EXAMPLES OF THRIFT.
"Examples demonstrate the possibility of success."--_Cotton._
_"The force of his own merit, makes his way."--_Shakespeare._
"Reader, attend, whether thy soul
Soars Fancy's flight beyond the Pole,
Or darkling grubs this earthly hole
In low pursuit--
Know, prudent, cautious self-control,
Is wisdom's root."--_Burns._
"In the family, as in the State, the best source of wealth is
Economy."--_Cicero._
"Right action is the result of right faith; but a true and right faith
cannot be sustained, deepened, extended, save in a course of right
action."--_M'Combie._
Thrift is the spirit of order applied to domestic management and
organization. Its object is to manage frugally the resources of the
family; to prevent waste; and avoid useless expenditure. Thrift is under
the influence of reason and forethought, and never works by chance or by
fits. It endeavours to make the most and the best of everything. It does
not save money for saving's sake. It makes cheerful sacrifices for the
present benefit of others; or it submits to voluntary privation for some
future good.
Mrs. Inchbald, author of the "Simple Story," was, by dint of thrift,
able to set apart the half of her small income for the benefit of her
infirm sister. There was thus about two pounds a week for the
maintenance of each. "Many times," she says, "during the winter, when I
was crying with cold, have I said to myself, 'Thank God, my dear sister
need not leave her chamber; she will find her fire ready for her each
morning; for she is now far less able than I am to endure privation.'"
Mrs. Inchbald's family were, for the most part very poor; and she felt
it right to support them during their numerous afflictions. There is one
thing that may be say of Benevolence,--that it has never ruined anyone;
though selfishness and dissipation have ruined thousands.
The words "Waste not, want not," carved in stone over Sir Walter Scott's
kitchen fireplace at Abbotsford, expresses in a few words the secret of
Order in the midst of abundance. Order is most useful in the management
of everything,--of a household, of a business, of a manufactory, of an
army. Its maxim is--A place for everything, and everything in its place.
Order is wealth; for, whoever properly regulates the use of his income,
almost doubles his resources. Disorderly persons are rarely rich; and
orderly persons are rarely poor.
Order is the best manager of time; for unless work is properly arranged,
Time is lost; and, once lost, it is gone for ever. Order illustrates
many important subjects. Thus, obedience to the moral and natural law,
is order. Respect for ourselves and our neighbours, is order. Regard for
the rights and obligations of all, is order. Virtue is order. The world
began with order. Chaos prevailed, before the establishment of order.
Thrift is the spirit of order in human life. It is the prime agent in
private economy. It preserves the happiness of many a household. And as
it is usually woman who regulates the order of the household, it is
mainly upon her that the well-doing of society depends. It is therefore
all the more necessary that she should early be educated in the habit
and the virtue of orderliness.
The peer, the merchant, the clerk, the artizan, and the labourer, are
all of the same nature, born with the same propensities and subject to
similar influences. They are, it is true, born in different positions,
but it rests with themselves whether they shall live their lives nobly
or vilely. They may not have their choice of riches or poverty; but they
have their choice of being good or evil,--of being worthy or worthless.
People of the highest position, in point of culture and education, have
often as great privations to endure as the average of working people.
They have often to make their incomes go much further. They have to keep
up a social standing. They have to dress better; and live sufficiently
well for the purpose of health. Though their income may be less than
that of colliers and iron-workers, they are under the moral necessity of
educating their sons and bringing them up as gentlemen, so that they may
take their fair share of the world's work.
Thus, the tenth Earl of Buchan brought up a numerous family of children,
one of whom afterwards rose to be Lord Chancellor of England, upon an
income not exceeding two hundred a year. It is not the amount of income,
so much as the good use of it, that marks the true man; and viewed in
this light, good sense, good taste, and sound mental culture, are among
the best of all economists.
The late Dr. Aiton said that his father brought up a still larger family
on only half the income of the Earl of Buchan. The following dedication,
prefixed to his work on "Clerical Economics," is worthy of being
remembered: "This work is respectfully dedicated to a Father, now in the
eighty-third year of his age, who, on an income which never exceeded a
hundred pounds yearly, educated, out of a family of twelve children,
four sons to liberal professions, and who has often sent his last
shilling to each of them, in their turn, when they were at college."
The author might even cite his own case as an illustration of the
advantages of thrift. His mother was left a widow, when her youngest
child--the youngest of eleven--was only three weeks old. Notwithstanding
a considerable debt on account of a suretyship, which was paid, she
bravely met the difficulties of her position, and perseveringly overcame
them. Though her income was less than that of many highly paid working
men, she educated her children well, and brought them up religiously and
virtuously. She put her sons in the way of doing well, and if they have
not done so, it was through no fault of hers.
