see the honors paid by that journal to its late editor-in-chief. An
obituary notice of several columns was surrounded by black lines; a mark
of respect which the paper would pay only to members of the royal
family, or to some public man of universal renown. Never before, I
believe, did this newspaper avow to the world that its editor had a
name; and the editor himself usually affected to conceal his
professional character. Former editors, in fact, would flatly deny their
connection with the paper, and made a great secret of a fact which was
no secret at all.
Mr. Carlyle, in his "Life of Sterling," gives a curious illustration of
this. Sir Robert Peel, in 1835, upon resigning his ministry, wrote a
letter to the editor of "The Times," thanking him for the powerful
support which his administration had received from that journal. Sir
Robert Peel did not presume to address this letter to any individual by
name, and he declared in this letter that the editor was unknown to him
even by sight. Edward Sterling replied in a lofty tone, very much as one
king might reply to another, and signed the letter simply "The Editor of
'The Times.'"
But all this is changed. The affectation of secrecy, long felt to be
ridiculous, has been abandoned, and the editor now circulates freely
among his countrymen in his true character, as the conductor of the
first journal in Europe. At his death he receives the honors due to the
office he holds and the power he exerts, and his funeral is publicly
attended by his associates. This is as it should be. Journalism has now
taken its place as one of the most important of the liberal professions.
Next to statesmanship, next to the actual conduct of public affairs, the
editor of a leading newspaper fills, perhaps, the most important place
in the practical daily life of the community in which he lives; and the
influence of the office is likely to increase, rather than diminish.
Mr. Delane was probably the first individual who was ever educated with
a distinct view to his becoming an editor. While he was still a boy, his
father, a solicitor by profession, received an appointment in the office
of "The Times," which led to young Delane's acquaintance with the
proprietors of the journal. It seems they took a fancy to the lad. They
perceived that he had the editorial cast of character, since, in
addition to uncommon industry and intelligence, he had a certain
eagerness for information, an aptitude for acquiring it, and a
discrimination in weighing it, which marks the journalistic mind. The
proprietors, noting these traits, encouraged, and, I believe, assisted
him to a university education, in the expectation that he would fit
himself for the life editorial.
Having begun this course of preparation early, he entered the office of
"The Times" as editorial assistant soon after he came of age, and
acquitted himself so well that, in 1841, when he was not yet
twenty-five, he became editor-in-chief. He was probably the youngest man
who ever filled such a post in a daily paper of anything like equal
importance. This rapid promotion will be thought the more remarkable
when it is mentioned that he never wrote an editorial in his life. "The
Times" itself says of him:--
"He never was a writer. He never even attempted to write anything,
except reports and letters. These he had to do, and he did them well. He
had a large staff of writers, and it was not necessary he should write,
except to communicate with them."
His not being a writer was one of his strongest points. Writing is a
career by itself. The composition of one editorial of the first class
is a very hard day's work, and one that leaves to the writer but a small
residue of vital force. Writing for the public is the most arduous and
exhausting of all industries, and cannot properly be combined with any
other. Nor can a man average more than two or three editorial articles a
week such as "The Times" prints every day. It was an immense advantage
to the paper to have an editor who was never tempted to waste any of his
strength upon the toil of composition. "The Times" prints daily three
editorial articles, which cost the paper on an average fifty dollars
each. Mr. Delane himself mentioned this during his visit to this
country.
There was one quality of his editorship which we ought not to overlook.
It was totally free from personalities. I have been in the habit for a
long time of reading "The Times"--not regularly but very frequently, and
sometimes every day for a considerable period; but I have never seen an
individual disrespectfully mentioned in the paper. An opinion may be
denounced; but the individual holding that opinion is invariably spoken
of with decency. "The Times" has frequently objected to the course
pursued by Mr. Gladstone; but the man himself is treated with precisely
the same respect as he would be if he were an invited guest at the
editor's table.
