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labour in the turnip field, from his watching Mrs. brian colliery, who rejoiced when twelve shillings Ainslie's cows onwards through the gradations of were first paid to him for the labour of a week. engine stoking, upwards to the position of engineer, George Stephenson cannot be named in his to his responsibility as enginc-wright, through all. public capacity as a representative man, for that his struggling with costly patents to mature his he was not. He stands out alone in our me. grand plans, to his achievements with the Blucher chanical history, or nearly alone, because he was engine at Killing worth, his success on the Stockton gifted with a mind peculiarly qualified for the and Darlington line, his triumphant opening of the work written to be done in his destiny. In his Liverpool and Manchester line, his great victory private capacity he was a representative man. In over engineers, lawyers, and statesmen, on the his youth he represented that numerous and strong speed of his engines -and the pressure of business class of men in this country, who discharge all produced by this Liverpool and Manchester suc- their domestic duties in an unexceptionable mancess—he was never charged with doing a mean ner, and among whom more acts of self-denial or shabby action; there was no speck on his cha- occur ; and of liberality the most substantial, racter, and no spot on his memory.
because it involves these acts of self-denial ; than A kind and sympathising heart tinged all his many persons in other classes believe, or have any domestic and neighbourly intercourse with an air means to know. of gentleness, not then always or often observed In after years he continued to be a representive in the mining districts; and yet he was a man of man, of a less numerous class, who have cut their great activity and personal strength-fond of way honestly and uprightly from the ranks of athletic games, and skilful in that class of exer. labour to those of consideration and wealth, but cises. His first savings were expended after his who never forget the way in which they walked, and wife's death in supporting his parents. All his those who walked with them in youth. He was a relatives were indebted to him for willing help over thorough gentleman when luis young wife lived and rough places in life. His anxiety for the advance- died in their cottage at Killingworth, and he was ment and the education of his son, Robert, was a not less nor more so when Mrs. Ainslie's herd pleasant feature in his character. His open than the engine stoker, and next the enginemindedness to his old neighbours and fellow-work.wright, became the companion of statesmen and men, was not more remarkable than the amenity the guest of kings. with which he passed, in his latter years, to the In all circumstances and places he was sustained cottage from the palace--at home in both. Rich by the noble stay-the conviction that he was as he was, in comparison with the miners of doing right. That was his great support, when Killingworth, yet it was not what he could do all seemed dark and doubtful. It upheld him for them, so much as the manner of doing it, that when lawyers, who lived to hurry down upon his won their esteem.
rails to assizes, at forty miles an hour of speed, His interest in the education of the working sneered at his ignorance because he talked of ten classes arose in part from his own struggles in miles an hour. It failed him not when the Liveryouth. They induced him to clear away the debt pool and Manchester line was nearly murdered by of the Newcastle Institution. They led to his twenty-one fixed engines. It carried him through active and personal exertions for the success of all difficulties, as it will carry others, better than a mechanics' institutions, and the urbanity wherewith bridge of gold. his aid was given to others, in the circumstances The nature of the man qualified him to meet that he once occupied, was probably the best way all classes of of society. He felt that he deserved of showing gratitude for the issue of his own well of the country; because he was an intelligent struggles in life.
man, and saw clearer than others what he had been He gathered up the fragments of time so that doing, through his life. He came through the nothing might be lost. While discharging, in a trial of the railway mania with clean hands. He most exemplary manner, all the duties of life, he had deceived no party. He had earned no wealth found leisure, after working hours, to do many in exchange for nothing. He had misled no sharethings which other workmen imagine that they holders. Therefore, when high names fell into have never leisure to perform. A robust consti- disrepnte among railway circles, he stood before tution may have helped him in these achieve the world an honest man, who had not allowed a ments; but it only backed the earnest mind. He shadow to compromise his character, or pass over lived with an object. He was a man with a pur. his fair fame. He resisted the tempations of his pose. He had promised to himself, at least, that situation, and he came out of the trial stainless. over all the world, in time, and in bis own country Few biographies are more pleasant than soon, it should be cheaper for working men to ride Mr. Smiles's work; and we trust that it may than to walk. The promise was kept, and all the become a standard book among the libraries open healthful tendencies of its fulllment are owing to to mechanics, as it certainly will become in the the resolution of an engineer at a small Northum- private libraries of this and other lands.