Hume, the historian, was a man of good family; but being a younger
brother, his means were very small. His father died while he was an
infant; he was brought up by his mother, who devoted herself entirely to
the rearing and educating of her children. At twenty-three, young Hume
went to France to prosecute his studies. "There," says he, in his
Autobiography, "I laid down that plan of life which I have steadily and
successfully pursued. I resolved to make a very rigid frugality supply
my deficiency of fortune, to maintain unimpaired my independency, and to
regard every object as contemptible, except the improvement of my
talents in literature." The first book he published was a complete
failure. But he went on again; composed and published another book,
which was a success. But he made no money by it. He became secretary to
the military embassy at Vienna and Turin; and at thirty-six he thought
himself rich. These are his own words: "My appointments, with my
frugality, had made me reach a fortune which I called independent,
though most of my friends were inclined to smile when I said so: in
short, I was now master of near a thousand pounds." Every one knows that
a thousand pounds, at five per cent., means fifty pounds a year; and
Hume considered himself independent with that income. His friend Adam
Smith said of him: "Even in the lowest state of his fortune, his great
and necessary frugality never hindered him from exercising, upon proper
occasions, acts both of charity and generosity. It was a frugality
founded not on avarice, but upon the love of independency."
But one of the most remarkable illustrations of Thrift is to be found in
the history of the Rev. Robert Walker--the _Wonderful_ Robert Walker, as
he is still called in the district of Cumberland where he resided. He
was curate of Leathwaite during the greater part of last century. The
income of the curacy, at the time of his appointment (1735), was only
five pounds a year. His wife brought him a fortune of forty pounds. Is
it possible that he could contrive to live upon his five pounds a year,
the interest of his wife's fortune, and the result of his labours as a
clergyman? Yes, he contrived to do all this; and he not only lived well,
though plainly, but he saved money, which he left for the benefit of his
family. He accomplished all this by means of industry, frugality, and
temperance.
First, about his industry. He thoroughly did the work connected with his
curacy. The Sabbath was in all respects regarded by him as a holy day.
After morning and evening service, he devoted the evening to reading the
Scriptures and family prayer. On weekdays, he taught the children of the
parish, charging nothing for the education, but only taking so much as
the people chose to give him. The parish church was his school; and
while the children were repeating their lessons by his side, he was,
like Shenstone's schoolmistress, engaged in spinning wool. He had the
right of pasturage upon the mountains for a few sheep and a couple of
cows, which required his attendance. With this pastoral occupation he
joined the labours of husbandry, for he rented two or three acres of
land in addition to his own acre of glebe, and he also possessed a
garden,--the whole of which was tilled by his own hand. The fuel of the
house consisted of peat, procured by his labour from the neighbouring
mosses. He also assisted his parishioners in haymaking and shearing
their flocks,--in which latter art he was eminently dexterous. In
return, the neighbours would present him with a haycock, or a fleece, as
a general acknowledgment of his services.
After officiating as curate of Leathwaite for about twenty years, the
annual value of the living was increased to seventeen pounds ten
shillings. His character being already well known and highly
appreciated, the Bishop of Carlisle offered Mr. Walker the appointment
of the adjoining curacy of Ulpha; but he conscientiously refused it, on
the ground that the annexation "would be apt to cause a general
discontent among the inhabitants of both places, by either thinking
themselves slighted, being only served alternately, or neglected in the
duty, or attributing it to covetousness in me; all which occasions of
murmuring I would willingly avoid." Yet at this time Mr. Walker had a
family of eight children. He afterwards maintained one of his sons at
Trinity College Dublin, until he was ready for taking Holy Orders.
The parish pastor was, of course, a most economical man. Yet no act of
his life savoured in the least degree of meanness or avarice. On the
other hand, his conduct throughout life displayed the greatest
disinterestedness and generosity. He knew very little of luxuries, and
he cared less. Tea was only used in his house for visitors. The family
used milk, which was indeed far better. Excepting milk, the only other
drink used in the house was water--clear water drawn from the mountain
spring. The clothing of the family was comely and decent; but it was all
home-made: it was simple, like their diet. Occasionally one of the
mountain sheep was killed for purposes of food; and towards the end of
the year, a cow was killed and salted down for provision during winter.
