Self Help
by Mark Zimmerman
By Samuel Smiles
CHAPTER XII. - EXAMPLE - MODELS
"Ever their phantoms rise before us,
Our loftier brothers, but one in blood;
By bed and table they lord it o'er us,
With looks of beauty and words of good." -
John Sterling.
"Children may be strangled, but Deeds never; they have an indestructible
life, both in and out of our consciousness."
- George Eliot.
"There is no action of man in this life, which is not the
beginning of so long a chain of consequences, as that no human providence is high
enough to give us a prospect to the end." - Thomas of Malmesbury.
Example is one of the most potent of instructors, though it teaches without
a tongue. It is the practical school of mankind, working by action, which is
always more forcible than words. Precept may point to us the way, but it is
silent continuous example,
conveyed to us by habits, and living with us in fact, that carries us along. Good advice
has its weight: but without the accompaniment of a good example
it is of comparatively small influence;
and it will be found that the common saying of "Do as I say, not as I
do," is usually reversed in the actual experience of
life.
All persons are more or less apt to learn through the eye rather than
the ear; and, whatever is seen in fact, makes a far deeper impression than
anything that is merely read or heard. This
is especially the case in early youth, when the eye is the chief inlet of knowledge.
Whatever children see they unconsciously imitate. They insensibly come
to resemble those who are about them – as insects take the colour of the leaves
they feed on.
Hence the vast importance of domestic training. For whatever may be the
efficiency of schools, the examples set in our Homes must always be of vastly greater influence in forming the characters of
our future men and women. The Home is the crystal of society - the nucleus of national character;
and from that source, be it pure or tainted, issue the habits, principles and
maxims, which govern public as well as private life. The nation comes from the
nursery. Public opinion itself is for the most part the outgrowth of the home;
and the best philanthropy comes from the fireside. "To love the little platoon
we belong to in society," says Burke, "is the germ of all public affections." From this little
central spot, the human sympathies may extend in an ever widening circle, until
the world is embraced; for, though true philanthropy,
like charity, begins at home, assuredly it does not end there.
Example in conduct, therefore, even in apparently trivial matters, is
of no light moment, inasmuch as it is constantly becoming inwoven with the
lives of others, and contributing to form their
natures for better or for worse. The characters of
parents are thus constantly repeated in their children; and the acts of affection,
discipline, industry, and self-control, which they daily exemplify, live and act when
all else which may have been learned through the ear has long been forgotten.
Hence a wise man
was accustomed to speak of his children as his "future state." Even
the mute action and unconscious look of a parent may give a stamp to the character which
is never effaced; and who can tell how much evil act has been stayed by
the thought of
some good parent,
whose memory their
children may not sully by the commission of an unworthy deed, or the indulgence
of an impure thought? The veriest trifles thus become of importance in influencing the characters of
men. "A kiss from my mother," said West, "made me a
painter." It is on the direction of such seeming trifles when
children that the future happiness and success of men mainly depend. Fowell
Buxton, when occupying an eminent and influential station
in life, wrote to his mother, "I constantly feel,
especially in action and exertion for others, the effects of
principles early implanted by you in my mind." Buxton
was also accustomed to remember with gratitude the obligations which he owed
to an illiterate man, a gamekeeper, named Abraham Plastow, with whom he played,
and rode, and sported - a man who could neither read nor write, but was full of
natural good
sense and mother-wit. "What made him particularly valuable," says Buxton,
"were his principles of integrity and honour. He never said or did a thing
in the absence of my mother of which she would have disapproved. He always held
up the highest standard of integrity, and filled our youthful minds with
sentiments as pure and as generous as could be found in the writings of Seneca
or Cicero. Such was my first instructor, and, I must add, my best."
Lord Langdale, looking back upon the admirable example set him by his
mother, declared, "If the whole world were put into one scale, and my
mother into the other, the world would kick the beam." Mrs. Schimmel
Penninck, in her old age, was accustomed to call to mind the
personal influence exercised
by her mother upon the society amidst which she moved. When she entered a room
it had the effect
of immediately raising the tone of the conversation, and as if purifying the moral
atmosphere - all seeming to breathe more freely, and stand more erectly.
"In her presence," says the daughter, "I became for the
time transformed into
another person."
