The teakettle was singing merrily over the fire; the good aunt was
bustling round, on housewifely cares intent, and her little nephew sat
dreamily gazing into the glowing blaze on the kitchen hearth.
Presently the teakettle ceased singing, and a column of steam came
rushing from its pipe. The boy started to his feet, raised the lid from
the kettle, and peered in at the bubbling, boiling water, with a look
of intense interest. Then he rushed off for a teacup, and, holding it
over the steam, eagerly watched the latter as it condensed and formed
into tiny drops of water on the inside of the cup.
Returning from an upper room, whither her duties had called her, the
thrifty aunt was shocked to find her nephew engaged in so profitless an
occupation, and soundly scolded him for what she called his trifling.
The good lady little dreamed that James Watt was even then
unconsciously studying the germ of the science by which he "transformed
the steam engine from a mere toy into the most wonderful instrument
which human industry has ever had at its command."
This studious little Scottish lad, who, because too frail to go to
school, had been taught at home, was very different from other boys.
When only six or seven years old, he would lie for hours on the hearth,
in the little cottage at Greenock, near Glasgow, where he was born in
1736, drawing geometrical figures with pieces of colored chalk. He
loved, too, to gaze at the stars, and longed to solve their mysteries.
But his favorite pastime was to burrow among the ropes and sails and
tackles in his father's store, trying to find out how they were made
and what purposes they served.
In spite of his limited advantages and frail health, at fifteen he was
the wonder of the public school, which he had attended for two years.
His favorite studies were mathematics and natural philosophy. He had
also made good progress in chemistry, physiology, mineralogy, and
botany, and, at the same time, had learned carpentry and acquired some
skill as a worker in metals.
So studious and ambitious a youth scarcely needed the spur of poverty
to induce him to make the most of his talents. The spur was there,
however, and, at the age of eighteen, though delicate in health, he was
obliged to go out and battle with the world.
Having first spent some time in Glasgow, learning how to make
mathematical instruments, he determined to go to London, there to
perfect himself in his trade.
Working early and late, and suffering frequently from cold and hunger,
he broke down under the unequal strain, and was obliged to return to
his parents for a time until health was regained.
Always struggling against great odds, he returned to Glasgow when his
trade was mastered, and began to make mathematical instruments, for
which, however, he found little sale. Then, to help eke out a living,
he began to make and mend other instruments,--fiddles, guitars, and
flutes,--and finally built an organ,--a very superior one, too,--with
several additions of his own invention.
A commonplace incident enough it seemed, in the routine of his daily
occupation, when, one morning, a model of Newcomen's engine was brought
to him for repair, yet it marked the turning point in his career, which
ultimately led from poverty and struggle to fame and affluence.
Watt's practiced eye at once perceived the defects in the Newcomen
engine, which, although the best then in existence could not do much
better or quicker work than horses. Filled with enthusiasm over the
plans which he had conceived for the construction of a really powerful
engine, he immediately set to work, and spent two months in an old
cellar, working on a model. "My whole thoughts are bent on this
machine," he wrote to a friend. "I can think of nothing else."
So absorbed had he become in his new work that the old business of
making and mending instruments had declined. This was all the more
unfortunate as he was no longer struggling for himself alone. He had
fallen in love with, and married, his cousin, Margaret Miller, who
brought him the greatest happiness of his life. The neglect of the only
practical means of support he had reduced Watt and his family to the
direst poverty. More than once his health failed, and often the brave
spirit was almost broken, as when he exclaimed in heaviness of heart,
"Of all the things in the world, there is nothing so foolish as
inventing."
Five years had passed since the model of the Newcomen engine had been
sent to him for repair before he succeeded in securing a patent on his
own invention. Yet five more long years of bitter drudgery, clutched in
the grip of poverty, debt, and sickness, did the brave inventor,
sustained by the love and help of his noble wife, toil through. On his
thirty-fifth birthday he said, "To-day I enter the thirty-fifth year of
my life, and I think I have hardly yet done thirty-five pence worth of
good in the world; but I cannot help it."
Poor Watt! He had traveled with bleeding feet along the same thorny
path trod by the great inventors and benefactors of all ages. But, in
spite of all obstacles, he persevered; and, after ten years of
inconceivable labor and hardship, during which his beautiful wife died,
he had a glorious triumph. His perfected steam engine was the wonder of
the age. Sir James Mackintosh placed him "at the head of all inventors
in all ages and nations." "I look upon him," said the poet Wordsworth,
"considering both the magnitude and the universality of his genius, as,
perhaps, the most extraordinary man that this country ever produced."
Wealthy beyond his desires,--for he cared not for wealth,--crowned with
the laurel wreath of fame, honored by the civilized world as one of its
greatest benefactors, the struggle over, the triumph achieved, on
August 19, 1819, he lay down to rest.