A similar illustration of plodding industry in the same walk is
presented in the career of George Kemp, the architect of the
beautiful Scott Monument at Edinburgh.  He was the son of a poor
shepherd, who pursued his calling on the southern slope of the
Pentland Hills.  Amidst that pastoral solitude the boy had no
opportunity of enjoying the contemplation of works of art.  It
happened, however, that in his tenth year he was sent on a message
to Roslin, by the farmer for whom his father herded sheep, and the
sight of the beautiful castle and chapel there seems to have made a
vivid and enduring impression on his mind.  Probably to enable him
to indulge his love of architectural construction, the boy besought
his father to let him be a joiner; and he was accordingly put
apprentice to a neighbouring village carpenter.  Having served his
time, he went to Galashiels to seek work.  As he was plodding along
the valley of the Tweed with his tools upon his back, a carriage
overtook him near Elibank Tower; and the coachman, doubtless at the
suggestion of his master, who was seated inside, having asked the
youth how far he had to walk, and learning that he was on his way
to Galashiels, invited him to mount the box beside him, and thus to
ride thither.  It turned out that the kindly gentleman inside was
no other than Sir Walter Scott, then travelling on his official
duty as Sheriff of Selkirkshire.  Whilst working at Galashiels,
Kemp had frequent opportunities of visiting Melrose, Dryburgh, and
Jedburgh Abbeys, which he studied carefully.  Inspired by his love
of architecture, he worked his way as a carpenter over the greater
part of the north of England, never omitting an opportunity of
inspecting and making sketches of any fine Gothic building.  On one
occasion, when working in Lancashire, he walked fifty miles to
York, spent a week in carefully examining the Minster, and returned
in like manner on foot.  We next find him in Glasgow, where he
remained four years, studying the fine cathedral there during his
spare time.  He returned to England again, this time working his
way further south; studying Canterbury, Winchester, Tintern, and
other well-known structures.  In 1824 he formed the design of
travelling over Europe with the same object, supporting himself by
his trade.  Reaching Boulogne, he proceeded by Abbeville and
Beauvais to Paris, spending a few weeks making drawings and studies
at each place.  His skill as a mechanic, and especially his
knowledge of mill-work, readily secured him employment wherever he
went; and he usually chose the site of his employment in the
neighbourhood of some fine old Gothic structure, in studying which
he occupied his leisure.  After a year's working, travel, and study
abroad, he returned to Scotland.  He continued his studies, and
became a proficient in drawing and perspective:  Melrose was his
favourite ruin; and he produced several elaborate drawings of the
building, one of which, exhibiting it in a "restored" state, was
afterwards engraved.  He also obtained employment as a modeller of
architectural designs; and made drawings for a work begun by an
Edinburgh engraver, after the plan of Britton's 'Cathedral
Antiquities.'  This was a task congenial to his tastes, and he
laboured at it with an enthusiasm which ensured its rapid advance;
walking on foot for the purpose over half Scotland, and living as
an ordinary mechanic, whilst executing drawings which would have
done credit to the best masters in the art.  The projector of the
work having died suddenly, the publication was however stopped, and
Kemp sought other employment.  Few knew of the genius of this man--
for he was exceedingly taciturn and habitually modest--when the
Committee of the Scott Monument offered a prize for the best
design.  The competitors were numerous--including some of the
greatest names in classical architecture; but the design
unanimously selected was that of George Kemp, who was working at
Kilwinning Abbey in Ayrshire, many miles off, when the letter
reached him intimating the decision of the committee.  Poor Kemp!
Shortly after this event he met an untimely death, and did not live
to see the first result of his indefatigable industry and self-
culture embodied in stone,--one of the most beautiful and
appropriate memorials ever erected to literary genius.

John Gibson was another artist full of a genuine enthusiasm and
love for his art, which placed him high above those sordid
temptations which urge meaner natures to make time the measure of
profit.  He was born at Gyffn, near Conway, in North Wales--the son
of a gardener.  He early showed indications of his talent by the
carvings in wood which he made by means of a common pocket knife;
and his father, noting the direction of his talent, sent him to
Liverpool and bound him apprentice to a cabinet-maker and wood-
carver.  He rapidly improved at his trade, and some of his carvings
were much admired.  He was thus naturally led to sculpture, and
when eighteen years old he modelled a small figure of Time in wax,
which attracted considerable notice.  The Messrs. Franceys,
sculptors, of Liverpool, having purchased the boy's indentures,
took him as their apprentice for six years, during which his genius
displayed itself in many original works.  From thence he proceeded
to London, and afterwards to Rome; and his fame became European.

Robert Thorburn, the Royal Academician, like John Gibson, was born
of poor parents.  His father was a shoe-maker at Dumfries.  Besides
Robert there were two other sons; one of whom is a skilful carver
in wood.  One day a lady called at the shoemaker's and found
Robert, then a mere boy, engaged in drawing upon a stool which
served him for a table.  She examined his work, and observing his
abilities, interested herself in obtaining for him some employment
in drawing, and enlisted in his behalf the services of others who
could assist him in prosecuting the study of art.  The boy was
diligent, pains-taking, staid, and silent, mixing little with his
companions, and forming but few intimacies.  About the year 1830,
some gentlemen of the town provided him with the means of
proceeding to Edinburgh, where he was admitted a student at the
Scottish Academy.  There he had the advantage of studying under
competent masters, and the progress which he made was rapid.  From
Edinburgh he removed to London, where, we understand, he had the
advantage of being introduced to notice under the patronage of the
Duke of Buccleuch.  We need scarcely say, however, that of whatever
use patronage may have been to Thorburn in giving him an
introduction to the best circles, patronage of no kind could have
made him the great artist that he unquestionably is, without native
genius and diligent application.

