WATT. 
587 
This will be the fame of Watt with future generations; 
and it is sufficient for his race and his country. But to those 
to whom he more immediately belonged, who lived in his 
society, and enjoyed his conversation, it is not perhaps the 
character in which he will be most frequently recalled—-most 
deeply lamented—or even most highly admired. Indepen¬ 
dently of his great attainments in mechanics, Mr. Watt was 
an extraordinary, and, in many respects, a wonderful man. 
Perhaps no individual in his age possessed so much and such 
varied and exact information,—had read so much, or re¬ 
membered what he had read so accurately and well. He 
had infinite quickness of apprehension, a prodigious me¬ 
mory, and a certain rectifying and methodising power of 
understanding, which extracted something precious out of 
all that was presented to it. His stores of miscellaneous 
knowledge were immense,—.and yet less astonishing than 
the command he had at all times over them. It seemed as 
if every subject that was casually started in conversation with 
him, had been that which he had been last occupied in stu¬ 
dying and exhausting;—such was the copiousness, the pre¬ 
cision, and the admirable clearness of the information which 
he poured out upon it without effort or hesitation. Nor was 
this promptitude and compass of knowledge confined in any 
degree to the studies connected with his ordinary pursuits. 
That he should have been minutely and extensively skilled 
in chemistry and the arts, and in most of the branches of 
physical science, might perhaps have been conjectured; but 
it could not have been inferred from his usual occupations, 
and probably is not generally known, that he was curiously 
learned in many branches of antiquity, metaphysics, medi¬ 
cine, and etymology, and perfectly at home in all the de¬ 
tails of architecture, music, and law. He was well acquainted, 
too, with most of the modern languages—and familiar with 
their most recent literature. Nor was it at all extraordinary to 
hear the great mechanician and engineer detailing and ex¬ 
pounding, for hours together, the metaphysical theories of 
the German logicians, or criticising the measures or the mat¬ 
ter of the German poetry. 
“ His astonishing memory was aided, no doubt, in a 
great measure, by a still higher and rarer faculty—by his 
power of digesting and arranging, in its proper place, all 
the information he received, and of casting aside and re¬ 
jecting, as it were instinctively, whatever was worthless or 
immaterial. Every conception that was suggested to his 
mind seemed instantly to take its place among its other rich 
furniture, and to be condensed into the smallest and most 
convenient form. He never appeared, therefore, to be at all 
encumbered or perplexed with the verbiage of the dull 
books he perused, or the idle talk to which he listened; but 
to have at once extracted, by a kind of intellectual alchemy, 
all that was worthy of attention, and to have reduced it for 
his own use, to its true value and to its simplest form. And 
thus it often happened that a great deal more was learned 
from his brief and vigorous account of the theories and ar¬ 
guments of tedious writers, than an ordinary student could 
ever have derived from the most faithful study of the origi¬ 
nals,—and that errors and absurdities became manifest from 
the mere clearness and plainness of his statement of them, 
which might have deluded and perplexed most of his hearers 
without that invaluable assistance. 
“ It is needless to say, that, with those vast resources, his 
conversation was at all times rich and instructive in no ordi¬ 
nary degree; but it was, if possible, still more pleasing than 
wise, and had all the charms of familiarity, with all the 
substantial treasures of knowledge. No man could be more 
social in his spirit, less assuming or fastidious in his man¬ 
ners, or more kind and indulgent towards all who approached 
him. He rather liked to talk,—at least in his latter years; 
hut though he took a considerable share of the conversation, 
he rarely suggested the topics on which it was to turn, but 
readily and quietly took up whatever was presented by those 
around him, and astonished the idle and barren propounders 
of an ordinary theme, by the treasures which he drew from 
the mine they had unconscioosly opened. He generally 
seemed, indeed, to have no choice or predilection for one 
subject of discourse rather than another; but allowed his 
mind, like a great cyclopaedia, to be opened at any letter his 
associates might choose to turn up, and only endeavoured to 
select from his inexhaustible stores what might be best 
adapted to the taste of his present hearers. As to their capa¬ 
city, he gave himself no trouble; and, indeed, such was his 
singular talent for making all things plain, clear, and intel¬ 
ligible, that scarcely any one could be aware of such a de¬ 
ficiency in his presence. His talk, too, though overflowing 
with information, had no resemblance to lecturing or solemn 
discoursing, but, on the contrary, was full of colloquial 
spirit and pleasantry. He had a certain quiet and grave hu¬ 
mour, which ran through most of his conversation, and a 
vein of temperate jocularity, which gave infinite zest and 
effect to the condensed and inexhaustible information which 
formed its main staple and characteristic. There was a little 
air of affected testiness, and a tone of pretended rebuke and 
contradiction, with which he used to address his younger 
friends, that was always felt by them as an endearing mark 
of his kindness and familiarity,-—and prized accordingly, 
far beyond all the solemn compliments that ever proceeded 
from the lips of authority. His voice was deep and power¬ 
ful,—though he commonly spoke in a low and somewhat 
monotonous tone, which harmonised admirably with the 
weight and brevity of his observations, and set off, to the 
greatest advantage, the pleasant anecdotes which he deli¬ 
vered, with the same grave brow and the same calm smile 
playing soberly on his lips. There was nothing of effort, 
indeed, or impatience, any more than of pride or levity, in 
his demeanour; and there was a finer expression of reposing 
strength, and mild self-possession in his manner, than we 
ever recollect to have met with in any other person. He had 
in his character the utmost abhorrence for all sorts of for¬ 
wardness, parade, and pretension; and, indeed, never failed 
to put all such impostors out of countenance, by the manly 
plainness and honest intrepidity of his language and de¬ 
portment. 
“ In his temper and dispositions he was not only kind and 
affectionate, but generous, and considerate of the feelings of 
all around him, and gave the most liberal assistance and 
encouragement to all young persons who showed any indi¬ 
cations of talent, or applied to him for patronage or advice. 
His health, which was delicate from his youth upwards, 
seemed to become firmer as he advanced in years; and he 
preserved, up almost to the last moment of his existence, not 
only the full command of his extraordinary intellect, but all 
the alacrity of spirit, and the social gaiety which had illu¬ 
minated his happiest days.” 
WATTAWA, a river of Bohemia, which rises near the 
frontier of Bavaria, and falls into the Muldau, near Prague. 
WATTEAU (Anthony), one of the most agreeable pain¬ 
ters of the French school, was born at Valenciennes in 1684. 
His parents were in indigent circumstances, and he was placed 
with an obscure artist in his native city, to cultivate a talent 
which manifested itself early. When he was about 16 years 
old, having already surpassed his preceptor, he connected 
himself with a scene-painter on his way to Paris, and for 
some time assisted his associate in decorating the opera-house 
in that city. When this engagement was completed, Watteau 
found it difficult to rescue himself from the obscurity and 
embarrassment into which he fell, when happily he became 
acquainted with Claude Gillot, a painter of grotesque and 
fabulous subjects, who was pleased with his works and dis¬ 
position. Gillot afforded him an asylum in his own house, 
and then instructed him in all he knew of the art, and found 
an apt and agreeable scholar in his protegee. With the 
help he thus received from Gillot, and his own admiration 
and attentive study of the Luxembourg gallery, he formed 
a taste for colouring, which, if not as grand, is at least as 
agreeable, as ever was employed by any one. 
He attempted to prepare himself for historical painting, 
and studied at the academy with that view; he even was so 
successful as to obtain the first prize there for an historical 
picture; 
