Self Help by Samuel Smiles (best romantic novels in english TXT) 📕
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the same with every workman who would excel. Ferguson made
marvellous things—such as his wooden clock, that accurately
measured the hours—by means of a common penknife, a tool in
everybody’s hand; but then everybody is not a Ferguson. A pan of
water and two thermometers were the tools by which Dr. Black
discovered latent heat; and a prism, a lens, and a sheet of
pasteboard enabled Newton to unfold the composition of light and
the origin of colours. An eminent foreign savant once called upon
Dr. Wollaston, and requested to be shown over his laboratories in
which science had been enriched by so many important discoveries,
when the doctor took him into a little study, and, pointing to an
old tea-tray on the table, containing a few watch-glasses, test
papers, a small balance, and a blowpipe, said, “There is all the
laboratory that I have!”
Stothard learnt the art of combining colours by closely studying
butterflies’ wings: he would often say that no one knew what he
owed to these tiny insects. A burnt stick and a barn door served
Wilkie in lieu of pencil and canvas. Bewick first practised
drawing on the cottage walls of his native village, which he
covered with his sketches in chalk; and Benjamin West made his
first brushes out of the cat’s tail. Ferguson laid himself down in
the fields at night in a blanket, and made a map of the heavenly
bodies by means of a thread with small beads on it stretched
between his eye and the stars. Franklin first robbed the
thundercloud of its lightning by means of a kite made with two
cross sticks and a silk handkerchief. Watt made his first model of
the condensing steam-engine out of an old anatomist’s syringe, used
to inject the arteries previous to dissection. Gifford worked his
first problems in mathematics, when a cobbler’s apprentice, upon
small scraps of leather, which he beat smooth for the purpose;
whilst Rittenhouse, the astronomer, first calculated eclipses on
his plough handle.
The most ordinary occasions will furnish a man with opportunities
or suggestions for improvement, if he be but prompt to take
advantage of them. Professor Lee was attracted to the study of
Hebrew by finding a Bible in that tongue in a synagogue, while
working as a common carpenter at the repairs of the benches. He
became possessed with a desire to read the book in the original,
and, buying a cheap second-hand copy of a Hebrew grammar, he set to
work and learnt the language for himself. As Edmund Stone said to
the Duke of Argyle, in answer to his grace’s inquiry how he, a poor
gardener’s boy, had contrived to be able to read Newton’s Principia
in Latin, “One needs only to know the twenty-four letters of the
alphabet in order to learn everything else that one wishes.”
Application and perseverance, and the diligent improvement of
opportunities, will do the rest.
Sir Walter Scott found opportunities for self-improvement in every
pursuit, and turned even accidents to account. Thus it was in the
discharge of his functions as a writer’s apprentice that he first
visited the Highlands, and formed those friendships among the
surviving heroes of 1745 which served to lay the foundation of a
large class of his works. Later in life, when employed as
quartermaster of the Edinburgh Light Cavalry, he was accidentally
disabled by the kick of a horse, and confined for some time to his
house; but Scott was a sworn enemy to idleness, and he forthwith
set his mind to work. In three days he had composed the first
canto of ‘The Lay of the Last Minstrel,’ which he shortly after
finished,—his first great original work.
The attention of Dr. Priestley, the discoverer of so many gases,
was accidentally drawn to the subject of chemistry through his
living in the neighbourhood of a brewery. When visiting the place
one day, he noted the peculiar appearances attending the extinction
of lighted chips in the gas floating over the fermented liquor. He
was forty years old at the time, and knew nothing of chemistry. He
consulted books to ascertain the cause, but they told him little,
for as yet nothing was known on the subject. Then he began to
experiment, with some rude apparatus of his own contrivance. The
curious results of his first experiments led to others, which in
his hands shortly became the science of pneumatic chemistry. About
the same time, Scheele was obscurely working in the same direction
in a remote Swedish village; and he discovered several new gases,
with no more effective apparatus at his command than a few
apothecaries’ phials and pigs’ bladders.
Sir Humphry Davy, when an apothecary’s apprentice, performed his
first experiments with instruments of the rudest description. He
extemporised the greater part of them himself, out of the motley
materials which chance threw in his way,—the pots and pans of the
kitchen, and the phials and vessels of his master’s surgery. It
happened that a French ship was wrecked off the Land’s End, and the
surgeon escaped, bearing with him his case of instruments, amongst
which was an old-fashioned glyster apparatus; this article he
presented to Davy, with whom he had become acquainted. The
apothecary’s apprentice received it with great exultation, and
forthwith employed it as a part of a pneumatic apparatus which he
contrived, afterwards using it to perform the duties of an air-pump
in one of his experiments on the nature and sources of heat.