Noel Paton, the well-known painter, began his artistic career at
Dunfermline and Paisley, as a drawer of patterns for table-cloths
and muslin embroidered by hand; meanwhile working diligently at
higher subjects, including the drawing of the human figure.  He
was, like Turner, ready to turn his hand to any kind of work, and
in 1840, when a mere youth, we find him engaged, among his other
labours, in illustrating the 'Renfrewshire Annual.'  He worked his
way step by step, slowly yet surely; but he remained unknown until
the exhibition of the prize cartoons painted for the houses of
Parliament, when his picture of the Spirit of Religion (for which
he obtained one of the first prizes) revealed him to the world as a
genuine artist; and the works which he has since exhibited--such as
the 'Reconciliation of Oberon and Titania,' 'Home,' and 'The bluidy
Tryste'--have shown a steady advance in artistic power and culture.

Another striking exemplification of perseverance and industry in
the cultivation of art in humble life is presented in the career of
James Sharples, a working blacksmith at Blackburn.  He was born at
Wakefield in Yorkshire, in 1825, one of a family of thirteen
children.  His father was a working ironfounder, and removed to
Bury to follow his business.  The boys received no school
education, but were all sent to work as soon as they were able; and
at about ten James was placed in a foundry, where he was employed
for about two years as smithy-boy.  After that he was sent into the
engine-shop where his father worked as engine-smith.  The boy's
employment was to heat and carry rivets for the boiler-makers.
Though his hours of labour were very long--often from six in the
morning until eight at night--his father contrived to give him some
little teaching after working hours; and it was thus that he
partially learned his letters.  An incident occurred in the course
of his employment among the boiler-makers, which first awakened in
him the desire to learn drawing.  He had occasionally been employed
by the foreman to hold the chalked line with which he made the
designs of boilers upon the floor of the workshop; and on such
occasions the foreman was accustomed to hold the line, and direct
the boy to make the necessary dimensions.  James soon became so
expert at this as to be of considerable service to the foreman; and
at his leisure hours at home his great delight was to practise
drawing designs of boilers upon his mother's floor.  On one
occasion, when a female relative was expected from Manchester to
pay the family a visit, and the house had been made as decent as
possible for her reception, the boy, on coming in from the foundry
in the evening, began his usual operations upon the floor.  He had
proceeded some way with his design of a large boiler in chalk, when
his mother arrived with the visitor, and to her dismay found the
boy unwashed and the floor chalked all over.  The relative,
however, professed to be pleased with the boy's industry, praised
his design, and recommended his mother to provide "the little
sweep," as she called him, with paper and pencils.

Encouraged by his elder brother, he began to practise figure and
landscape drawing, making copies of lithographs, but as yet without
any knowledge of the rules of perspective and the principles of
light and shade.  He worked on, however, and gradually acquired
expertness in copying.  At sixteen, he entered the Bury Mechanic's
Institution in order to attend the drawing class, taught by an
amateur who followed the trade of a barber.  There he had a lesson
a week during three months.  The teacher recommended him to obtain
from the library Burnet's 'Practical Treatise on Painting;' but as
he could not yet read with ease, he was under the necessity of
getting his mother, and sometimes his elder brother, to read
passages from the book for him while he sat by and listened.
Feeling hampered by his ignorance of the art of reading, and eager
to master the contents of Burnet's book, he ceased attending the
drawing class at the Institute after the first quarter, and devoted
himself to learning reading and writing at home.  In this he soon
succeeded; and when he again entered the Institute and took out
'Burnet' a second time, he was not only able to read it, but to
make written extracts for further use.  So ardently did he study
the volume, that he used to rise at four o'clock in the morning to
read it and copy out passages; after which he went to the foundry
at six, worked until six and sometimes eight in the evening; and
returned home to enter with fresh zest upon the study of Burnet,
which he continued often until a late hour.  Parts of his nights
were also occupied in drawing and making copies of drawings.  On
one of these--a copy of Leonardo da Vinci's "Last Supper"--he spent
an entire night.  He went to bed indeed, but his mind was so
engrossed with the subject that he could not sleep, and rose again
to resume his pencil.

