German merchants; and he acted toward his gifted relative with exemplary and beneficent kindness. The keen and steady energy with which the latter pursued any object of inquiry that was presented to his attention—a characteristic that sometimes even exposed him to ridicule—was calculated to impart confidence to any attempt made toward his promotion in life; and it was determined that he should, in the year 1770, go to the university at which the reputation of his brother had been formed.

It seems that the elder Milner accompanied the embryo President of Queen’s College to his destination. Their circumstances, as well as economical considerations, led them to adopt, on their long journey, that mode of traveling much more pleasant to contemplate than experience, with which we are in some degree familiar, from the descriptions of those great novelists who flourished in the reign of the second George, and who left such interesting pictures of life and manners as exhibited at the period. They accomplished the distance from Hull to Cambridge on foot, with occasional lifts by the way in a wagon, to recover from fatigue. On their arrival, Isaac was entered at Queen’s College as a sizar, at a time when the privilege, in a pecuniary point of view, which he enjoyed as such, entailed the disagreeable necessity of performing various menial but by no means humiliating duties. Among these was ringing the chapel bell, and serving up the first dish to the fellows at dinner. On one occasion, when so busied, he was luckless enough to overturn a mess of soup on the floor, instead of placing it on the board, and was sharply rebuked for his awkward clumsiness; whereupon he excited much derisive laughter by exclaiming, in the dialect of his native country—“When I get into power, I’ll do away with this nuisance!” The threat, thus expressed on the spur of the moment by the modest and diffident sizar, was more religiously executed than most promises uttered in such a frame of mind; and when raised to academic dignity, he altogether abolished the services of which that he had been rendering formed so irksome and invidious a part.

Notwithstanding the ungrateful and troublesome tasks thus devolved upon him, Milner’s success at the University was great. He enjoyed one advantage—not always granted to men springing from so humble an origin—in a personal appearance which could not fail to prepossess beholders. His form, above the usual height, was cast in admirable proportions, and his presence striking; and his regular and handsome features expressed the talent of his brain, the benevolence of his mind, the kindness of his heart, the serenity of his temper, and the frankness of his disposition. His mental faculties were, as time passed on, placed beyond question by the brilliant success he achieved; and the fulness and variety of his colloquial powers rendered him the soul of the circles he frequented, either in Cambridge or London, and his listening audiences comparatively subservient. His mind became so marvelously comprehensive in its grasp, that it could master the details of any subject; and so universal was his information, that there were few trades on which he could not enlighten those who made them the business of their lives. He was, perhaps, a little more zealous than discreet in collecting his vast stores, and he was in the habit of reflecting from them with a pen in hand to take notes.

One very singular instance is given of his zeal in the acquirement of apparently uncongenial knowledge. Late in life, when his portrait, by Kerrick, was engraved, and his friends were anxious to have his coat-of-arms on the print, the then dean, on being applied to, at once declared that he had, of course, no armorial bearings, but he entertained no objection to be furnished with such as had nothing ridiculous about them. It was, however, a constant maxim with him that any knowledge which comes in one’s way is worth gathering, and his attention being thus attracted toward heraldry, he procured books, and succeeded in gaining much curious information on the subject in which he had no natural interest.

Throughout his earthly existence, Milner was distinguished by piety, purity, and integrity; and though ready enough to converse on other subjects with sportive levity, he never alluded to that of religion without the utmost sincerity and the most becoming seriousness. On entering the University he studied indefatigably, and with a result which must have been highly gratifying to his anxious relatives. In 1774 he took the degree of Bachelor of Arts, and that year the moderators not only assigned him the dignity of senior wrangler, but likewise the title of Incomparabilis. On attaining this distinction, Milner ran off, in the pride of his heart and intellect, to indulge in the extravagance of ordering a seal, with the head of his immortal predecessor, Sir Isaac Newton, engraved on it.