In like manner Professor Faraday, Sir Humphry Davy’s scientific
successor, made his first experiments in electricity by means of an
old bottle, white he was still a working bookbinder. And it is a
curious fact that Faraday was first attracted to the study of
chemistry by hearing one of Sir Humphry Davy’s lectures on the
subject at the Royal Institution. A gentleman, who was a member,
calling one day at the shop where Faraday was employed in binding
books, found him poring over the article “Electricity” in an
Encyclopaedia placed in his hands to bind. The gentleman, having
made inquiries, found that the young bookbinder was curious about
such subjects, and gave him an order of admission to the Royal
Institution, where he attended a course of four lectures delivered
by Sir Humphry. He took notes of them, which he showed to the
lecturer, who acknowledged their scientific accuracy, and was
surprised when informed of the humble position of the reporter.
Faraday then expressed his desire to devote himself to the
prosecution of chemical studies, from which Sir Humphry at first
endeavoured to dissuade him: but the young man persisting, he was
at length taken into the Royal Institution as an assistant; and
eventually the mantle of the brilliant apothecary’s boy fell upon
the worthy shoulders of the equally brilliant bookbinder’s
apprentice.
The words which Davy entered in his notebook, when about twenty
years of age, working in Dr. Beddoes’ laboratory at Bristol, were
eminently characteristic of him: “I have neither riches, nor
power, nor birth to recommend me; yet if I live, I trust I shall
not be of less service to mankind and my friends, than if I had
been born with all these advantages.” Davy possessed the
capability, as Faraday does, of devoting the whole power of his
mind to the practical and experimental investigation of a subject
in all its bearings; and such a mind will rarely fail, by dint of
mere industry and patient thinking, in producing results of the
highest order. Coleridge said of Davy, “There is an energy and
elasticity in his mind, which enables him to seize on and analyze
all questions, pushing them to their legitimate consequences.
Every subject in Davy’s mind has the principle of vitality. Living
thoughts spring up like turf under his feet.” Davy, on his part,
said of Coleridge, whose abilities he greatly admired, “With the
most exalted genius, enlarged views, sensitive heart, and
enlightened mind, he will be the victim of a want of order,
precision, and regularity.”
The great Cuvier was a singularly accurate, careful, and
industrious observer. When a boy, he was attracted to the subject
of natural history by the sight of a volume of Buffon which
accidentally fell in his way. He at once proceeded to copy the
drawings, and to colour them after the descriptions given in the
text. While still at school, one of his teachers made him a
present of ‘Linnaeus’s System of Nature;’ and for more than ten
years this constituted his library of natural history. At eighteen
he was offered the situation of tutor in a family residing near
Fecamp, in Normandy. Living close to the sea-shore, he was brought
face to face with the wonders of marine life. Strolling along the
sands one day, he observed a stranded cuttlefish. He was attracted
by the curious object, took it home to dissect, and thus began the
study of the molluscae, in the pursuit of which he achieved so
distinguished a reputation. He had no books to refer to, excepting
only the great book of Nature which lay open before him. The study
of the novel and interesting objects which it daily presented to
his eyes made a much deeper impression on his mind than any written
or engraved descriptions could possibly have done. Three years
thus passed, during which he compared the living species of marine
animals with the fossil remains found in the neighbourhood,
dissected the specimens of marine life that came under his notice,
and, by careful observation, prepared the way for a complete reform
in the classification of the animal kingdom. About this time
Cuvier became known to the learned Abbe Teissier, who wrote to
Jussieu and other friends in Paris on the subject of the young
naturalist’s inquiries, in terms of such high commendation, that
Cuvier was requested to send some of his papers to the Society of
Natural History; and he was shortly after appointed assistant-superintendent at the Jardin des Plantes. In the letter written by
Teissier to Jussieu, introducing the young naturalist to his
notice, he said, “You remember that it was I who gave Delambre to
the Academy in another branch of science: this also will be a
Delambre.” We need scarcely add that the prediction of Teissier
was more than fulfilled.
It is not accident, then, that helps a man in the world so much as
purpose and persistent industry. To the feeble, the sluggish and
purposeless, the happiest accidents avail nothing,—they pass them
by, seeing no meaning in them. But it is astonishing how much can
be accomplished if we are prompt to seize and improve the
opportunities for action and effort which are constantly presenting
themselves. Watt taught himself chemistry and mechanics while
working at his trade of a mathematical-instrument maker, at the
same time that he was learning German from a Swiss dyer.
Stephenson taught himself arithmetic and mensuration while working
as an engineman during the night shifts; and when he could snatch a
few moments in the intervals allowed for meals during the day, he
worked his sums with a bit of chalk upon the sides of the colliery
waggons. Dalton’s industry was the habit of his life. He began
from his boyhood, for he taught a little village-school when he was
only about twelve years old,—keeping the school in winter, and
working upon his father’s farm in summer. He would sometimes urge
himself and companions to study by the stimulus of a bet, though
bred a Quaker; and on one occasion, by his satisfactory solution of
a problem, he won as much as enabled him to buy a winter’s store of
candles. He continued his meteorological observations until a day
or two before he died,—having made and recorded upwards of 200,000
in the course of his life.
With perseverance, the very odds and ends of time may
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