He next proceeded to try his hand at painting in oil, for which
purpose he procured some canvas from a draper, stretched it on a
frame, coated it over with white lead, and began painting on it
with colours bought from a house-painter.  But his work proved a
total failure; for the canvas was rough and knotty, and the paint
would not dry.  In his extremity he applied to his old teacher, the
barber, from whom he first learnt that prepared canvas was to be
had, and that there were colours and varnishes made for the special
purpose of oil-painting.  As soon therefore, as his means would
allow, he bought a small stock of the necessary articles and began
afresh,--his amateur master showing him how to paint; and the pupil
succeeded so well that he excelled the master's copy.  His first
picture was a copy from an engraving called "Sheep-shearing," and
was afterwards sold by him for half-a-crown.  Aided by a shilling
Guide to Oil-painting, he went on working at his leisure hours, and
gradually acquired a better knowledge of his materials.  He made
his own easel and palette, palette-knife, and paint-chest; he
bought his paint, brushes, and canvas, as he could raise the money
by working over-time.  This was the slender fund which his parents
consented to allow him for the purpose; the burden of supporting a
very large family precluding them from doing more.  Often he would
walk to Manchester and back in the evenings to buy two or three
shillings' worth of paint and canvas, returning almost at midnight,
after his eighteen miles' walk, sometimes wet through and
completely exhausted, but borne up throughout by his inexhaustible
hope and invincible determination.  The further progress of the
self-taught artist is best narrated in his own words, as
communicated by him in a letter to the author:-

"The next pictures I painted," he says, "were a Landscape by
Moonlight, a Fruitpiece, and one or two others; after which I
conceived the idea of painting 'The Forge.'  I had for some time
thought about it, but had not attempted to embody the conception in
a drawing.  I now, however, made a sketch of the subject upon
paper, and then proceeded to paint it on canvas.  The picture
simply represents the interior of a large workshop such as I have
been accustomed to work in, although not of any particular shop.
It is, therefore, to this extent, an original conception.  Having
made an outline of the subject, I found that, before I could
proceed with it successfully, a knowledge of anatomy was
indispensable to enable me accurately to delineate the muscles of
the figures.  My brother Peter came to my assistance at this
juncture, and kindly purchased for me Flaxman's 'Anatomical
studies,'--a work altogether beyond my means at the time, for it
cost twenty-four shillings.  This book I looked upon as a great
treasure, and I studied it laboriously, rising at three o'clock in
the morning to draw after it, and occasionally getting my brother
Peter to stand for me as a model at that untimely hour.  Although I
gradually improved myself by this practice, it was some time before
I felt sufficient confidence to go on with my picture.  I also felt
hampered by my want of knowledge of perspective, which I
endeavoured to remedy by carefully studying Brook Taylor's
'Principles;' and shortly after I resumed my painting.  While
engaged in the study of perspective at home, I used to apply for
and obtain leave to work at the heavier kinds of smith work at the
foundry, and for this reason--the time required for heating the
heaviest iron work is so much longer than that required for heating
the lighter, that it enabled me to secure a number of spare minutes
in the course of the day, which I carefully employed in making
diagrams in perspective upon the sheet iron casing in front of the
hearth at which I worked."

Thus assiduously working and studying, James Sharples steadily
advanced in his knowledge of the principles of art, and acquired
greater facility in its practice.  Some eighteen months after the
expiry of his apprenticeship he painted a portrait of his father,
which attracted considerable notice in the town; as also did the
picture of "The Forge," which he finished soon after.  His success
in portrait-painting obtained for him a commission from the foreman
of the shop to paint a family group, and Sharples executed it so
well that the foreman not only paid him the agreed price of
eighteen pounds, but thirty shillings to boot.  While engaged on
this group he ceased to work at the foundry, and he had thoughts of
giving up his trade altogether and devoting himself exclusively to
painting.  He proceeded to paint several pictures, amongst others a
head of Christ, an original conception, life-size, and a view of
Bury; but not obtaining sufficient employment at portraits to
occupy his time, or give him the prospect of a steady income, he
had the good sense to resume his leather apron, and go on working
at his honest trade of a blacksmith; employing his leisure hours in
engraving his picture of "The Forge," since published.  He was
induced to commence the engraving by the following circumstance.  A
Manchester picture-dealer, to whom he showed the painting, let drop
the observation, that in the hands of a skilful engraver it would
make a very good print.  Sharples immediately conceived the idea of
engraving it himself, though altogether ignorant of the art.  The
difficulties which he encountered and successfully overcame in
carrying out his project are thus described by himself:-

"I had seen an advertisement of a Sheffield steel-plate maker,
giving a list of the prices at which he supplied plates of various
sizes, and, fixing upon one of suitable dimensions, I remitted the
amount, together with a small additional sum for which I requested
him to send me a few engraving tools.  I could not specify the
articles wanted, for I did not then know anything about the process
of engraving.  However, there duly arrived with the plate three or
four gravers and an etching needle; the latter I spoiled before I
knew its use.  While working at the plate, the Amalgamated Society
of Engineers offered a premium for the best design for an
emblematical picture, for which I determined to compete, and I was
so fortunate as to win the prize.  Shortly after this I removed to
Blackburn, where I obtained employment at Messrs. Yates',
engineers, as an engine-smith; and continued to employ my leisure
time in drawing, painting, and engraving, as before.  With the
engraving I made but very slow progress, owing to the difficulties
I experienced from not possessing proper tools.  I then determined
to try to make some that would suit my purpose, and after several
failures I succeeded in making many that I have used in the course
of my engraving.  I was also greatly at a loss for want of a proper
magnifying glass, and part of the plate was executed with no other
assistance of this sort than what my father's spectacles afforded,
though I afterwards succeeded in obtaining a proper magnifier,
which was of the utmost use to me.  An incident occurred while I
was engraving the plate, which had almost caused me to abandon it
altogether.  It sometimes happened that I was obliged to lay it
aside for a considerable time, when other work pressed; and in
order to guard it against rust, I was accustomed to rub over the
graven parts with oil.  But on examining the plate after one of
such intervals, I found that the oil had become a dark sticky
substance extremely difficult to get out.  I tried to pick it out
with a needle, but found that it would almost take as much time as
to engrave the parts afresh.  I was in great despair at this, but
at length hit upon the expedient of boiling it in water containing
soda, and afterwards rubbing the engraved parts with a tooth-brush;
and to my delight found the plan succeeded perfectly.  My greatest
difficulties now over, patience and perseverance were all that were
needed to bring my labours to a successful issue.  I had neither
advice nor assistance from any one in finishing the plate.  If,
therefore, the work possess any merit, I can claim it as my own;
and if in its accomplishment I have contributed to show what can be
done by persevering industry and determination, it is all the
honour I wish to lay claim to."