So much does she moral health depend upon the moral atmosphere that is breathed, and so great is the influence daily exercised by parents over their children by living a life before their eyes, that perhaps the best system of parental instruction might be summed up in these two words: "Improve thyself."
There is something solemn and awful in the thought that
there is not an act done or a word uttered by a human being but
carries with it a train of consequences, the end of which we may never trace.
Not one but, to a certain extent, gives a colour to our life, and insensibly influences the lives of those about us. The good deed or word will live, even though we may not see it fructify, but so will the bad; and no person is so insignificant as to be sure that his example will not do good on the one hand, or evil on the other.
The spirits of men do not die: they still live and walk abroad among us. It was a fine and a true thought uttered by Mr. Disraeli in the House of Commons on the death of Richard Cobden, that "he was one of those men who, though not present, were still members of that House, who were independent of dissolutions, of the caprices of constituencies, and even of the course of time."
There is, indeed, an essence of immortality in the life of man, even in
this world. No individual in the universe stands alone; he is a
component part of a system of mutual dependencies; and by his several acts he
either increases or diminishes the sum of human good now
and for ever. As the present is rooted in the past, and the lives and examples
of our forefathers still to a great extent influence us,
so are we by our daily acts contributing to form the
condition and character of
the future. Man is a fruit formed and ripened by the culture of all the foregoing centuries; and the living
generation continues the
magnetic current of action and example destined to bind the remotest past with
the most distant future. No man's acts die utterly; and though his body may
resolve into dust and air, his good or
his bad deeds will still be bringing forth fruit after their kind, and influencing future
generations for all time to come. It is in this momentous and solemn fact that the
great peril and responsibility of human existence lies.
Mr. Babbage has so powerfully expressed this idea in a noble passage
in one of his writings that we here venture to quote his words: "Every
atom," he says, "impressed with good or
ill, retains at once the motions which philosophers and sages have
imparted to it, mixed and combined in ten thousand ways with all that is worthless
and base; the air itself is one vast library, on whose pages are written FOR
EVER all that man has ever said or whispered.
There, in their immutable but unerring characters,
mixed with the earliest as well as the latest sighs of mortality, stand for
ever recorded vows unredeemed, promises unfulfilled; perpetuating, in the
united movements of each particle, the testimony of man's changeful will. But,
if the air we breathe is the never-failing historian of the sentiments we have
uttered, earth, air, and ocean, are, in like manner, the eternal witnesses of
the acts we have done; the same principle of the equality of action and
reaction applies to them. No motion impressed by natural causes, or by human
agency, is ever obliterated. . . . If the Almighty stamped on the brow of the
first murderer the indelible and visible mark of his guilt, He has
also established laws by which every succeeding criminal is not less
irrevocably chained to the testimony of his crime; for every atom of his mortal
frame, through whatever changes its severed particles may migrate, will still
retain adhering to it, through every combination, some movement derived from
that very muscular effort by which the crime itself was perpetrated."
Thus, every act we do or word we utter, as well as every act we witness
or word we hear,
carries with it an influence which extends over, and gives a colour, not
only to the whole of our future life, but makes itself felt upon
the whole frame of society. We may not, and indeed cannot, possibly, trace
the influence working
itself into action in its various ramifications amongst our children, our friends,
or associates; yet there it is assuredly, working on for ever. And herein lies
the great significance of setting forth a good example,
- a silent teaching which even the poorest and least significant person can
practise in his daily life. There is no one so humble, but that he owes to
others this simple but priceless instruction. Even the meanest condition may
thus be made useful; for the light set in a low place shines as faithfully as
that set upon a hill. Everywhere, and under almost all circumstances, however
externally adverse - in moorland shielings, in cottage hamlets, in the close
alleys of great towns - the true man
may grow.
He who tills a space of earth scarce bigger than is needed for his grave, may
work as faithfully,
and to as good purpose,
as the heir to thousands. The commonest workshop may thus be a school of
industry, science, and good morals, on the one hand; or of idleness, folly,
and depravity, on the other. It all depends on the individual men, and the use
they make of the opportunities for good which
offer themselves.
A life well spent, a character uprightly
sustained, is no slight legacy to leave to one's children, and to the world;
for it is the most eloquent lesson of virtue and
the severest reproof of vice, while it continues an
enduring source of the best kind of riches.