He was now admitted as a member of the Hyson club, which had been formed in 1758, and could boast of several names known to fame. About the same period, the appointment of tutor to a Polish prince was placed within his acceptance, but declined; and his reputation as a mathematician was so unquestioned, that the papers he made out for the use of his pupils were much prized; and there even occurred an instance of a bed-maker being bribed to procure some of them by stealth, to be copied by a student belonging to another college. Yet it was not merely with mathematics that his attention was now occupied. Various philosophical subjects were subjected to his learned faculties; his intellectual performances had secured him friends, and he had shown the independence of spirit by standing alone, among the students of the college, in a refusal to attach his name to a petition against subscription to the Articles of the Church. To this fact he referred with satisfaction in later days, in his encounter with the Bishop of Peterborough, whose denunciation of the sin and danger of giving people the Bible to read, unaccompanied by the Prayer-book, had brought him into the controversial arena.

At the age of twenty-six Milner was ordained deacon, and next year was admitted to priests’ orders, having in the interval been elected a fellow of his college, of which he became tutor in 1777. At that date he took the degree of Master of Arts. He got into the habit of now and then assisting his friends by officiating in country churches in the neighborhood; and he was presented to the rectory of the parish of St. Botolph. Milner had already contributed several papers to the “Transactions of the Royal Society,” of which he, in due time, became a fellow; and he was led to embark, with all the ardor which characterized him, on the study of chemistry. Eminently successful in this pursuit, he proceeded to deliver public lectures on the science. It appears, however, that the experiments he made considerably impaired his health; and this unfortunate circumstance prevented him from undertaking much public labor in his clerical capacity; but he studied scripture and theology with critical interest, and thus laid the foundation of his extensive knowledge of divinity. He was in the habit of going to spend part of the Cambridge long vacation with his brother, in whose house now resided their aged mother, a woman of mental vigor and activity, and to whose shrewd and talkative humor several amusing anecdotes bear witness. When at Hull, in this way, Milner disdained not to return to his duties as usher. To the boys he could be gay and frolicsome, and they relished alike his playful manner and the clearness with which he explained what they could not understand without such assistance.

In 1784, Milner was chosen Jacksonian Professor of Natural and Experimental Philosophy; and in the same year took part in the institution of a society for the advancement of philosophy and general literature, which only enjoyed a brief existence.

When Wilberforce was living in the house of an aunt, who held Methodistical views of religion, and was suspected of being impressed with such doctrines, his rich and sapient grandsire delivered himself of this alarming and oracular saying: “Billy shall travel with Milner when he is of age; but if Billy turns Methodist, he shall not have a sixpence of mine.” It did come to pass that, after Wilberforce was elected member for his native shire, and his acquaintance with Milner was renewed, he requested the company of his former instructor on a Continental tour. Accordingly they started on their excursion in the autumn of 1784, accompanied by the young, wealthy, and eloquent senator’s female relatives. It is related that, during this expedition, the travelers being on one occasion in imminent danger of being dashed over the brink of a precipice, from the weight of their vehicle overpowering the horses, Milner leaped out, and, grasping the wheels, exerted his great physical strength so effectually, that the danger was obviated. During their wayfarings they met, in Switzerland, the celebrated Lavater, in whose conversation Milner was much interested. Shortly afterward Milner visited his friend at Bath, when “the volatile representative of the county of York” was attacked by a serious illness, and subsequently at his temporary residence in Westmoreland, which being filled with guests of distinction, furnished the divine with a fair field for the display of his wonderful power and versatility. He held conversations with his host on religious subjects, and exercised no slight influence on the mind and opinions of the great philanthropist, in whose schemes for the freedom and welfare of the human race he warmly sympathized.

In the year 1786 Milner took his degree of Bachelor of Divinity, and about the same time was an active member of the Board of Longitude, instituted for the purpose of considering and reporting to government any discoveries calculated to mitigate the perils of navigation. He was regarded as one of the most talented men at Cambridge, where he was considered as an excellent lecturer. As Jacksonian professor he gave alternate courses on chemistry and experimental philosophy, the former of which were especially well attended; and he continued to occupy the chair till his preferment to ecclesiastical dignity.