It would be beside our purpose to enter upon any criticism of "The
Forge" as an engraving; its merits having been already fully
recognised by the art journals.  The execution of the work occupied
Sharples's leisure evening hours during a period of five years; and
it was only when he took the plate to the printer that he for the
first time saw an engraved plate produced by any other man.  To
this unvarnished picture of industry and genius, we add one other
trait, and it is a domestic one.  "I have been married seven
years," says he, "and during that time my greatest pleasure, after
I have finished my daily labour at the foundry, has been to resume
my pencil or graver, frequently until a late hour of the evening,
my wife meanwhile sitting by my side and reading to me from some
interesting book,"--a simple but beautiful testimony to the
thorough common sense as well as the genuine right-heartedness of
this most interesting and deserving workman.

The same industry and application which we have found to be
necessary in order to acquire excellence in painting and sculpture,
are equally required in the sister art of music--the one being the
poetry of form and colour, the other of the sounds of nature.
Handel was an indefatigable and constant worker; he was never cast
down by defeat, but his energy seemed to increase the more that
adversity struck him.  When a prey to his mortifications as an
insolvent debtor, he did not give way for a moment, but in one year
produced his 'Saul,' 'Israel,' the music for Dryden's 'Ode,' his
'Twelve Grand Concertos,' and the opera of 'Jupiter in Argos,'
among the finest of his works.  As his biographer says of him, "He
braved everything, and, by his unaided self, accomplished the work
of twelve men."

Haydn, speaking of his art, said, "It consists in taking up a
subject and pursuing it."  "Work," said Mozart, "is my chief
pleasure."  Beethoven's favourite maxim was, "The barriers are not
erected which can say to aspiring talents and industry, 'Thus far
and no farther.'"  When Moscheles submitted his score of 'Fidelio'
for the pianoforte to Beethoven, the latter found written at the
bottom of the last page, "Finis, with God's help."  Beethoven
immediately wrote underneath, "O man! help thyself!"  This was the
motto of his artistic life.  John Sebastian Bach said of himself,
"I was industrious; whoever is equally sedulous, will be equally
successful."  But there is no doubt that Bach was born with a
passion for music, which formed the mainspring of his industry, and
was the true secret of his success.  When a mere youth, his elder
brother, wishing to turn his abilities in another direction,
destroyed a collection of studies which the young Sebastian, being
denied candles, had copied by moonlight; proving the strong natural
bent of the boy's genius.  Of Meyerbeer, Bayle thus wrote from
Milan in 1820:- "He is a man of some talent, but no genius; he
lives solitary, working fifteen hours a day at music."  Years
passed, and Meyerbeer's hard work fully brought out his genius, as
displayed in his 'Roberto,' 'Huguenots,' 'Prophete,' and other
works, confessedly amongst the greatest operas which have been
produced in modern times.

Although musical composition is not an art in which Englishmen have
as yet greatly distinguished themselves, their energies having for
the most part taken other and more practical directions, we are not
without native illustrations of the power of perseverance in this
special pursuit.  Arne was an upholsterer's son, intended by his
father for the legal profession; but his love of music was so
great, that he could not be withheld from pursuing it.  While
engaged in an attorney's office, his means were very limited, but,
to gratify his tastes, he was accustomed to borrow a livery and go
into the gallery of the Opera, then appropriated to domestics.
Unknown to his father he made great progress with the violin, and
the first knowledge his father had of the circumstance was when
accidentally calling at the house of a neighbouring gentleman, to
his surprise and consternation he found his son playing the leading
instrument with a party of musicians.  This incident decided the
fate of Arne.  His father offered no further opposition to his
wishes; and the world thereby lost a lawyer, but gained a musician
of much taste and delicacy of feeling, who added many valuable
works to our stores of English music.