Well for those who can say, as Pope did, in rejoinder to the sarcasm of Lord Hervey, "I think it enough that my parents, such as they were, never cost me a blush, and that their son, such as he is, never cost them a tear."
It is not enough to tell others what they are to do, but to exhibit the
actual example of doing. What Mrs. Chisholm described to Mrs. Stowe as the
secret of her success, applies to all life. "I found," she said,
"that if we want anything DONE, we must go to work and DO, it
is of no use merely to talk - none whatever." It is poor
eloquence that only shows how a person can talk. Had Mrs. Chisholm rested satisfied with
lecturing, her project, she was persuaded, would never have got beyond the
region of talk; but when people saw what
she was doing and had actually accomplished, they fell in with her views and
came forward to help her. Hence the most beneficent worker is not he
who says the most eloquent things, or even who thinks the
most loftily, but he who does the most eloquent acts.
True-hearted persons, even in the humblest station in life, who are energetic
doers, may thus give an impulse to good works
out of all proportion, apparently, to their actual station in society. Thomas Wright
might have talked about the reclamation of criminals, and John Pounds about the
necessity for Ragged Schools, and yet done nothing; instead of which they
simply set to work without any other idea in their minds than
that of doing, not talking. And how the example of even the poorest man may
tell upon society, hear what
Dr. Guthrie, the apostle of the Ragged School movement, says of the influence which
the example of John Pounds, the humble Portsmouth cobbler, exercised upon his
own working career:- "The interest I have been led to take in this cause
is an example of how, in Providence, a man's destiny - his course of life, like
that of a river - may be determined and affected by very trivial circumstances.
It is rather curious - at least it is interesting to me to remember -
that it was by a picture I was first led to take an interest in ragged schools
- by a picture in an old, obscure, decaying burgh that stands on the shores of
the Frith of Forth, the birthplace of Thomas Chalmers. I went to see this
place many years ago; and, going into an inn for refreshment, I found the room
covered with pictures of shepherdesses with their crooks, and sailors in
holiday attire, not particularly interesting. But above the chimney-piece there
was a large print, more respectable than its neighbours, which represented a
cobbler's room. The cobbler was there himself,
spectacles on nose, an old shoe between his knees - the massive forehead and
firm mouth indicating great determination of character,
and, beneath his bushy eyebrows, benevolence gleamed out on a number of poor ragged
boys and girls who stood at their lessons round the busy cobbler. My curiosity was awakened;
and in the inscription I read how this man, John Pounds, a cobbler in
Portsmouth, taking pity on the multitude of poor ragged children left by
ministers and magistrates, and ladies and gentlemen, to go to ruin on the
streets - how, like a good shepherd, he gathered in these wretched outcasts - how
he had trained them to God and to the world - and how, while earning his daily
bread by the sweat of his brow, he had rescued from misery and saved to society
not less than five hundred of these children.
My feelings were touched. I
was astonished at this man's achievements; and I well remember, in
the enthusiasm of the moment, saying to my companion (and I have seen in
my cooler and calmer moments no reason for unsaying the saying) - 'That man is
an honour to humanity, and deserves the tallest monument ever raised within the shores of Britain .' I
took up that man's history, and I found it
animated by the spirit of Him who 'had compassion on
the multitude.' John Pounds was a clever man besides; and, like
Paul, if he could not win a poor boy any other way, he won him by art.
He would be seen chasing a ragged boy along the quays, and compelling him to come to school, not by the power of a policeman, but by the power of a hot potato. He knew the love an Irishman had for a potato; and John Pounds might be seen running holding under the boy's nose a potato, like an Irishman, very hot, and with a coat as ragged as himself. When the day comes when honour will be done to whom honour is due, I can fancy the crowd of those whose fame poets have sung, and to whose memory monuments have been raised, dividing like the wave, and, passing the great, and the noble, and the mighty of the land, this poor, obscure old man stepping forward and receiving the especial notice of Him who said 'Inasmuch as ye did it to one of the least of these, ye did it also to Me.'"