Broken memories of many a heart
lasts constitutes the sum of the duty of man. As
the only son of one of England's merchant-princes, A LOVE AND A LIFE: THE HISTORY OF A CASTAWAY.
he had every reason to look forward to a cloudless
"good as gold,” and no one in those days could And never, since his life began,
imagine that a time would come when the names Had bowed him to control; Perchance his temper was too rude ;
of Trevor and Co. on a bill would not be worth Perchance his pride too great ;
the paper whereon they were written. That time, Perchance it was his phantasy ; Perchance it was his fate.-Bothwell.
however, did come. Mr. Trevor's house disgraceI once in these sketches mentioned a friend long fully failed, and with a wreck of his once fine forago lost to me—a man who sought to live by his village in North Wales, where he shortly after died
tune the ruined merchant retired to a sequestered inkstand, and died in early youth, young in years, of a broken heart. Young Trevor, who, at the time old in sorrow, in the heart of this great town. I of his father's failure, was at Harrow, was removed reed hardly say I recur to poor Walter Cheyne: immediately after that catastrophe, and at the time Ere he died he requested my acceptance, in default of his father's death had become resigned to the of something better, of sundry MSS. as a parting loss of early home, town and country house, sergift. “Possibly," said he, "You may be able to turn the events therein shadowed forth to better vants, carriages, horses, and all the other " pomps account than I have done, and, what is better still, and vanities of this wicked world,” as we learn to this will give you a truer insight into my life history doubtful if that same confession materially affects
nickname them in our catechism—though it is for the last two years than any words of mine now
our appreciation of them in after life. And in could do."
North Wales, on a small settlement of his mother's This conversation occurred but a very few hours
- for his father had married when he could ill before his death. The box containing the MSS. afford to settle anything considerable on his wife lies open on my table now. Of these same old
- Richard Trevor and that lady lived as they best papers, those that relate to Walter only are now sacred to friendship, and for friendship's eye alone. might. She could not part from Richard'; he It would be a kind of profanation to send them, tutor, finish his education at home ; and so he
the of Mwith all their imperfections, through the press spent a few hours every morning over his Greek almost sacrilege to show, perhaps to careless eyes, and Latin in their little back-room, and the afterall the passionate heart-throbs of a friend who is now
noon in wandering by brook-sides with a fly-rod in at rest under the cool, green sward. But there
his hand and a pipe in his mouth, till, from force are other MSS. of his, containing other hearthistories than his own. There lies one. Perhaps he became a dreamer. And the widow, in ber
of circumstances, being a youth of reflective turn, it is a mere fiction ; perhaps it is a blended memory one-sided love of her wild boy, was well content of the events of his own and another's life; or
that he should so waste his time and talents in an perhaps—as I am inclined to believe—it is a true out-of-the-way village, if by that means she could sonal knowledge of facts which have occurred before only keep bim at her apron-strings. Not so his sonal knowledge of facts which have occurred before tutor, who, seeing his young pupil possessed a mind to-day, and will again, till the end of time.
of powerful calibre, if well directed, was never As in Walter Cheyne's MS. this life-history is composed rather of unconnected fragments and of the sin of which she was guilty, in allowing so
weary of impressing upon the widow the gravity loose speculations than of any consecutive narrative, much talent to run to waste at home. But what. I will try my hand at adorning a tale, even though I fail in trying “ to point a moral”—and there is, certain it is that, just then, he loved his poor,
ever ambition Trevor may have then entertained, or should be, one in this forthcoming history--for pale, widowed mother far too well to wish to leave its hero was a man meant for better things, though her. It was, however, directed otherwise. he "passed away and made no sign."
Even in those days of coaches, North Wales was,
in vacation time, a kind of Tempe to University Richard Trevor was the only son of a Brazilian men on reading tours; and with one of these, a merchant, and from his childhood, thanks to the Fellow of College, Oxford, young Trevor weak indulgence of his parents, was brought up to formed a six weeks' acquaintance, which was probelieve that the world was nothing else than a ductive of more things than long walks and fly. place wherein how to enjoy oneself as long as life fishing. George Manley, the erudite Oxford man,
and Richard Trevor, the shy, dreamy youth, had sure sign-post to a workhouse), and became a many tastes in common, and each was soon satisfied literary man from that day forth. It was a great on one point, namely, that his friend was a man disappointment to his mother when the self-willed worth knowing ; and, more particularly, that Trevor young man wrote down to her that he intended to was foolish indeed if he were contented to idle give up all ideas of going to the bar, as he had a away his life in Wales, when the world was all soul far above legal chicanery, &c., &c., and was before him. “A sentence has formed a character,” sure that his dear mother would never wish to says that sage enunciator of trite platitudes, Mr. thwart his laudable aspirations. And the little Martin Tupper; a few sentences of Manley's in widow, who had sorely pinched herself to pay the some degree determined Trevor's path in life. To pleader's premium, wiped her eyes, and wrote back London he must go-some profession he must a loving reply, that she hoped he would succeed choose. Manley spoke of the bar—Mrs. Trevor in his new calling, and was delighted to find that suggested the church; but the curate, who knew she had so clever a son. Amiable enthusiast! his pupil's disposition only a little better than his gentle, loving mother!-alas! that all these aspimother, gave a casting vote in favour of Manley's rations should tend only to misery and a broken recommendation-and accordingly, in a few months' heart ! time, after many tears, Mrs. Trevor consented to If Richard Trevor's vanity had ever allowed him part with her dear boy, and Richard Trevor went to think dispassionately on any one subject conto London, to be pupil to a special pleader, and to nected with self-interest, he would have acknorexchange the comforts of a quiet village home for ledged to his own heart that there are certain lodgings in a “three-pair back” in London, with qualities necessary to success in literature, without such an allowance as the widow could scrape to which no amount of mere irregular talent can be gether for him out of her lean annuity.