"The Times," being a human institution, has plenty of faults, and has
made its ample share of mistakes; but it owes its eminent position
chiefly to its good qualities, its business ability, its patriotism, its
liberal enterprise, and wise treatment of those who serve it. The paper
is still chiefly owned and conducted by John Walter, the grandson of the
founder.
GEORGE HOPE.
The story of this stalwart and skillful Scotch farmer, George Hope,
enables us to understand what agitators mean by the term "landlordism."
It is a very striking case, as the reader will admit.
George Hope, born in 1811, was the son of a tenant farmer of the county
of East Lothian, now represented in Parliament by Mr. Gladstone. The
farm on which he was born, on which his ancestors had lived, and upon
which he spent the greater part of his own life, was called Fenton
Barns. With other lands adjacent, it made a farm of about eight hundred
acres. Two thirds of it were of a stiff, retentive clay, extremely hard
to work, and the rest was little better than sand, of a yellow color and
incapable of producing grain.
Two or three generations of Hopes had spent life and toil unspeakable
upon this unproductive tract, without making the least profit by it;
being just able to pay their rent, and keep their heads above water.
They subsisted, reared families, and died, worn out with hard work,
leaving to their sons, besides an honest name, only the same inheritance
of struggle and despair. George Hope's mother tried for years to
squeeze out of her butter and eggs the price of a table large enough for
all her family to sit round at once, but died without obtaining it.
At the age of eighteen years, George Hope took hold of this unpromising
farm, his parents being in declining health, nearly exhausted by their
long struggle with it. He brought to his task an intelligent and
cultivated mind. He had been for four years in a lawyer's office. He had
read with great admiration the writings of the American Channing; and he
now used his intelligence in putting new life into this old land.
The first thing was to acquire more capital; and the only way of
accomplishing this was to do much of the work himself. Mere manual
labor, however, would not have sufficed; for he found himself baffled by
the soil. Part of the land being wet, cold clay, and part yellow sand,
he improved both by mixing them together. He spread sand upon his clay,
and clay upon his sand, as well as abundant manure, and he established a
kiln for converting some of the clay into tiles, with which he drained
his own farm, besides selling large quantities of tiles to the
neighboring farmers. For a time, he was in the habit of burning a kiln
of eleven thousand tiles every week, and he was thus enabled to expend
in draining his own farms about thirteen thousand dollars, without going
in debt for it.
He believed in what is called "high farming," and spent enormous sums
in fertilizing the soil. For a mere top-dressing of guano, bones,
nitrate of soda, or sulphate of ammonia, he spent one spring eight
thousand dollars. These large expenditures, directed as they were by a
man who thoroughly understood his business, produced wonderful results.
He gained a large fortune, and his farm became so celebrated, that
travelers arrived from all parts of Europe, and even from the United
States, to see it. An American called one day to inspect the farm, when
Mr. Hope began, as usual, to express his warm admiration for Dr.
Channing. The visitor was a nephew of the distinguished preacher, and he
was exceedingly surprised to find his uncle so keenly appreciated in
that remote spot.
It is difficult to say which of his two kinds of land improved the most
under his vigorous treatment. His sandy soil, the crop of which in
former years was sometimes blown out of the ground, was so strengthened
by its dressing of clay as to produce excellent crops of wheat; and his
clay fields were made among the most productive in Scotland by his
system of combined sanding, draining and fertilizing.
One of his secrets was that he treated his laborers with justice and
consideration. His harvest-homes were famous in their day. When he found
that certain old-fashioned games caused some of his weak teetotalers to
fall from grace, he changed them for others; and, instead of beer and
toddy, provided abundance of tea, coffee, strawberries, and other
dainties. When the time came for dancing, he took the lead, and could
sometimes boast that he had not missed one dance the whole evening. In
addressing a public meeting of farmers and landlords in 1861, he spoke
on the subject of improving the cottages of farm laborers. These were
some of the sentences which fell from his lips:--
"Treat your laborers with respect, as men; encourage their self-respect.