The education of character is very much a question of models; we mould ourselves so
unconsciously after the characters, manners, habits, and opinions of those who are
about us. Good rules
may do much, but good models far more; for in the latter we have instruction
in action - wisdom at work. Good admonition
and bad example only build with one hand to pull down with the other.
Hence the vast importance of exercising great care in the selection of companions, especially in youth. There is a magnetic affinity in young persons which insensibly tends to assimilate them to each other's likeness. Mr. Edgeworth was so strongly convinced that from sympathy they involuntarily imitated or caught the tone of the company they frequented, that he held it to be of the most essential importance that they should be taught to select the very best models. "No company, or good company," was his motto. Lord Collingwood, writing to a young friend, said, "Hold it as a maxim that you had better be alone than in mean company. Let your companions be such as yourself, or superior; for the worth of a man will always be ruled by that of his company." It was a remark of the famous Dr. Sydenham that everybody some time or other would be the better or the worse for having but spoken to a good or a bad man. As Sir Peter Lely made it a rule never to look at a bad picture if he could help it, believing that whenever he did so his pencil caught a taint from it, so, whoever chooses to gaze often upon a debased specimen of humanity and to frequent his society, cannot help gradually assimilating himself to that sort of model.
It is therefore advisable for young men to seek the fellowship of the good, and
always to aim at a higher standard than themselves.
Francis Horner, speaking of the advantages to himself of direct personal intercourse with high-minded, intelligent men, said, "I cannot hesitate to decide that I have derived more intellectual improvement from them than from all the books I have turned over."
Lord Shelburne (afterwards Marquis of Lansdowne), when a young man, paid a visit to the venerable Malesherbes, and was so much impressed by it, that he said, - "I have travelled much, but I have never been so influenced by personal contact with any man; and if I ever accomplish any good in the course of my life, I am certain that the recollection of M. de Malesherbes will animate my soul."
So Fowell Buxton was always ready to acknowledge the powerful influence exercised upon the formation of his character in early life by the example of the Gurney family: "It has given a colour to my life," he used to say. Speaking of his success at the
Contact with the good never fails to impart good, and we
carry away with us some of the blessing, as travellers' garments retain the odour
of the flowers and shrubs through which they have passed.
Those who knew the late John Sterling intimately, have spoken of the beneficial influence which he exercised on all with whom he came into personal contact. Many owed to him their first awakening to a higher being; from him they learnt what they were, and what they ought to be. Mr. Trench says of him:- "It was impossible to come in contact with his noble nature without feeling one's self in some measure ENNOBLED and LIFTED UP, as I ever felt when I left him, into a higher region of objects and aims than that in which one is tempted habitually to dwell." It is thus that the noble character always acts; we become insensibly elevated by him, and cannot help feeling as he does and acquiring the habit of looking at things in the same light. Such is the magical action and reaction of minds upon each other.
Artists, also, feel themselves elevated by contact with artists greater
than themselves.
Thus Haydn's genius was first fired by Handel. Hearing him
play, Haydn's ardour for musical composition was at once excited, and but for
this circumstance, he himself believed that he would never have written the 'Creation.' Speaking of
Handel, he said, "When he chooses, he strikes like the thunderbolt;"
and at another time, "There is not a note of him but draws
blood." Scarlatti was another of Handel's ardent admirers, following
him all over Italy; afterwards, when speaking of the great master, he would
cross himself in
token of admiration. True artists never fail generously to
recognise each other's greatness.
Thus Beethoven's admiration for Cherubini was regal: and he ardently
hailed the genius of Schubert: "Truly,"
said he, "in Schubert dwells a divine fire." When
Northcote was a mere youth he had such an admiration for Reynolds that, when
the great painter was once attending a public meeting down in Devonshire, the boy pushed through
the crowd, and got so near Reynolds as to touch the
skirt of his coat, "which I did," says Northcote, "with great satisfaction to
my mind,"
- a true touch of
youthful enthusiasm in its admiration of genius.
The example of the brave is an inspiration to the timid, their presence
thrilling through every fibre. Hence the miracles of valour so often performed
by ordinary men under the leadership of the heroic. The very recollection of
the deeds of the valiant stirs men's blood like the sound of a trumpet. Ziska
bequeathed his skin to be used as a drum to inspire the valour of the Bohemians.