The career of the late William Jackson, author of 'The Deliverance
of Israel,' an oratorio which has been successfully performed in
the principal towns of his native county of York, furnishes an
interesting illustration of the triumph of perseverance over
difficulties in the pursuit of musical science.  He was the son of
a miller at Masham, a little town situated in the valley of the
Yore, in the north-west corner of Yorkshire.  Musical taste seems
to have been hereditary in the family, for his father played the
fife in the band of the Masham Volunteers, and was a singer in the
parish choir.  His grandfather also was leading singer and ringer
at Masham Church; and one of the boy's earliest musical treats was
to be present at the bell pealing on Sunday mornings.  During the
service, his wonder was still more excited by the organist's
performance on the barrel-organ, the doors of which were thrown
open behind to let the sound fully into the church, by which the
stops, pipes, barrels, staples, keyboard, and jacks, were fully
exposed, to the wonderment of the little boys sitting in the
gallery behind, and to none more than our young musician.  At eight
years of age he began to play upon his father's old fife, which,
however, would not sound D; but his mother remedied the difficulty
by buying for him a one-keyed flute; and shortly after, a gentleman
of the neighbourhood presented him with a flute with four silver
keys.  As the boy made no progress with his "book learning," being
fonder of cricket, fives, and boxing, than of his school lessons--
the village schoolmaster giving him up as "a bad job"--his parents
sent him off to a school at Pateley Bridge.  While there he found
congenial society in a club of village choral singers at Brighouse
Gate, and with them he learnt the sol-fa-ing gamut on the old
English plan.  He was thus well drilled in the reading of music, in
which he soon became a proficient.  His progress astonished the
club, and he returned home full of musical ambition.  He now learnt
to play upon his father's old piano, but with little melodious
result; and he became eager to possess a finger-organ, but had no
means of procuring one.  About this time, a neighbouring parish
clerk had purchased, for an insignificant sum, a small disabled
barrel-organ, which had gone the circuit of the northern counties
with a show.  The clerk tried to revive the tones of the
instrument, but failed; at last he bethought him that he would try
the skill of young Jackson, who had succeeded in making some
alterations and improvements in the hand-organ of the parish
church.  He accordingly brought it to the lad's house in a donkey
cart, and in a short time the instrument was repaired, and played
over its old tunes again, greatly to the owner's satisfaction.

The thought now haunted the youth that he could make a barrel-
organ, and he determined to do so.  His father and he set to work,
and though without practice in carpentering, yet, by dint of hard
labour and after many failures, they at last succeeded; and an
organ was constructed which played ten tunes very decently, and the
instrument was generally regarded as a marvel in the neighbourhood.
Young Jackson was now frequently sent for to repair old church
organs, and to put new music upon the barrels which he added to
them.  All this he accomplished to the satisfaction of his
employers, after which he proceeded with the construction of a
four-stop finger-organ, adapting to it the keys of an old
harpsichord.  This he learnt to play upon,--studying 'Callcott's
Thorough Bass' in the evening, and working at his trade of a miller
during the day; occasionally also tramping about the country as a
"cadger," with an ass and a cart.  During summer he worked in the
fields, at turnip-time, hay-time, and harvest, but was never
without the solace of music in his leisure evening hours.  He next
tried his hand at musical composition, and twelve of his anthems
were shown to the late Mr. Camidge, of York, as "the production of
a miller's lad of fourteen."  Mr. Camidge was pleased with them,
marked the objectionable passages, and returned them with the
encouraging remark, that they did the youth great credit, and that
he must "go on writing."

A village band having been set on foot at Masham, young Jackson
joined it, and was ultimately appointed leader.  He played all the
instruments by turns, and thus acquired a considerable practical
knowledge of his art:  he also composed numerous tunes for the
band.  A new finger-organ having been presented to the parish
church, he was appointed the organist.  He now gave up his
employment as a journeyman miller, and commenced tallow-chandling,
still employing his spare hours in the study of music.  In 1839 he
published his first anthem--'For joy let fertile valleys sing;' and
in the following year he gained the first prize from the
Huddersfield Glee Club, for his 'Sisters of the Lea.'  His other
anthem 'God be merciful to us,' and the 103rd Psalm, written for a
double chorus and orchestra, are well known.  In the midst of these
minor works, Jackson proceeded with the composition of his
oratorio,--'The Deliverance of Israel from Babylon.'  His practice
was, to jot down a sketch of the ideas as they presented themselves
to his mind, and to write them out in score in the evenings, after
he had left his work in the candle-shop.  His oratorio was
published in parts, in the course of 1844-5, and he published the
last chorus on his twenty-ninth birthday.  The work was exceedingly
well received, and has been frequently performed with much success
in the northern towns.  Mr. Jackson eventually settled as a
professor of music at Bradford, where he contributed in no small
degree to the cultivation of the musical taste of that town and its
neighbourhood.  Some years since he had the honour of leading his
fine company of Bradford choral singers before Her Majesty at
Buckingham Palace; on which occasion, as well as at the Crystal
Palace, some choral pieces of his composition, were performed with
great effect. {22}

Such is a brief outline of the career of a self-taught musician,
whose life affords but another illustration of the power of self-
help, and the force of courage and industry in enabling a man to
surmount and overcome early difficulties and obstructions of no
ordinary kind.



CHAPTER VII--INDUSTRY AND THE PEERAGE



"He either fears his fate too much,
Or his deserts are small,
That dares not put it to the touch,
To gain or lose it all."--Marquis of Montrose.

"He hath put down the mighty from their seats; and exalted them of
low degree."--St. Luke.


We have already referred to some illustrious Commoners raised from
humble to elevated positions by the power of application and
industry; and we might point to even the Peerage itself as
affording equally instructive examples.  One reason why the Peerage
of England has succeeded so well in holding its own, arises from
the fact that, unlike the peerages of other countries, it has been
fed, from time to time, by the best industrial blood of the
country--the very "liver, heart, and brain of Britain."  Like the
fabled Antaeus, it has been invigorated and refreshed by touching
its mother earth, and mingling with that most ancient order of
nobility--the working order.