About his thirty-eighth year he was elected President of Queen’s College; and in this capacity he is reported to have aimed at affording encouragement to learned men belonging to the foundation, and introducing such improvements in the reformation of abuses, and other means, as were calculated to conduce to the welfare of the students, and the honor of the university. Four years later he took the degree of Doctor of Divinity, on being appointed to the deanery of Carlisle, of which he took formal possession by reading prayers in the cathedral. As a preacher he was most effective: his voice, in which he took pride, was sonorous and magnificent; his eloquence was, on the whole, dignified and impressive; and when it was known that he was to preach, as he was in the habit of doing almost every Sunday during his periodic residence, in the cathedral of the ancient city, the aisles and every part of the building were thronged with people of all religious persuasions. Indeed it was remarked, that on such occasions you might walk on the heads of the crowd; and even those who did not entirely agree with his doctrines, admitted the ability with which they were urged, and the striking light in which they were placed. Nor did he court popularity by the brevity of his discourses; for we read, that on an Ash Wednesday he preached to a thronging congregation in the chapel of Whitehall, on “the one thing needful,” for no shorter space than an hour and twenty minutes.

Milner’s presentation to the deanery was closely followed by his election to the Vice-chancellorship of the University, of which he was so distinguished a resident; and in 1809 he was unexpectedly re-elected to the office: having, in the mean time, been called to fill the mathematical chair, which a century earlier had been occupied by the ever-illustrious Newton.

The ties which, amidst all his triumphs, had hitherto been instrumental in binding the Dean of Carlisle to the world, were about this period weakened by domestic losses. His mother had already gone to her grave; and in 1797 his brother, who had just been appointed to the vicarage of Hull, breathed his last. The latter bereavement touched Milner’s heart to the core; he began to feel less concern with earthly affairs, to exhibit greater earnestness in his professional duties, and to set his affections more steadfastly on things above. His life, indeed, was far from being without its enjoyments and consolations. He looked upon his summer residence at Carlisle as, in some measure, a period of relaxation, associated on terms of intimacy with the families in the vicinity, and derived pleasure from the hospitalities that were practiced, and the company that assembled at the mansions of Lord Lonsdale and the bishop of the diocese. He was prepared to converse with those whom he met on the subjects with which they were most familiar, in a style joyous, jocund, or grandiloquent. “He talked, also, to his chosen and intimate friends,” it has been said, with power, “but not in the same fitful strain. To them, from the abundance of the heart, he spoke on the theme which engages the latest thoughts of all men, the retrospect and the prospect; the mystery within, and the dread presence without; the struggle, and the triumph, and the fearful vengeance; and whatever else is involved in the relations which subsist between mortal man and the eternal source of his existence. To search into those relations, and into the duties, and hopes, and fears flowing from them, was the end which Isaac Milner still proposed to himself, under all his own ever-varying moods.”

Milner, with affectionate devotion to the memory of his deceased brother, repaid the essential obligations which in youth he had incurred, by editing and improving the “Church History,” written to disseminate the theological views he held; and added thereto a biographical sketch of the author. Nor, in the midst of affluence and reputation, did he forget the wants of his more humble relatives; to whose necessities, as to those of the poor of his native place, he ministered with a bountiful hand. In Carlisle, also, he contributed toward the various objects of public charity; he was ever anxious to serve those who, in private, applied to him for assistance; and he subscribed liberally toward the erection of the new churches, which were rendered necessary by the large population of the old Border city.

In 1819, having previously been introduced to Dr. Chalmers, Milner wrote to the magistrates of Edinburgh, urging the claims to the Professorship of Natural Philosophy in their gift, and then vacant, of that eminent Scottish divine, whom he described as “a man of great genius, varied talents, and sound principles, both religious and civil.”

After attaining the age of threescore and ten years, this distinguished man died on the 1st of April, 1820, and was buried in the chapel of that college of which by intellectual industry he had risen to be the head.