Never enter a poor man's house any more than a rich man's unless
invited, and then go not to find fault, but as a friend. If you can
render him or his family a service, by advice or otherwise, let it be
more delicately done than to your most intimate associate. Remember how
hard it is for a poor man to respect himself. He hears the wealthy
styled the respectable, and the poor, the lower classes; but never call
a man low. His being a _man_ dwarfs, and renders as nothing, all the
distinctions of an earthly estate."
The reader sees what kind of person this George Hope was. He was as
nearly a perfect character as our very imperfect race can ordinarily
exhibit. He was a great farmer, a true captain of industry, an honest,
intelligent, just, and benevolent man. He was, moreover, a good citizen,
and this led him to take an interest in public matters, and to do his
utmost in aid of several reasonable reforms. He was what is called a
Liberal in politics. He did what he could to promote the reform bill of
Lord John Russell, and he was a conspicuous ally of Cobden and Bright
in their efforts to break down the old corn laws. He remembered that
there were about five thousand convictions in Great Britain every year
under the game laws, and he strove in all moderate and proper ways to
have those laws repealed.
And now we come to the point. A certain person named R. A. Dundas
Christopher Nisbet Hamilton married the heiress of the estate to which
the farm of George Hope belonged. He thus acquired the power, when a
tenant's lease expired, to refuse a renewal. This person was a Tory, who
delighted in the slaughter of birds and beasts, and who thought it
highly impertinent in the tenant of a farm to express political opinions
contrary to those of his landlord. George Hope, toward the end of his
long lease, offered to take the farm again, at a higher rent than he had
ever before paid, though it was himself who had made the farm more
valuable. His offer was coldly declined, and he was obliged, after
expending the labor and skill of fifty-three years upon that land, to
leave it, and find another home for his old age.
He had fortunately made money enough to buy a very good farm for
himself, and he had often said that he would rather farm fifty acres of
his own than to be the tenant of the best farm in Europe. This
"eviction," as it was called, of a farmer so celebrated attracted
universal comment, and excited general indignation. He left his farm
like a conqueror. Public dinners and services of plate were presented to
him, and his landlord of many names acquired a notoriety throughout
Europe which no doubt he enjoyed. He certainly did a very bold action,
and one which casts a perfect glare of light upon the nature of
landlordism.
George Hope died in 1876, universally honored in Scotland. He lies
buried in the parish of his old farm, not far from the home of his
fathers. On his tombstone is inscribed:--
"To the memory of George Hope, for many years tenant of Fenton Barns. He
was the devoted supporter of every movement which tended to the
advancement of civil and religious liberty, and to the moral and social
elevation of mankind."
SIR HENRY COLE.
He was an "Old Public Functionary" in the service of the British people.
When President Buchanan spoke of himself as an Old Public Functionary he
was a good deal laughed at by some of the newspapers, and the phrase has
since been frequently used in an opprobrious or satirical sense. This is
to be regretted, for there is no character more respectable, and there
are few so useful, as an intelligent and patriotic man of long standing
in the public service. What _one_ such man can do is shown by the
example of Sir Henry Cole, who died a few months ago in London after
half a century of public life.
The son of an officer in the British army, he was educated at that
famous Blue-Coat School which is interesting to Americans because Lamb
and Coleridge attended it. At the age of fifteen he received an
appointment as clerk in the office of Public Records. In due time,
having proved his capacity and peculiar fitness, he was promoted to the
post of Assistant Keeper, which gave him a respectable position and some
leisure.
He proved to be in an eminent sense the right man in the right place.
Besides publishing, from time to time, curious and interesting documents
which he discovered in his office, he called attention, by a series of
vigorous pamphlets, to the chaotic condition in which the public records
of Great Britain were kept. Gradually these pamphlets made an
impression, and they led at length to a reform in the office. The
records were rearranged, catalogued, rendered safe, and made accessible
to students. This has already led to important corrections in history,
and to a great increase in the sum of historical knowledge.