When Scanderbeg, prince of Epirus, was dead, the Turks wished to possess his
bones, that each might wear a piece next his heart, hoping thus to secure some
portion of the courage he had displayed while living, and which they had so
often experienced in
battle. When the gallant Douglas, bearing the heart of Bruce to the Holy
Land, saw one
of his knights surrounded and sorely pressed by the Saracens, he took from his
neck the silver case containing the hero's bequest, and throwing it amidst the
thickest press of his foes, cried, "Pass first in fight, as thou wert wont
to do, and Douglas will follow thee, or die;" and so saying, he rushed
forward to the place where it fell, and was there slain.
Our great forefathers still live among us in the records of their lives,
as well as in the acts they have done, which live also; still sit by us at
table, and hold us by the hand; furnishing examples for our benefit, which we
may still study, admire and imitate. Indeed, whoever has left behind him the
record of a noble life, has bequeathed to posterity an enduring source of good, for it serves as a model for others to form themselves by
in all time to come; still breathing fresh life into men, helping them
to reproduce his life anew, and to illustrate his character in
other forms.
Hence a book containing the life of a true man
is full of precious seed. It is a still living voice; it is an intellect. To
use Milton 's
words, "it is the precious life-blood of a master spirit,
embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life." Such a book never ceases to
exercise an elevating and ennobling influence.
But, above all, there is the Book containing the very highest Example set
before us to shape our lives by in this world - the most suitable for all the necessities of our mind and heart - an example which we can only follow
afar off and feel after, "Like plants or vines which
never saw the
sun, But dream of
him and guess where he may be, And do their best to climb and get to him."
Again, no young man can rise from the perusal of such lives as those of
Buxton and Arnold, without feeling his mind and
heart made better, and his best resolves invigorated. Such biographies increase
a man's self-reliance by
demonstrating what men can be, and what they can do; fortifying his hopes and
elevating his aims in life. Sometimes a young man discovers himself in
a biography, as Correggio felt within him the risings of genius on contemplating
the works of Michael Angelo: "And I too, am a painter," he exclaimed.
Sir Samuel Romilly, in his autobiography, confessed himself to
have been powerfully influenced by the life of the great and noble-minded French
Chancellor Daguesseau:- "The works of Thomas," says he, "had
fallen into my hands, and I had read with admiration his 'Eloge of Daguesseau;'
and the career of honour which he represented that illustrious magistrate to
have run, excited to a great degree my ardour and ambition, and opened to my imagination
new paths of glory."
Franklin was accustomed to attribute his usefulness and eminence to his
having early read Cotton Mather's 'Essays to do Good' - a book which grew out
of Mather's own life.
And see how good example
draws other men after it, and propagates itself through future generations in all lands. For Samuel Drew avers that he framed his own life,
and especially his business habits, after the model left on record by Benjamin
Franklin. Thus it is impossible to say where a good example
may not reach, or where it will end, if indeed it have an end. Hence the
advantage, in literature as in life, of keeping the best society, reading the
best books, and wisely admiring and imitating the best things we find in
them. "In literature," said
Lord Dudley, "I am fond of confining myself to
the best company, which consists chiefly of my old acquaintance, with
whom I am desirous of
becoming more intimate; and I suspect that nine times out of ten it is more
profitable, if not more agreeable, to read an old book over again, than to read
a new one
for the first time."
for the first time."
Sometimes a book containing a noble exemplar
of life, taken up at random, merely with the object of
reading it as a pastime, has been known to
call forth energies whose existence had not before been suspected. Alfieri was
first drawn with passion to literature by reading 'Plutarch's
Lives.' Loyola, when a soldier serving at the siege of Pampeluna,
and laid up by a dangerous wound in his leg, asked for a book to divert
his thoughts:
the 'Lives of the Saints' was brought to him, and its perusal so inflamed
his mind,
that he determined thenceforth to devote himself to
the founding of a religious order. Luther, in like manner, was inspired to undertake the great
labours of his life by a perusal of the 'Life and Writings of John
Huss.' Dr. Wolff was stimulated to enter upon his missionary career
by reading the 'Life of Francis Xavier;' and the book fired his youthful bosom with a passion the most sincere and ardent to
devote himself to
the enterprise of his life. William Carey, also, got the first idea of entering
upon his sublime labours as a missionary from a perusal of the Voyages of
Captain Cook.