The blood of all men flows from equally remote sources; and though
some are unable to trace their line directly beyond their
grandfathers, all are nevertheless justified in placing at the head
of their pedigree the great progenitors of the race, as Lord
Chesterfield did when he wrote, "ADAM de Stanhope--EVE de
Stanhope."  No class is ever long stationary.  The mighty fall, and
the humble are exalted.  New families take the place of the old,
who disappear among the ranks of the common people.  Burke's
'Vicissitudes of Families' strikingly exhibit this rise and fall of
families, and show that the misfortunes which overtake the rich and
noble are greater in proportion than those which overwhelm the
poor.  This author points out that of the twenty-five barons
selected to enforce the observance of Magna Charta, there is not
now in the House of Peers a single male descendant.  Civil wars and
rebellions ruined many of the old nobility and dispersed their
families.  Yet their descendants in many cases survive, and are to
be found among the ranks of the people.  Fuller wrote in his
'Worthies,' that "some who justly hold the surnames of Bohuns,
Mortimers, and Plantagenets, are hid in the heap of common men."
Thus Burke shows that two of the lineal descendants of the Earl of
Kent, sixth son of Edward I., were discovered in a butcher and a
toll-gatherer; that the great grandson of Margaret Plantagenet,
daughter of the Duke of Clarance, sank to the condition of a
cobbler at Newport, in Shropshire; and that among the lineal
descendants of the Duke of Gloucester, son of Edward III., was the
late sexton of St George's, Hanover Square.  It is understood that
the lineal descendant of Simon de Montfort, England's premier
baron, is a saddler in Tooley Street.  One of the descendants of
the "Proud Percys," a claimant of the title of Duke of
Northumberland, was a Dublin trunk-maker; and not many years since
one of the claimants for the title of Earl of Perth presented
himself in the person of a labourer in a Northumberland coal-pit.
Hugh Miller, when working as a stone-mason near Edinburgh, was
served by a hodman, who was one of the numerous claimants for the
earldom of Crauford--all that was wanted to establish his claim
being a missing marriage certificate; and while the work was going
on, the cry resounded from the walls many times in the day, of--
"John, Yearl Crauford, bring us anither hod o'lime."  One of Oliver
Cromwell's great grandsons was a grocer on Snow Hill, and others of
his descendants died in great poverty.  Many barons of proud names
and titles have perished, like the sloth, upon their family tree,
after eating up all the leaves; while others have been overtaken by
adversities which they have been unable to retrieve, and sunk at
last into poverty and obscurity.  Such are the mutabilities of rank
and fortune.

The great bulk of our peerage is comparatively modern, so far as
the titles go; but it is not the less noble that it has been
recruited to so large an extent from the ranks of honourable
industry.  In olden times, the wealth and commerce of London,
conducted as it was by energetic and enterprising men, was a
prolific source of peerages.  Thus, the earldom of Cornwallis was
founded by Thomas Cornwallis, the Cheapside merchant; that of Essex
by William Capel, the draper; and that of Craven by William Craven,
the merchant tailor.  The modern Earl of Warwick is not descended
from the "King-maker," but from William Greville, the woolstapler;
whilst the modern dukes of Northumberland find their head, not in
the Percies, but in Hugh Smithson, a respectable London apothecary.
The founders of the families of Dartmouth, Radnor, Ducie, and
Pomfret, were respectively a skinner, a silk manufacturer, a
merchant tailor, and a Calais merchant; whilst the founders of the
peerages of Tankerville, Dormer, and Coventry, were mercers.  The
ancestors of Earl Romney, and Lord Dudley and Ward, were goldsmiths
and jewellers; and Lord Dacres was a banker in the reign of Charles
I., as Lord Overstone is in that of Queen Victoria.  Edward
Osborne, the founder of the Dukedom of Leeds, was apprentice to
William Hewet, a rich clothworker on London Bridge, whose only
daughter he courageously rescued from drowning, by leaping into the
Thames after her, and eventually married.  Among other peerages
founded by trade are those of Fitzwilliam, Leigh, Petre, Cowper,
Darnley, Hill, and Carrington.  The founders of the houses of Foley
and Normanby were remarkable men in many respects, and, as
furnishing striking examples of energy of character, the story of
their lives is worthy of preservation.

The father of Richard Foley, the founder of the family, was a small
yeoman living in the neighbourhood of Stourbridge in the time of
Charles I.  That place was then the centre of the iron manufacture
of the midland districts, and Richard was brought up to work at one
of the branches of the trade--that of nail-making.  He was thus a
daily observer of the great labour and loss of time caused by the
clumsy process then adopted for dividing the rods of iron in the
manufacture of nails.  It appeared that the Stourbridge nailers
were gradually losing their trade in consequence of the importation
of nails from Sweden, by which they were undersold in the market.
It became known that the Swedes were enabled to make their nails so
much cheaper, by the use of splitting mills and machinery, which
had completely superseded the laborious process of preparing the
rods for nail-making then practised in England.