When the subject of cheap postage came up in 1840, the government
offered four prizes of a hundred pounds each for suggestions in aid of
Sir Rowland Hill's plan. One of these prizes was assigned to Henry Cole.
He was one of the persons who first became converts to the idea of penny
postage, and he lent the aid of his pen and influence to its adoption.
At length, about the year 1845, he entered upon the course of
proceedings which rendered him one of the most influential and useful
persons of his time. He had long lamented the backward condition of arts
of design in England, and the consequent ugliness of the various objects
in the sight and use of which human beings pass their lives. English
furniture, wall-papers, carpets, curtains, cutlery, garments,
upholstery, ranged from the tolerable to the hideous, and were inferior
to the manufactures of France and Germany. He organized a series of
exhibitions on a small scale, somewhat similar to those of the American
Institute in New York, which has held a competitive exhibition of
natural and manufactured objects every autumn for the last fifty years.
His exhibitions attracted attention, and they led at length to the
Crystal Palace Exhibition of 1851. The merit of that scheme must be
shared between Henry Cole and Prince Albert. Cole suggested that his
small exhibitions should, once in five years, assume a national
character, and invite contributions from all parts of the empire. Yes,
said Prince Albert, and let us also invite competition from foreign
countries on equal terms with native products.
The Exhibition of 1851 was admirably managed, and had every kind of
success. It benefited England more than all other nations put together,
because it revealed to her people their inferiority in many branches
both of workmanship and design. We all know how conceited people are apt
to become who have no opportunity to compare themselves with superiors.
John Bull, never over-modest, surveyed the Exhibition of 1851, and
discovered, to his great surprise, that he was not the unapproachable
Bull of the universe which he had fondly supposed. He saw himself beaten
in some things by the French, in some by the Germans, in others by the
Italians, and in a few (O wonder!) by the Yankees.
Happily he had the candor to admit this humiliating fact to himself, and
he put forth earnest and steadfast exertions to bring himself up to the
level of modern times.
Henry Cole was the life and soul of the movement. It was he who called
attention to the obstacles placed in the way of improvement by the
patent laws, and some of those obstacles, through him, were speedily
removed.
During this series of services to his country, he remained in the office
of Public Records. The government now invited him to another sphere of
labor. They asked him to undertake the reconstruction of the schools of
design, and they gave him an office which placed him practically at the
head of the various institutions designed to promote the application of
art to manufacture. The chief of these now is the Museum of South
Kensington, which is to many Americans the most interesting object in
London. The creation of this wonderful museum was due more to him than
to any other individual.
It came to pass in this way: After the close of the Crystal Palace in
1851, Parliament gave five thousand pounds for the purchase of the
objects exhibited which were thought best calculated to raise the
standard of taste in the nation. These objects, chiefly selected by
Cole, were arranged by him for exhibition in temporary buildings of
such extreme and repulsive inconvenience as to bring opprobrium and
ridicule upon the undertaking. It was one of the most difficult things
in the world to excite public interest in the exhibition. But by that
energy which comes of strong conviction and patriotic feeling, and of
the opportunity given him by his public employment, Henry Cole wrung
from a reluctant Parliament the annual grants necessary to make South
Kensington Museum what it now is.
Magnificent buildings, filled with a vast collection of precious and
interesting objects, greet the visitor. There are collections of armor,
relics, porcelain, enamel, fabrics, paintings, statues, carvings in wood
and ivory, machines, models, and every conceivable object of use or
beauty. Some of the most celebrated pictures in the world are there, and
there is an art library of thirty thousand volumes. There are schools
for instruction in every branch of art and science which can be supposed
to enter into the products of industry. The prizes which are offered for
excellence in design and invention have attracted, in some years, as
many as two hundred thousand objects. During three days of every week
admission to this superb assemblage of exhibitions is free, and on the
other three days sixpence is charged.
