berts, Edinburgh.[1] His mother was Susan Robertson, eldest daughter of James Robertson Barclay, of Keavil, in Fifeshire. He was born in the second-charge
manse of St. Cuthberts, Edinburgh, on the 13th of September, 1776. As he
was one of a family of five sons and two daughters, and as the hereditary
estate of the ancient family of the Moncreiffs had lapsed into the possession of a
younger branch nearly two centuries previous, James, the subject of the present memoir, was destined to a life of active industry, for which purpose his
education was commenced at the high school of Edinburgh, and afterwards
continued at the university of Glasgow. At the latter institution he was so
fortunate as to obtain one of its exhibitions to Baliol College, Oxford an
appointment which secured to him for ten years a complete course of literary
and professional training at the same seminary which has produced, for many
generations, the master-spirits and leading intellects of Europe. Sir James,
however, found that, even in Oxford, the attainment of this high distinction
depended more upon a diligent course of self-training than the parental care of
his new alma mater, whose monastic institutes, worn out with old age, could no
longer be screwed up to the full coercive pitch. That happy reformation had
not yet commenced under which Oxford has assumed a new life, and commenced
a fresh history, that promises to be more glorious than its old. In spite, however, of the prevalent looseness which at that time characterized the discipline
of these colleges, and the facility with which their pains and penalties could be
eluded or confronted, he became an accomplished scholar, and was enabled to
prepare for active exercise those high intellectual qualities for which he was so distinguished in the course of his future career.
As Mr. Monereiff had selected the law for his profession, and the Scottish bar for his place of occupation, his studies at Oxford had been chiefly directed to this effect; and on the 26th of January, 1799, he was admitted a member of the faculty of advocates at Edinburgh. At first, his progress as a barrister was slow, and his prospect of advancement unpromising; but for this, the solid, substantial character of his mind, which required longer time for full development, was a sufficient excuse. A profound, reflective lawyer, seldom starts into full maturity at the age of twenty-three, or even gives large promise of his future excellence. But a still greater obstacle to early success might be found in Mr. MoncreifFs polities, which were by some years in advance of the period; they were those uncompromising, independent principles which he had learned, from the example of his venerated father, to cherish and avow, in spite of Tory ascendency and government patronage; and in this way Mr. Monereiff, instead of having the tide at its height to bear him onward, was obliged to confront it in its rise, and when it was set full against his progress. Like his illustrious contemporary, Jeffrey, he adopted the losing side in politics when there was least hope of its obtaining the ascendency,[2] But both were finally no losers
- ↑ For the Life of Sir Henry, see Division VII. p. 456.
- ↑ His early adoption and avowal of Whig polities, is thus commemorated in Cockfeurn's "Life of Lord Jeffrey":" The public meeting in 1795, for attending which Henry Erskine was turned out of the deanship, was held in the Circus, which their inexperience at that time of such assemblages had made them neglect to take any means to light, and Erskine was obliged to begin his speech in tie dark. A lad, however, struggled through the crowd with a dirty tallow candle in his hand, which he held up during the rest of the address, before the orator's face. Many shouts honoured the unknown torch-bearer. This lad was James Monereiff, then about sixteen."