Richard Foley, having ascertained this much, determined to make
himself master of the new process.  He suddenly disappeared from
the neighbourhood of Stourbridge, and was not heard of for several
years.  No one knew whither he had gone, not even his own family;
for he had not informed them of his intention, lest he should fail.
He had little or no money in his pocket, but contrived to get to
Hull, where he engaged himself on board a ship bound for a Swedish
port, and worked his passage there.  The only article of property
which he possessed was his fiddle, and on landing in Sweden he
begged and fiddled his way to the Dannemora mines, near Upsala.  He
was a capital musician, as well as a pleasant fellow, and soon
ingratiated himself with the iron-workers.  He was received into
the works, to every part of which he had access; and he seized the
opportunity thus afforded him of storing his mind with
observations, and mastering, as he thought, the mechanism of iron
splitting.  After a continued stay for this purpose, he suddenly
disappeared from amongst his kind friends the miners--no one knew
whither.

Returned to England, he communicated the results of his voyage to
Mr. Knight and another person at Stourbridge, who had sufficient
confidence in him to advance the requisite funds for the purpose of
erecting buildings and machinery for splitting iron by the new
process.  But when set to work, to the great vexation and
disappointment of all, and especially of Richard Foley, it was
found that the machinery would not act--at all events it would not
split the bars of iron.  Again Foley disappeared.  It was thought
that shame and mortification at his failure had driven him away for
ever.  Not so!  Foley had determined to master this secret of iron-
splitting, and he would yet do it.  He had again set out for
Sweden, accompanied by his fiddle as before, and found his way to
the iron works, where he was joyfully welcomed by the miners; and,
to make sure of their fiddler, they this time lodged him in the
very splitting-mill itself.  There was such an apparent absence of
intelligence about the man, except in fiddle-playing, that the
miners entertained no suspicions as to the object of their
minstrel, whom they thus enabled to attain the very end and aim of
his life.  He now carefully examined the works, and soon discovered
the cause of his failure.  He made drawings or tracings of the
machinery as well as he could, though this was a branch of art
quite new to him; and after remaining at the place long enough to
enable him to verify his observations, and to impress the
mechanical arrangements clearly and vividly on his mind, he again
left the miners, reached a Swedish port, and took ship for England.
A man of such purpose could not but succeed.  Arrived amongst his
surprised friends, he now completed his arrangements, and the
results were entirely successful.  By his skill and his industry he
soon laid the foundations of a large fortune, at the same time that
he restored the business of an extensive district.  He himself
continued, during his life, to carry on his trade, aiding and
encouraging all works of benevolence in his neighbourhood.  He
founded and endowed a school at Stourbridge; and his son Thomas (a
great benefactor of Kidderminster), who was High Sheriff of
Worcestershire in the time of "The Rump," founded and endowed an
hospital, still in existence, for the free education of children at
Old Swinford.  All the early Foleys were Puritans.  Richard Baxter
seems to have been on familiar and intimate terms with various
members of the family, and makes frequent mention of them in his
'Life and Times.'  Thomas Foley, when appointed high sheriff of the
county, requested Baxter to preach the customary sermon before him;
and Baxter in his 'Life' speaks of him as "of so just and blameless
dealing, that all men he ever had to do with magnified his great
integrity and honesty, which were questioned by none."  The family
was ennobled in the reign of Charles the Second.

William Phipps, the founder of the Mulgrave or Normanby family, was
a man quite as remarkable in his way as Richard Foley.  His father
was a gunsmith--a robust Englishman settled at Woolwich, in Maine,
then forming part of our English colonies in America.  He was born
in 1651, one of a family of not fewer than twenty-six children (of
whom twenty-one were sons), whose only fortune lay in their stout
hearts and strong arms.  William seems to have had a dash of the
Danish-sea blood in his veins, and did not take kindly to the quiet
life of a shepherd in which he spent his early years.  By nature
bold and adventurous, he longed to become a sailor and roam through
the world.  He sought to join some ship; but not being able to find
one, he apprenticed himself to a shipbuilder, with whom he
thoroughly learnt his trade, acquiring the arts of reading and
writing during his leisure hours.  Having completed his
apprenticeship and removed to Boston, he wooed and married a widow
of some means, after which he set up a little shipbuilding yard of
his own, built a ship, and, putting to sea in her, he engaged in
the lumber trade, which he carried on in a plodding and laborious
way for the space of about ten years.

It happened that one day, whilst passing through the crooked
streets of old Boston, he overheard some sailors talking to each
other of a wreck which had just taken place off the Bahamas; that
of a Spanish ship, supposed to have much money on board.  His
adventurous spirit was at once kindled, and getting together a
likely crew without loss of time, he set sail for the Bahamas.  The
wreck being well in-shore, he easily found it, and succeeded in
recovering a great deal of its cargo, but very little money; and
the result was, that he barely defrayed his expenses.  His success
had been such, however, as to stimulate his enterprising spirit;
and when he was told of another and far more richly laden vessel
which had been wrecked near Port de la Plata more than half a
century before, he forthwith formed the resolution of raising the
wreck, or at all events of fishing up the treasure.

Being too poor, however, to undertake such an enterprise without
powerful help, he set sail for England in the hope that he might
there obtain it.  The fame of his success in raising the wreck off
the Bahamas had already preceded him.  He applied direct to the
Government.  By his urgent enthusiasm, he succeeded in overcoming
the usual inertia of official minds; and Charles II. eventually
placed at his disposal the "Rose Algier," a ship of eighteen guns
and ninety-five men, appointing him to the chief command.