The hide was tanned, and the leather furnished shoes for the family. By
these and other means, this venerable clergyman reared his numerous
family; not only preserving them, as he so affectingly says, "from
wanting the necessaries of life," but affording them "an unstinted
education, and the means of raising themselves in society."[1]
Many men, in order to advance themselves in the world, and to raise
themselves in society, have "scorned delights and lived laborious days."
They have lived humbly and frugally, in order to accomplish greater
things. They have supported themselves by their hand labour, until they
could support themselves by their head labour. Some may allege that this
is not justifiable--that it is a sin against the proletariat to attempt
to rise in the world,--that "once a cobbler always a cobbler." But,
until a better system has been established, the self-application of
individuals is the only method by which science and knowledge can be
conquered, and the world permanently advanced.
Goethe says, "It is perfectly indifferent within what circle an honest
man acts, provided he do but know how to understand and completely fill
out that circle;" and again, "An honest and vigorous will could make
itself a path and employ its activity to advantage under every form of
society." "What is the best government?" he asks: "That which teaches us
to govern ourselves!" All that we need, in his opinion, is individual
liberty, and self-culture. "Let every one," he says, "only do the right
in his place, without troubling himself about the turmoil of the world."
[Footnote 1: The best account of Mr. Walker is to be found in the
Appendix to the Poems of Wordsworth. The poet greatly appreciated the
clergyman's character, and noticed him in his "Excursion," as well as in
the Notes to the Sonnets entitled "The River Duddon."]
At all events, it is not by socialism, but by individualism, that
anything has been done towards the achievement of knowledge, and the
advancement of society. It is the will and determination of individual
men that impels the world forward in art, in science, and in all the
means and methods of civilization.
Individual men are willing to deny themselves, but associated
communities will not. The masses are too selfish, and fear that
advantage will be taken of any sacrifices which they may be called upon
to make. Hence it is amongst the noble band of resolute spirits that we
look for those who raise and elevate the world, as well as themselves.
The recollection of what they have done, acts as a stimulus to others.
It braces the mind of man, reanimates his will, and encourages him to
further exertions.
When Lord Elcho addressed the East Lothian colliers, he named several
men who had raised themselves from the coalpit; and first of all he
referred to Mr. Macdonald, member for Stafford. "The beginning of my
acquaintance with Mr. Macdonald," he said, "was, when I was told that a
miner wanted to see me in the lobby of the House of Commons. I went out
and saw Mr. Macdonald, who gave me a petition from this district, which
he asked me to present. I entered into conversation with him, and was
much struck by his intelligence. He told me that he had begun life as a
boy in the pit in Lanarkshire, and that the money he saved as a youth in
the summer, he spent at Glasgow University in the winter; and that is
where he got whatever book-learning or power of writing he possesses. I
say that is an instance that does honour to the miners of Scotland.
Another instance was that of Dr. Hogg, who began as a pitman in this
county; worked in the morning, attended school in the afternoon; then
went to the University for four years and to the Theological Hall for
five years; and afterwards, in consequence of his health failing, he
went abroad, and is now engaged as a missionary in Upper Egypt. Or take
the case of Mr. (now Sir George) Elliot, member for North Durham, who
has spoken up for the miners all the better, for having had practical
knowledge of their work. He began as a miner in the pit, and he worked
his way up till he has in his employment many thousand men. He has risen
to his great wealth and station from the humblest position; as every man
who now hears me is capable of doing, to a greater or less degree, if he
will only be thrifty and industrious."
Lord Elcho might also have mentioned Dr. Hutton, the geologist, a man of
a much higher order of genius; who was the son of a coal-viewer. Bewick,
the wood engraver, is also said to have been the son of a coal-miner.
Dr. Campbell was the son of a Loanhead collier: he was the forerunner of
Moffat and Livingstone, in their missionary journeys among the Bechuanas
in South Africa. Allan Ramsay, the poet, was also the son of a miner.
George Stephenson worked his way from the pithead to the highest
position as an engineer. George began his life with industry, and when
he had saved a little money, he spent it in getting a little learning.
What a happy man he was, when his wages were increased to twelve
shillings a week. He declared upon that occasion that he was "made a man
for life!" He was not only enabled to maintain himself upon his
earnings, but to help his poor parents, and to pay for his own
education. When his skill had increased, and his wages were advanced to
a pound a week, he immediately began, like a thoughtful, intelligent
workman, to lay by his surplus money; and when he had saved his first
guinea, he proudly declared to one of his colleagues that he "was now a
rich man!"
And he was right. For the man who, after satisfying his wants, has
something to spare, is no longer poor. It is certain that from that day
Stephenson never looked back; his advance as a self-improving man was as
steady as the light of sunrise. A person of large experience has indeed
stated that he never knew, amongst working people, a single instance of
a man having out of his small earnings laid by a pound, who had in the
end become a pauper.