of any avail— and these he lacked. For to succeed A sad evening for poor Mrs. Trevor was that in the republic of letters, where every author is an which followed the winter's morning when she saw Ishmaelite, “his hand against every man, and Richard wave his last adieu from the box-seat of every man's hand against him," something more is the London coach, as it wound along the hill, ere requisite than the “fatal facility" of expressionit was lost to the sight of the sorrowful mother, something more than a capability for producing who felt that her life was now a blank for some airy magazine articles. · And this is one of the time to come.
Nevertheless, in a short time her reasons why authorship has been so grievously maternal anxiety was greatly relieved by the re- belied by its disappointed votaries, who, beginning ceipt of sundry letters, crossed and re-crossed, from life with erroneous ideas as to its duties and reher son, saying that he was comfortably settled in quirements, find too late that talent, unaided by respectable lodgings—was reading hard at night, aught nobler, can never produce for its possessor and working all day in the pleader's office, and had anything but self-contempt and bitterness. So no doubt he would, in a few years, be in a position they fail miserably, while men more earnest, if less to raise their fallen fortunes. Now Richard Trevor, talented, pass them by; and then, because they like most very young men of talent and little hace so failed, too vain to acknowledge that the knowledge of the world, was about as great an fault lies at their own door, they inveigh against egotist as ever succeeded in self-deception. For earth’s noblest calling, of which they have been a while he worked steadily enough ; but law was such craven-hearted followers! Had Trevor been too hard and exact a study for oue who had a poet a wiser man, he would have seen that, although heart. I think that, wherever cacoëthes scribendi a gifted dreamer may conceive, he must be a worker exists, however undeveloped it may be from adverse indeed who would execute. And a dreamer was accidents, it is sure, sooner or later, to swallow up he in the fullest acceptation of that comprehensive everything else, after the manner of Aaron's rod. term.“ Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel,” So he became, step by step, day by day, a scribbler said the patriarch Jacob to Reuben ; and of a truth -wrote morbid verses (which seem now like the there be many Reubens yet upon the earth, if few echoes of a wail long hushed in death), sent them Jacobs. Flattered on all sides by men inferior to to magazines, received them back in some cases him in intellect, spoiled by with that hateful “ declined with thanks" endorsed thereon, and occasionally had the satisfaction of
The worthlessness of common praise –
That dry.rot of the mind, appearing in print, to make blue-stockings wonder who “R. T.,” who wrote such strange, sad strains, what wonder if he became an idle egotist, who could be. In this one respect only did he evince was always going to do everything, and always any steadfastness of purpose, and in a short time occupied in thinking of something, and doing he was rewarded for his pains by the insertion of nothing ? one of his most dreary articles in a first-class peri- But, with all his faults, he was a clever man, odical—a piece of good luck which was followed and soon perceived that he was wasting his talents. up by an engagement as paid contributor thereto. He went to work once more-wrote a few stray So Richard Trevor made up his mind that he was stanzas in different periodicals, which gained for destined to write something the world would not him an ephemeral reputation, such as is gained by willingly let die" (a delusion which is too often a l the thousand and one writers whose names are on
men's lips for a week, and forgotten in a fort- | to them at supper tables-for sentiment must eat, night. At this time he became acquainted with we know-are they whose knowledge is limited to several clever men of mark, whose society soon the superficial agrèmens of society-who can talk convinced him that he was not quite such a genius with equal assurance on every object, from the as he had imagined—men who, while they acknow- last new novel to the last new bishop-from the ledged his abilities, deplored his perversity and last concert in the Hanover Square Rooms, to the egotism, and gave little quarter to either. And last meeting of the Society for the Propagation of thus at last, after a long struggle with his boyish the Gospel in Exeter Hall; whisperers of polite vanity, he resolved to amend his ways, and, once insipidities-white kid Adonises, whose exquisite more casting aside his early folly, worked steadily waltzing, costume, and inexhaustible flow of small and gained such success as his immature efforts talk atone, in the eyes of the many, for the manideserved. So much for his start as a literary fold defects of heart and head they may exhibit to man.