Francis Horner was accustomed to note in his diary and letters the books
by which he was most improved and influenced.
Amongst these were Condorcet's 'Eloge of Haller,' Sir Joshua Reynolds' 'Discourses,'
the writings of Bacon, and 'Burnet's Account of Sir Matthew Hale.' The perusal of the last-mentioned book – the portrait
of a prodigy of labour - Horner says, filled him with enthusiasm. Of
Condorcet's 'Eloge of Haller,' he said: "I never rise from the account of
such men without a sort of thrilling palpitation about me, which I know not
whether I should call admiration, ambition, or despair." And
speaking of the 'Discourses' of Sir Joshua Reynolds, he said: "Next to the
writings of Bacon, there is no book which has more powerfully impelled me
to self-culture.
He is one of the first men of genius who has condescended to inform the world
of the steps by which greatness is attained. The confidence with which he asserts the omnipotence
of human labour has the effect of familiarising his reader with the idea that
genius is an acquisition rather than a gift; whilst with all there is blended
so naturally and eloquently the most elevated and passionate admiration of
excellence, that upon the whole there is no book of a more INFLAMMATORY effect." It
is remarkable that Reynolds himself attributed
his first passionate impulse towards the study of art, to reading Richardson 's account of a
great painter; and Haydon was in like manner afterwards inflamed to follow the
same pursuit by reading of the career of Reynolds. Thus the brave and aspiring
life of one man lights a flame in the minds of
others of like faculties and impulse; and where there is equally vigorous
efforts like distinction and success will almost surely follow. Thus the chain
of example is carried down through time in an endless succession of links, - admiration exciting imitation, and perpetuating the true aristocracy
of genius.
One of the most valuable, and one of the most infectious examples which
can be set before the young, is that of cheerful working.
Cheerfulness gives elasticity to the spirit. Spectres fly before it; difficulties cause no despair, for they are encountered with hope, and the mind acquires that happy disposition to improve opportunities which rarely fails of success. The fervent spirit is always a healthy and happy spirit; working cheerfully itself, and stimulating others to work. It confers a dignity on even the most ordinary occupations. The most effective work, also, is usually the full-hearted work - that which passes through the hands or the head of him whose heart is glad. Hume was accustomed to say that he would rather possess a cheerful disposition - inclined always to look at the bright side of things - than with a gloomy mind to be the master of an estate of ten thousand a year. Granville Sharp, amidst his indefatigable labours on behalf of the slave, solaced himself in the evenings by taking part in glees and instrumental concerts at his brother's house, singing, or playing on the flute, the clarionet or the oboe; and, at the Sunday evening oratorios, when Handel was played, he beat the kettle-drums. He also indulged, though sparingly, in caricature drawing. Fowell Buxton also was an eminently cheerful man; taking special pleasure in field sports, in riding about the country with his children, and in mixing in all their domestic amusements.
In another sphere of action, Dr. Arnold was a noble and
a cheerful worker, throwing himself into
the great business of his life, the training and teaching of young men, with
his whole heart and soul.