When Stephenson proposed to erect his first locomotive, he had not
sufficient means to defray its cost. But in the course of his life as a
workman, he had established a character. He was trusted. He was
faithful. He was a man who could be depended on. Accordingly, when the
Earl of Havensworth was informed of Stephenson's desire to erect a
locomotive, he at once furnished him with the means for enabling him to
carry his wishes into effect.
Watt, also, when inventing the condensing steam-engine, maintained
himself by making and selling mathematical instruments. He made flutes,
organs, compasses,--anything that would maintain him, until he had
completed his invention. At the same time he was perfecting his own
education--learning French, German, mathematics, and the principles of
natural philosophy. This lasted for many years; and by the time that
Watt developed his steam-engine and discovered Mathew Boulton, he had,
by his own efforts, become an accomplished and scientific man.
These great workers did not feel ashamed of labouring with their hands
for a living; but they also felt within themselves the power of doing
head-work as well as hand-work. And while thus labouring with their
hands, they went on with their inventions, the perfecting of which has
proved of so much advantage to the world. Hugh Miller furnished, in his
own life, an excellent instance of that practical common sense in the
business of life which he so strongly recommended to others. When he
began to write poetry, and felt within him the growing powers of a
literary man, he diligently continued his labour as a stone-cutter.
Horace Walpole has said that Queen Caroline's patronage of Stephen Duck,
the thresher poet, ruined twenty men, who all turned poets. It was not
so with the early success of Hugh Miller. "There is no more fatal
error," he says, "into which a working man of a literary turn can fall,
than the mistake of deeming himself too good for his humble employments;
and yet it is a mistake as common as it is fatal. I had already seen
several poor wrecked mechanics, who, believing themselves to be poets,
and regarding the manual occupation by which they could alone live in
independence as beneath them, and become in consequence little better
than mendicants,--too good to work for their bread, but not too good
virtually to beg it; and looking upon them as beacons of warning, I
determined that, with God's help, I should give their error a wide
offing, and never associate the idea of meanness with an honest calling,
or deem myself too good to be independent."
At the same time, a man who feels that he has some good work in him,
which study and labour might yet bring out, is fully justified in
denying himself, and in applying his energies to the culture of his
intellect. And it is astonishing how much carefulness, thrift, the
reading of books, and diligent application, will help such men onward.
The author in his boyhood knew three men who worked in an agricultural
implement maker's shop. They worked in wood and iron, and made carts,
ploughs, harrows, drilling-machines, and such-like articles. Somehow or
other, the idea got into their heads that they might be able to do
something better than making carts and harrows. They did not despise the
lot of hand-labour, but they desired to use it as a step towards
something better. Their wages at that time could not have exceeded from
eighteen to twenty shillings a week.
Two of the young men, who worked at the same bench, contrived to save
enough money to enable them to attend college during the winter. At the
end of each session they went back to their hand-labour, and earned
enough wages during the summer to enable them to return to their classes
during the winter. The third did not adopt this course. He joined a
mechanics' institute which had just been started in the town in which he
lived. By attending the lectures and reading the books in the library,
he acquired some knowledge of chemistry, of the principles of mechanics,
and of natural philosophy. He applied himself closely, studied hard in
his evening hours, and became an accomplished man.
It is not necessary to trace their history; but what they eventually
arrived at, may be mentioned. Of the first two, one became the teacher
and proprietor of a large public school; the other became a well-known
dissenting minister; while the third, working his way strenuously and
bravely, became the principal engineer and manager of the largest
steamship company in the world.
Although mechanics' institutes are old institutions, they have scarcely
been supported by working men. The public-house is more attractive and
more frequented. And yet mechanics' institutes--even though they are
scarcely known south of Yorkshire and Lancashire--have been the means of
doing a great deal of good. By placing sound mechanical knowledge within
the reach of even the few persons who have been disposed to take
advantage of them, they have elevated many persons into positions of
great social influence. "We have heard a distinguished man say publicly,
that a mechanics' institution had _made him_; that but for the access
which it had afforded him to knowledge of all kinds, he would have
occupied a very different position. In short, the mechanics' institution
had elevated him from the position of a licensed victualler to that of
an engineer.