The influence of this institution upon British manufactures has been in
many branches revolutionary. As the London "Times" said some time
ago:--
"There is hardly a household in the country that is not the better for
the change; there is certainly no manufacture in which design has any
place which has not felt its influence."
The formation of this Museum, the chief work of Sir Henry Cole's useful
life, was far from exhausting his energies. He has borne a leading part
in all the industrial exhibitions held in London during the last quarter
of a century, and served as English commissioner at the Paris
exhibitions of 1855 and 1867.
This man was enabled to render all this service to his country, to
Europe, and to us, because he was not obliged to waste any of his
energies in efforts to keep his place. Administrations might change, and
Parliaments might dissolve; but he was a fixture as long as he did his
duty. When his duty was fairly done, and he had completed the fortieth
year of his public service, he retired on his full salary, and he was
granted an honorable title; for a title _is_ honorable when it is won by
good service. Henceforth he was called Sir Henry Cole, K. C. B.
To the end of his life he continued to labor in all sorts of good
works--a Training School for Music, a Training School for Cookery,
guilds for the promotion of health, and many others. He died in April,
1882, aged seventy-four years.
CHARLES SUMMERS.
Strangers visiting Melbourne, the chief city of Australia, will not be
allowed to overlook four great marble statues which adorn the public
library. They are the gift of Mr. W. J. Clark, one of the distinguished
public men of that growing empire. These statues represent, in a sitting
posture, Queen Victoria, Prince Albert, the Prince of Wales, and the
Princess of Wales. They are larger than life, and, according to the
Australian press, they are admirable works in every respect.
They were executed by Charles Summers, a sculptor long resident in that
colony, where he practiced his art with great success, as the public
buildings and private houses of Melbourne attest. Many of his works
remain in the colony, and he may be said to be the founder of his form
of art in that part of the world. The history of this man's life is so
remarkable that I think it will interest the reader.
Sixty years ago, Charles Summers was a little, hungry, ragged boy in
English Somersetshire, who earned four cents a day by scaring the crows
from the wheat fields. I have seen myself such little fellows engaged
in this work, coming on duty before four in the morning, and remaining
till eight in the evening, frightening away the birds by beating a tin
pan with a stick, not unfrequently chasing them and throwing stones at
them. He was the son of a mason, who had eight children, and squandered
half his time and money in the tap-room. Hence, this boy, from the age
of eight or nine years, smart, intelligent, and ambitious, was
constantly at work at some such employment; and often, during his
father's drunken fits, he was the chief support of the family.
Besides serving as scare-crow, he assisted his father in his mason's
work, and became a hod-carrier as soon as he was able to carry a hod.
Sometimes he accompanied his father to a distant place in search of
employment, and he was often seen on the high-road, in charge of the
drunkard, struggling to get him home before he had spent their united
earnings in drink. In these deplorable circumstances, he acquired a
dexterity and patience which were most extraordinary. Before he was
twelve years old he began to handle the chisel and the mallet, and his
work in squaring and facing a stone soon surpassed that of boys much
older than himself. He was observed to have a strong propensity to do
fancy stone-work. He obtained, as a boy, some local celebrity for his
carved gate posts, and other ornamental objects in stone. So great was
his skill and industry, that, by the time he was nineteen years of age,
besides having maintained a large family for years, he had saved a sum
equal to a hundred dollars.
Then a piece of good fortune happened to him. A man came from London to
set up in a parish church near by a monumental figure, and looked about
for a skillful mason to assist him. Charles Summers was mentioned as the
best hand in the neighborhood, and upon him the choice fell. Thus he was
introduced to the world of art, for this figure had been executed by
Henry Weekes, a distinguished London sculptor. The hardships of his
childhood had made a man of him at this early age, a thoughtful and
prudent man. Taking with him ten of his twenty pounds, he went to London
and applied for employment in the studio of Henry Weekes. This artist
employed several men, but he had no vacant place except the humble one
of stone polisher, which required little skill. He accepted the place
with alacrity and delight, at a salary of five dollars a week.