Phipps then set sail to find the Spanish ship and fish up the
treasure.  He reached the coast of Hispaniola in safety; but how to
find the sunken ship was the great difficulty.  The fact of the
wreck was more than fifty years old; and Phipps had only the
traditionary rumours of the event to work upon.  There was a wide
coast to explore, and an outspread ocean without any trace whatever
of the argosy which lay somewhere at its bottom.  But the man was
stout in heart and full of hope.  He set his seamen to work to drag
along the coast, and for weeks they went on fishing up sea-weed,
shingle, and bits of rock.  No occupation could be more trying to
seamen, and they began to grumble one to another, and to whisper
that the man in command had brought them on a fool's errand.

At length the murmurers gained head, and the men broke into open
mutiny.  A body of them rushed one day on to the quarter-deck, and
demanded that the voyage should be relinquished.  Phipps, however,
was not a man to be intimidated; he seized the ringleaders, and
sent the others back to their duty.  It became necessary to bring
the ship to anchor close to a small island for the purpose of
repairs; and, to lighten her, the chief part of the stores was
landed.  Discontent still increasing amongst the crew, a new plot
was laid amongst the men on shore to seize the ship, throw Phipps
overboard, and start on a piratical cruize against the Spaniards in
the South Seas.  But it was necessary to secure the services of the
chief ship carpenter, who was consequently made privy to the pilot.
This man proved faithful, and at once told the captain of his
danger.  Summoning about him those whom he knew to be loyal, Phipps
had the ship's guns loaded which commanded the shore, and ordered
the bridge communicating with the vessel to be drawn up.  When the
mutineers made their appearance, the captain hailed them, and told
the men he would fire upon them if they approached the stores
(still on land),--when they drew back; on which Phipps had the
stores reshipped under cover of his guns.  The mutineers, fearful
of being left upon the barren island, threw down their arms and
implored to be permitted to return to their duty.  The request was
granted, and suitable precautions were taken against future
mischief.  Phipps, however, took the first opportunity of landing
the mutinous part of the crew, and engaging other men in their
places; but, by the time that he could again proceed actively with
his explorations, he found it absolutely necessary to proceed to
England for the purpose of repairing the ship.  He had now,
however, gained more precise information as to the spot where the
Spanish treasure ship had sunk; and, though as yet baffled, he was
more confident than ever of the eventual success of his enterprise.

Returned to London, Phipps reported the result of his voyage to the
Admiralty, who professed to be pleased with his exertions; but he
had been unsuccessful, and they would not entrust him with another
king's ship.  James II. was now on the throne, and the Government
was in trouble; so Phipps and his golden project appealed to them
in vain.  He next tried to raise the requisite means by a public
subscription.  At first he was laughed at; but his ceaseless
importunity at length prevailed, and after four years' dinning of
his project into the ears of the great and influential--during
which time he lived in poverty--he at length succeeded.  A company
was formed in twenty shares, the Duke of Albermarle, son of General
Monk, taking the chief interest in it, and subscribing the
principal part of the necessary fund for the prosecution of the
enterprise.

Like Foley, Phipps proved more fortunate in his second voyage than
in his first.  The ship arrived without accident at Port de la
Plata, in the neighbourhood of the reef of rocks supposed to have
been the scene of the wreck.  His first object was to build a stout
boat capable of carrying eight or ten oars, in constructing which
Phipps used the adze himself.  It is also said that he constructed
a machine for the purpose of exploring the bottom of the sea
similar to what is now known as the Diving Bell.  Such a machine
was found referred to in books, but Phipps knew little of books,
and may be said to have re-invented the apparatus for his own use.
He also engaged Indian divers, whose feats of diving for pearls,
and in submarine operations, were very remarkable.  The tender and
boat having been taken to the reef, the men were set to work, the
diving bell was sunk, and the various modes of dragging the bottom
of the sea were employed continuously for many weeks, but without
any prospect of success.  Phipps, however, held on valiantly,
hoping almost against hope.  At length, one day, a sailor, looking
over the boat's side down into the clear water, observed a curious
sea-plant growing in what appeared to be a crevice of the rock; and
he called upon an Indian diver to go down and fetch it for him.  On
the red man coming up with the weed, he reported that a number of
ships guns were lying in the same place.  The intelligence was at
first received with incredulity, but on further investigation it
proved to be correct.  Search was made, and presently a diver came
up with a solid bar of silver in his arms.  When Phipps was shown
it, he exclaimed, "Thanks be to God! we are all made men."  Diving
bell and divers now went to work with a will, and in a few days,
treasure was brought up to the value of about 300,000 pounds, with
which Phipps set sail for England.  On his arrival, it was urged
upon the king that he should seize the ship and its cargo, under
the pretence that Phipps, when soliciting his Majesty's permission,
had not given accurate information respecting the business.  But
the king replied, that he knew Phipps to be an honest man, and that
he and his friends should divide the whole treasure amongst them,
even though he had returned with double the value.  Phipps's share
was about 20,000 pounds, and the king, to show his approval of his
energy and honesty in conducting the enterprise, conferred upon him
the honour of knighthood.  He was also made High Sheriff of New
England; and during the time he held the office, he did valiant
service for the mother country and the colonists against the
French, by expeditions against Port Royal and Quebec.  He also held
the post of Governor of Massachusetts, from which he returned to
England, and died in London in 1695.