We have referred to the wise practice of men in humble position
maintaining themselves by their trade until they saw a way towards
maintaining themselves by a higher calling. Thus Herschell maintained
himself by music, while pursuing his discoveries in astronomy. When
playing the oboe in the pump-room at Bath, he would retire while the
dancers were lounging round the room, go out and take a peep at the
heavens through his telescope, and quietly return to his instrument. It
was while he was thus maintaining himself by music, that he discovered
the Georgium Sidus. When the Royal Society recognized his discovery, the
oboe-player suddenly found himself famous.
Franklin long maintained himself by his trade of printing. He was a
hard-working man,--thrifty, frugal and a great saver of time. He worked
for character as much as for wages; and when it was found that he could
be relied on, he prospered. At length he was publicly recognized as a
great statesman, and as one of the most scientific men of his time.
Ferguson, the astronomer, lived by portrait painting, until his merits
as a scientific man were recognized. John Dollond maintained himself as
a silk weaver in Spitalfields. In the course of his studies he made
great improvements in the refracting telescope; and the achromatic
telescope, which he invented, gave him a high rank among the
philosophers of his age. But during the greater part of his life, while
he was carrying on his investigations, he continued, until the age of
forty-six, to carry on his original trade. At length he confined himself
entirely to making telescopes; and then he gave up his trade of a silk
weaver. Winckelmann, the distinguished writer on classical antiquities
and the fine arts, was the son of a shoemaker. His father endeavoured,
as long as he could, to give his hoy a learned education; but becoming
ill and worn-out, he had eventually to retire to the hospital.
Winckelmann and his father were once accustomed to sing at night in the
streets to raise fees to enable the boy to attend the grammar school.
The younger Winckelmann then undertook, by hard labour, to support his
father; and afterwards, by means of teaching, to keep himself at
college. Every one knows how distinguished he eventually became.
Samuel Richardson, while writing his novels, stuck to his trade of a
bookseller. He sold his books in the front shop, while he wrote them in
the back. He would not give himself up to authorship, because he loved
his independence. "You know," he said to his friend Defreval, "how my
business engages me. You know by what snatches of time I write, that I
may not neglect that, and that I may preserve that independency which is
the comfort of my life. I never sought out of myself for patrons. My own
industry and God's providence have been my whole reliance. The great are
not great to me unless they are good, and it is a glorious privilege
that a middling man enjoys, who has preserved his independency, and can
occasionally (though not stoically) tell the world what he thinks of
that world, in hopes to contribute, though by his mite, to mend it."
The late Dr. Olynthus Gregory, in addressing the Deptford Mechanics'
Institution at their first anniversary, took the opportunity of
mentioning various men in humble circumstances (some of whom he had been
able to assist), who, by means of energy, application, and self-denial,
had been able to accomplish great things in the acquisition of
knowledge. Thus he described the case of a Labourer on the turnpike
road, who had become an able Greek scholar; of a Fifer, and a Private
Soldier, in a regiment of militia, both self-taught mathematicians, one
of whom became a successful schoolmaster, the other a lecturer on
natural philosophy; of a journeyman Tin-plate worker, who invented rules
for the solution of cubic equations; of a country Sexton, who became a
teacher of music, and who, by his love of the study of musical science,
was transformed from a drunken sot to an exemplary husband and father;
of a Coal Miner (a correspondent of Dr. Gregory's), who was an able
writer on topics of the higher mathematics; of another correspondent, a
labouring Whitesmith, who was also well acquainted with the course of
pure mathematics, as taught at Cambridge, Dublin, and the military
colleges; of a Tailor, who was an excellent geometrician, and had
discovered curves which escaped the notice of Newton, and who laboured
industriously and contentedly at his trade until sixty years of age,
when, by the recommendation of his scientific friends, he was appointed
Nautical Examiner at the Trinity House; of a ploughman in Lincolnshire,
who, without aid of men or books, discovered the rotation of the earth,
the principles of spherical astronomy, and invented a planetary system
akin to the Tychonic; of a country Shoemaker, who became distinguished
as one of the ablest metaphysical writers in Britain, and who, at more
than fifty years of age, was removed by the influence of his talents and
their worth, from his native country to London, where he was employed to
edit some useful publications devoted to the diffusion of knowledge and
the best interests of mankind.