the few. After an absence of some three years, which But what has all this to do with Richard seemed a whole lifetime to his mother, he went Trevor ? Everything; for, whenever he went into down to M- to spend a month with her, ladies' society, he was forced to apply these obtaking down with him more magazines, containing servations to his own experience ; and the consecompositions of his own, of course, than I should quence was that, as he became more aware of his like to have read in double that time. Very de- defects, he became also more awkward and less lightful evenings, whatever third parties may have inclined to make himself agreeable—which, upon said, were they on which the widow and her boy occasion, and when he thought it worth his while, sat téte-à-tête in the little cottage, when tea was he could do well enough, though in a fashion brought in and the curtains drawn, and Mr. peculiar to himself. Nevertheless, this Orson of Richard Trevor condescended to listen to her our nineteenth century, who flattered himself that kindly criticisms and maternal laudations of his no woman could ever disturb his peace, was poetry and prose. Then a few neighbours would destined to be tamed, and by a very quiet little drop in to see the literary lion of M—; good, conqueror too. And this wonderful event fell out honest souls, whose reading was confined to a few on this wise : among Trevor's London acquaint
old newspapers, and the “Life of Lord Nelson," ance was numbered a Mrs. Tytherleigh, an old with other irreproachable John Bullish works of school friend of his mother's, and, like her, a like tendency, and who, understanding but half of widow; this lady had one daughter, a pretty what the young man said, applauded all his absurd little girl of nineteen, and with her Trevor soon crotchets to the echo, till even he, when they struck up what mamma called a flirtation, and were gone, would sneer at them and their fulsome what be calleda Platonic attachment : fatteries.
Oh Plato! Plato! you have paved the way The month expired, and he returned to London,
With your confounded phantasies to more and once more taking up his pen, seemed likely to distinguish himself. But no-be must do every nonsense, or what you please-I forget the pasthing. Political tracts, dreary reveries, crude sage—or, if I don't, you see my memory is essays, biting satires, strange wild strains of sad treacherous, I omit the rest, because, after all
, it poetry, all flowed from his pen in quick succession will hardly apply here. And so our hero at last —and if ever a man illustrated to a nicety the fell in love with little Jane Tytherleigh, like any hacknied axiom, aliquis in omnibus, nullus in sin- other mortal who never wrote a line of poetry, gulis, Richard Trevor was that most luckless and was not fool enough to think himself a biped.
genius. But all this savours too much of a back-parlour And what thought she of her admirer ? Now in Paternoster-row to please my readers, who care Richard Trevor neither danced, sang, pleaded for other vanities far more than for all the “ psycho- guilty to a love of small talk, nor was in any way logical inquiries," as Coleridge would have phrased an Adonis--tout au contraire, fair reader mine, it, that a reverist could string together in a twelve- and Jane thought him as queer a specimen of month. Trevor was externally about the last nature's handiwork as Gulliver must have thought person one could imagine likely to love or be the Yahoo on first acquaiutance. Possibly, first loved; so, at least, said the few young ladies of impressions are oftentimes wrong; possibly Jane his acquaintance; for this man was to the day of and Gulliver were both mistaken. Now, here I death a victim to one long misunderstanding on beg that, because my hero had a boorish contempt the part of the fair sex—and I see nothing at all for people who could dance, etc., etc., you will not remarkable in this ; for, to speak in the first person take it into your heads that I myself am assuredly singular, ex cathedrá, I have generally found, a Goth, who share his opinions, or rather cloak during my own brief experience of life, that the my own behind him. I cry you mercy, ladies, one men whose names are whispered lovingly by young and all ; do not wrong me by such a supposition. ladies in confidential dialogues—the men whom I am as ready to admit, as any of you can be to mammas like to see hanging about their drawing demand such admission, that a disinclination to rooms and daughters at the piano, or sitting next make oneself agreeable, in the drawing-room