Students of Art have had to practise self-denial in many ways. Quentin
Matsys, having fallen in love with a painter's daughter, and determined
to win her. Though but a blacksmith and a farrier, he studied art so
diligently, and acquired so much distinction, that his mistress
afterwards accepted the painter whom she had before rejected as the
blacksmith. Flaxman, however, married his wife before he had acquired
any distinction whatever as an artist. He was merely a skilful and
promising pupil. When Sir Joshua Reynolds heard of his marriage, he
exclaimed, "Flaxman is ruined for an artist!" But it was not so. When
Flaxman's wife heard of the remark, she said, "Let us work and
economize; I will never have it said that Ann Denbam ruined John Flaxman
as an artist." They economized accordingly. To earn money, Flaxman
undertook to collect the local rates; and what with art and industry,
the patient, hard-working, thrifty couple, after five years of careful
saving, set out for Rome together. There Flaxman studied and worked;
there he improved his knowledge of art; and there he acquired the
reputation of being the first of English sculptors.
The greater number of artists have sprung from humble life. If they had
been born rich, they would probably never have been artists. They have
had to work their way from one position to another; and to strengthen
their nature by conquering difficulty. Hogarth began his career by
engraving shop-bills. William Sharp began by engraving door-plates.
Tassie the sculptor and medallist, began life as a stone-cutter. Having
accidentally seen a collection of pictures, he aspired to become an
artist and entered an academy to learn the elements of drawing. He
continued to work at his old trade until he was able to maintain himself
by his new one. He used his labour as the means of cultivating his skill
in his more refined and elevated profession.
Chantry of Sheffield, was an economist both of time and money. He saved
fifty pounds out of his earnings as a carver and gilder; paid the money
to his master, and cancelled his indentures. Then he came up to London,
and found employment as a journeyman carver; he proceeded to paint
portraits and model busts, and at length worked his way to the first
position as a sculptor.
Canova was a stone-cutter, like his father and his grandfather; and
through stone-cutting he worked his way to sculpture. After leaving the
quarry, he went to Venice, and gave his services to an artist, from whom
he received but little recompense for his work. "I laboured," said he,
"for a mere pittance, but it was sufficient. It was the fruit of my own
resolution; and, as I then flattered myself, the foretaste of more
honourable rewards,--for I never thought of wealth." He pursued his
studies,--in drawing and modelling; in languages, poetry, history,
antiquity, and the Greek and Roman classics. A long time elapsed before
his talents were recognised, and then he suddenly became famous.
Lough, the English sculptor, is another instance of self-denial and hard
work. When a boy, he was fond of drawing. At school, he made drawings of
horses, dogs, cows, and men, for pins: that was his first pay; and he
used to go home with his jacket sleeve stuck full of them. He and his
brothers next made figures in clay. Pope's Homer lay on his father's
window. The boys were so delighted with it, that they made thousands of
models--one taking the Greeks, and the other the Trojans. An odd volume
of Gibbon gave an account of the Coliseum. After the family were in bed,
the brothers made a model of the Coliseum, and filled it with fighting
gladiators. As the boys grew up, they were sent to their usual outdoor
work, following the plough and doing the usual agricultural labour; but
still adhering to their modelling at leisure hours. At Christmas-time,
Lough was very much in demand. Everybody wanted him to make models in
pastry for Christmas pies,--the neighbouring farmers especially, "It was
capital practice," he afterwards said.
At length Lough went from Newcastle to London, to push his way in the
world of art. He obtained a passage in a collier, the skipper of which
he knew. When he reached London, he slept on board the collier as long
as it remained in the Thames. He was so great a favourite with the men,
that they all urged him to go back. He had no friends, no patronage, no
money; What could he do with everything against him? But, having already
gone so far, he determined to proceed. He would not go back--at least,
not yet. The men all wept when he took farewell of them. He was alone in
London; under the shadow of St. Paul's.
His next step was to take a lodging in an obscure first floor in
Burleigh Street, over a greengrocer's shop; and there he began to model
his grand statue of Milo. He had to take the roof off to let Milo's head
out. There Haydon found him, and was delighted with his genius. "I
went," he says, "to young Lough, the sculptor, who has just burst out,
and has produced a great effect. His Milo is really the most
extraordinary thing, considering all the circumstances, in modern
sculpture. It is another proof of the efficacy of inherent genius." [1]
That Lough must have been poor enough at this time, is evident from the
fact that, during the execution of his Milo, he did not eat meat for
three months; and when Peter Coxe found him out, he was tearing up his
shirt to make wet rags for his figure, to keep the clay moist. He had a
bushel and a half of coals during the whole winter; and he used to lie
down by the side of his clay model of the immortal figure, damp as it
was, and shiver for hours till he fell asleep.
[Footnote 1: Haydon's _Autobiography_, vol. ii., p, 155.]
Chantrey once said to Haydon, "When I have made money enough, I will
devote myself to high art." But busts engrossed Chantrey's time. He was
munificently paid for them, and never raised himself above the
money-making part of his profession. When Haydon next saw Chantrey at
Brighton, he said to him, "Here is a young man from the country, who has
come to London; and he is doing precisely what you have so long been
dreaming of doing."
The exhibition of Milo was a great success. The Duke of Wellington went
to see it, and ordered a statue. Sir Matthew White Eidley was much
struck by the genius of young Lough, and became one of his greatest
patrons. The sculptor determined to strike out a new path for himself.
He thought the Greeks had exhausted the Pantheistic, and that heathen
gods had been overdone. Lough began and pursued the study of lyric
sculpture: he would illustrate the great English poets. But there was
the obvious difficulty of telling the story of a figure by a single
attitude. It was like a flash of thought. "The true artist," he said,
"must plant his feet firmly on the earth, and sweep the heavens with his
pencil. I mean," he added, "that the soul must be combined with the
body, the ideal with the real, the heavens with the earth."
It is not necessary to describe the success of Mr. Lough as a sculptor.
His statue of "The Mourners" is known all over the world. He has
illustrated Shakespeare and Milton. His Puck, Titania, and other great
works, are extensively known, and their genius universally admired. But
it may be mentioned that his noble statue of Milo was not cast in bronze
until 1862, when it was exhibited at the International Exhibition of
that year.
The Earl of Derby, in recently distributing the prizes to the successful
pupils of the Liverpool College[1], made the following observations:--
"The vast majority of men, in all ages and countries, must work before
they can eat. Even those who are not under the necessity, are, in
England, generally impelled by example, by custom, perhaps by a sense of
what is fitted for them, to adopt what is called an active pursuit of
some sort.... If there is one thing more certain than another, it is
this--that every member of a community is bound to do something for that
community, in return for what he gets from it; and neither intellectual
cultivation, nor the possession of material wealth, nor any other plea
whatever, except that of physical or mental incapacity, can excuse any
of us from that plain and personal duty.... And though it may be, in a
community like this, considered by some to be a heterodox view, I will
say that it often appears to me, in the present day, that we are a
little too apt in all classes to look upon ourselves as mere machines
for what is called 'getting on,' and to forget that there are in every
human being many faculties which cannot be employed, and many wants
which cannot be satisfied, by that occupation. I have not a word to
utter against strenuous devotion to business while you are at it. But
one of the wisest and most thoroughly cultivated men whom I ever knew,
retired before the age of fifty, from a profession in which he was
making an enormous income, because, he said, he had got as much as he or
any one belonging to him could want, and he did not see why he should
sacrifice the rest of his life to money-getting. Some people thought him
very foolish. I did not. And I believe that the gentleman of whom I
speak never once repented his decision."
[Footnote 1: A collection ought to be made and published of Lord Derby's
admirable Addresses to Young Men.]
The gentleman to whom Lord Derby referred was Mr. Nasmyth, the inventor
of the steam hammer. And as he has himself permitted the story of his
life to be published, there is no necessity for concealing his name. His
life is besides calculated to furnish one of the best illustrations of
our subject. When a boy, he was of a bright, active, cheerful
disposition. To a certain extent he inherited his mechanical powers from
his father, who, besides being an excellent painter, was a thorough
mechanic. It was in his workshop that the boy made his first
acquaintance with tools. He also had for his companion the son of an
iron-founder, and he often went to the founder's shop to watch the
moulding, iron-melting, casting, forging, pattern-making, and smith's
work that was going on.
"I look back," Mr. Nasmyth says, "to the hours of Saturday afternoons
spent in having the run of the workshops of this small foundry as the
true and only apprenticeship of my life. I did not trust to reading
about such things. I saw, handled, and helped when I could; and all the
ideas in connection with them became in all details, ever after,
permanent in my mind,--to say nothing of the no small acquaintance
obtained at the same time of the nature of workmen."
In course of time, young Nasmyth, with the aid of his father's tools,
could do little jobs for himself. He made steels for tinder-boxes, which
he sold to his schoolfellows. He made model steam-engines, and sectional
models, for use at popular lectures and in schools; and by selling such
models, he raised sufficient money to enable him to attend the lectures
on Natural Philosophy and Chemistry at the Edinburgh University. Among
his works at that time, was a working model of a steam carriage for use
on common roads. It worked so well that he was induced to make another
on a larger scale. After having been successfully used, he sold the
engine for the purpose of driving a small factory.