sense, is by no means an indication of genius, but I those two people, if found, could not present a on the contrary, too often of mere bad taste, or greater contrast than did Richard Trevor and Jane an ill-concealed sense of awkwardness. I know Tytherleigh to a third party; she quict, gentle, well that there is such a thing as "the pride that yet with that strength in weakness which oftea apes humility,” in other places beside Coleridge's distinguishes such natures-looking at things as “ Devil's Walk.” Still, on the other hand, I do they are-never for a moment blinking a truth, say that it is cruelly unjust to suppose, as I dare though it cost her dear-superficially cold and say many of you do—and will—though I wrote careless, with a warm woman's heart, nevertheless, my pen down to the stump to convince you underlying the almost repulsive manner—and he of your mistake because Trevor could not, like an (at least, when he was in society where he felt at every-day fop, dance the polka gracefully, simper home, for when this was not the case he was sweet nothings, for the sake of showing the white. taciturn and almost sullen), talkative, argumenta. ness of his teeth, or lead a young lady to a settee, tive, frank on some points to the verge of indeliwithout getting up an impromptu flirtation, on cacy—in others reserved almost to closenessthe strength of a ten minutes' acquaintance, that externally a man whom nothing could long trouble he was a Yahoo, or a gloomy " kill-joy, to whom or impress, bul, in reality one whose feelings, so pink-edged billets should never be sent, on any often masked under a cold, contemptuous levity, pretence whatsoever. Yet, so society, that great would on rare occasions force a way to the surface, humbug, decrees in the plenitude of its wisdom, and and prove that there was an angel-side, even to utter dearth of charity.
that odd unpromising character, with all its pride and bitterness. Such were Jane and Trevor in
those days. I almost wish I had never begun Richard Trevor loved Jane Tytherleigh ; but I this story, for sorrow must soon be closing have forgotten to say how great a change for the darkly over all. better that love produced in him. Without ever having been a thoroughly vicious man, he had still in a measure been mixed up with vice by associa- Did she love him? My answer will be, just as tion-and, like all who have passed through the much as any of you, my fair readers, love the young fiery ordeal of a London life, had not, like Shadrach gentleman who has been sitting on the sula beside from his « fiery furnace,” come out thence un. you, carrying on a desperate flirtation for the last scathed.
half hour-and no more! Not that for one mo. There is, I think, in the heart of every true man ment I mean to convey that Trevor was that most in his youth a yearning for sympathy—a wish to contemptible of mortals, a male flirt; for with love and be loved in turn, if only for the sake of his failings, he was far too good for that sort of escapivg from one's coarser nature, by transferring legal misdemeanour, the obtaining of hearts under one's thoughts—too apt at all times, from concen- false pretences. It was not her nature, if it was tration, to grow selfish-to another and she, his, to fall in love too soon. Nevertheless, she had some fair, gentle girl, such an one as has inspired already made up her mind that Trevor, though half that is good, truthful, and pure, in the strains decidedly an original, cast in a very rough mould, of every poet, from Chaucer down to Byron. was something better than he seemed, and might, While a man has reason to love purely and truly, under skilful treatment improve wonderfully. And he can never become utterly bad in any other seeing that he truly loved her—remember that I respect; " Blessed," said Balwer, " is the woman am drawing a woman, and not an angel, or any who exalts." How
many of us can thankfully re- other abstraction of fancy-she, with a woman's echo that sentiment to-night!
love of conquest, determined to try her band on I believe the first cause of Trevor's love for the most uninviting sample of male humanity she Jane, however conceited he might be, was that, had ever encountered in her mother's drawing. while Mrs. Tytherleigh and her guests were never room. And he saw through this amiable intention, sick of flattering him, her daughter showed more and, with that perversity, which was at once his knowledge of character and better taste by confining characteristic and his bane, resolved to make him. her conversation to general topics, and proving to sell out to be far worse than he really was, in Trevor thereby that she thought him too true a order that he might cventually see whether Miss man to be flattered by any outrageous appeal to Tytherleigh thought him better ; which plan, hovbis vanity. And yet she saw he was proud, even ever ingenious, I would not recommend any other wbile he affected humility-proud of something young gentleman, similarly circumstanced, to try, she knew not what; certainly not good looks, if he values his peace of mind; for young ladies for he was a very plain man; still, without know- are at all times prone to jump at conclusions, and ing of what he was proud, she benevolently re possibly the conclusion arrived at may be unfavour. solved to pique his vanity, if possible; and she able to the luckless adrenturer. succeeded, and repented of the success when such Now, quiet, little, keen-witted Miss Ty* herleigla repentance was of no avail.
instantly saw through poor Trevor's elaborate If any person were to search both hemispheres device, and she determined to mortify his vanity for two people dissimilar in almost everything, I by acting as though she took hiin at his Ford