Nasmyth was now twenty years old, and wished to turn his practical
faculties to account. His object was to find employment in one of the
great engineering establishments of the day. The first, in his opinion,
was that of Henry Maudslay, of London. To attain his object, he made a
small steam-engine, every part of which was his own handiwork, including
the casting and forging. He proceeded to London; introduced himself to
the great engineer; submitted his drawings; showed his models; and was
finally engaged as Mr. Maudslay's private workman.
Then came the question of wages. When Nasmyth finally left home to begin
the world on his own account, he determined _not to cost his father
another farthing_. Being the youngest of eleven children, he thought
that he could maintain himself, without trenching farther upon the
family means. And he nobly fulfilled his determination. He felt that the
wages sufficient to maintain other workmen, would surely be sufficient
to maintain him. He might have to exercise self-control and self-denial;
but of course he could do that. Though but a youth, he had wisdom enough
and self-respect enough to deny himself everything that was unnecessary,
in order to preserve the valuable situation which he had obtained.
Well, about the wages. When Mr. Maudslay referred his young workman to
the chief cashier as to his weekly wages, it was arranged that Nasmyth
was to receive ten shillings a week. He knew that, by strict economy, he
could live within this amount. He contrived a small cooking apparatus,
of which we possess the drawings. It is not necessary to describe his
method of cooking, nor his method of living; it is sufficient to say
that his little cooking apparatus (in which he still takes great pride)
enabled him fully to accomplish his purpose. He lived within his means,
and did not cost his father another farthing.
Next year his wages were increased to fifteen shillings. He then began
to save money. He did not put it in a bank, but used his savings for the
purpose of making the tools with which he afterwards commenced business.
In the third year of his service, his wages were again increased, on
account, doubtless, of the value of his services. "I don't know," he has
since said, "that any future period of my life abounded in such high
enjoyment of existence as the three years I spent at Maudslay's. It was
a glorious situation for one like myself,--so earnest as I was in all
that related to mechanism--in the study of men as well as of machinery.
I wish many a young man would do as I then did. I am sure they would
find their reward in that feeling of constant improvement, of daily
advancement, and true independence, which will ever have a charm for
those who are earnest in their endeavours to make right progress in life
and in the regard of all good men."
After three years spent at Maudslay's, Mr. Nasmyth returned to Edinburgh
to construct a small stock of engineering tools suitable for starting
him in business on his own account. He hired a workshop and did various
engineering jobs, in order to increase his little store of money and to
execute his little stock of tools. This occupied him for two years; and
in 1834 he removed the whole of his tools and machinery to Manchester.
He began business there in a very humble way, but it increased so
rapidly that he was induced to remove to a choice piece of land on the
banks of the Bridgewater Canal at Patricroft, and there make a
beginning--at first in wooden sheds--of the now famous Bridgewater
Foundry.
"There," says he, "I toiled right heartily until December 31st, 1856,
when I retired to enjoy, in _active_ leisure, the result of many an
anxious and interesting day. I had there, with the blessing of God,
devoted the best years of my life to the pursuit of a business of which
I was proud. And I trust that, without undue vanity, I may be allowed to
say that I have left my mark upon several useful inventions, which
probably have had no small share in the mechanical works of the age.
There is scarcely a steamship or locomotive that is not indebted to my
steam hammer; and without it, Armstrong and Whitworth guns and
iron-plated men-of-war could scarcely have existed."
But though Nasmyth retired from business at the age of forty-eight, he
did not seek repose in idleness. He continues to be as busy as the
busiest; but in an altogether different direction. Instead of being tied
to the earth, he enjoys himself amongst the stars. By means of
telescopes of his own making, he has investigated the sun, and
discovered its "willow leaves;" he has examined and photographed the
moon, and in the monograph of it which he has published, he has made us
fully acquainted with its geography. He is also a thorough artist, and
spends a considerable portion of his time in painting,--though he is too
modest to exhibit. The last time we visited his beautiful home at
Hammerfield, he was busy polishing glasses for one of his new
telescopes,--the motive power being a windmill erected on one of his
outhouses.
Another word before we have done. "If," said Nasmyth, "I were to try to
compress into one sentence the whole of the experience I have had during
an active and successful life, and offer it to young men as a rule and
certain receipt for success in any station, it would be composed in
these words--'Duty _first!_ Pleasure _second!_' From what I have seen of
young men and their after-progress, I am satisfied that what is
generally termed 'bad fortune,' 'ill luck,' and 'misfortune,' is in nine
cases out of ten, simply the result of _inverting_ the above simple
maxim. Such experience as I have had, convinces me that absence of
success arises in the great majority of cases from want of self-denial
and want of common sense. The worst of all maxims is 'Pleasure _first!_
Work and Duty _second!_"