It is stated in his admirable biography, that "the most remarkable thing in the Laleham circle was the wonderful healthiness of tone which prevailed there. It was a place where a new comer at once felt that a great and earnest work was going forward. Every pupil was made to feel that there was a work for him to do; that his happiness, as well as his duty, lay in doing that work well. Hence an indescribable zest was communicated to a young man's feeling about life; a strange joy came over him on discerning that he had the means of being useful, and thus of being happy; and a deep respect and ardent attachment sprang up towards him who had taught him thus to value life and his own self, and his work and mission in the world. All this was founded on the breadth and comprehensiveness of Arnold's character, as well as its striking truth and reality; on the unfeigned regard he had for work of all kinds, and the sense he had of its value, both for the complex aggregate of society and the growth and protection of the individual. In all this there was no excitement; no predilection for one class of work above another; no enthusiasm for any one- sided object: but a humble, profound, and most religious consciousness that work is the appointed calling of man on earth; the end for which his various faculties were given; the element in which his nature is ordained to develop itself, and in which his progressive advance towards heaven is to lie." Among the many valuable men trained for public life and usefulness by Arnold, was the gallant Hodson, of Hodson's Horse, who, writing home from India, many years after, thus spoke of his revered master: "The influence he produced has been most lasting and striking in its effects. It is felt even in
The useful influence which a right-hearted man of energy and industry
may exercise amongst his neighbours and dependants, and accomplish for his
country, cannot, perhaps, be better illustrated than by the career of Sir John
Sinclair; characterized by
the Abbe Gregoire as "the most indefatigable man in Europe ." He
was originally a country laird, born to a considerable estate situated near
John o' Groat's House, almost beyond the beat of civilization, in a bare wild
country fronting the stormy North Sea . His
father dying while he was a youth of sixteen, the management of the family property
thus early devolved upon him; and at eighteen he began a course of vigorous
improvement in the county of Caithness, which eventually spread all over
Scotland. Agriculture then was in a most backward state; the fields were unenclosed, the lands undrained; the
small farmers of Caithness were so poor that they could scarcely afford to keep
a horse or shelty; the hard work was chiefly done, and the burdens borne, by
the women; and if a cottier lost a horse it was not unusual for him to marry a
wife as the cheapest substitute. The country was without roads or bridges; and drovers
driving their cattle south had to swim the rivers along with their beasts. The
chief track leading into Caithness lay along a
high shelf on a mountain side, the road being some
hundred feet of clear perpendicular height above the sea which dashed below.
Sir John, though a mere youth, determined to make a new road over the hill of
Ben Cheilt, the old let-alone proprietors, however, regarding his scheme with
incredulity and derision. But he himself laid
out the road, assembled some twelve hundred workmen early one summer's morning,
set them simultaneously to work, superintending their labours, and stimulating
them by his presence and example; and before night, what had been a dangerous
sheep track, six miles in length, hardly passable for led horses, was made
practicable for wheel-carriages as if by the power of magic.
It was an admirable example of energy and well-directed labour, which could not fail to have a most salutary influence upon the surrounding population. He then proceeded to make more roads, to erect mills, to build bridges, and to enclose and cultivate the waste lands. He introduced improved methods of culture, and regular rotation of crops, distributing small premiums to encourage industry; and he thus soon quickened the whole frame of society within reach of his influence, and infused an entirely new spirit into the cultivators of the soil. From being one of the most inaccessible districts of the north - the very ULTIMA THULE of civilization -
Observing the serious deterioration which had taken place in the quality of British wool, - one of the staple commodities of the country, - he forthwith, though but a private and little-known country gentleman, devoted himself to its improvement. By his personal exertions he established the British Wool Society for the purpose, and himself led the way to practical improvement by importing 800 sheep from all countries, at his own expense.
The result was, the introduction into Scotland of the celebrated Cheviot
breed. Sheep farmers scouted the idea of south country flocks being able
to thrive in the far north. But Sir John persevered; and in a few years there
were not fewer than 300,000 Cheviots diffused over the four northern
counties alone.
The value of all grazing land was thus enormously increased; and Scotch estates,
which before were comparatively worthless, began to yield large rentals.
Returned by Caithness to Parliament,
in which he remained for thirty years, rarely missing a division, his position
gave him farther opportunities of usefulness, which he did not neglect to employ.
Mr. Pitt, observing his persevering energy in all useful public projects, sent
for him to Downing Street, and voluntarily proposed his assistance in any object he
might have in view.
Another man might have thought of himself and
his own promotion; but Sir John characteristically replied,
that he desired no
favour for himself,
but intimated that the reward most gratifying to his feelings would
be Mr. Pitt's assistance in the establishment of a National Board of
Agriculture. Arthur Young laid a bet with the baronet that his scheme would
never be established, adding, "Your Board of Agriculture will be in the
moon!" But vigorously setting to work, he roused public
attention to the subject, enlisted a majority of Parliament on his side, and
eventually established the Board, of which he was appointed President. The result of its action need not
be described, but the stimulus which it gave to agriculture and stock-raising
was shortly felt throughout the whole United Kingdom , and tens of
thousands of acres were redeemed from barrenness by its operation. He was
equally indefatigable in encouraging the establishment of fisheries; and the
successful founding of these great branches of British industry at Thurso and Wick
was mainly due to his exertions. He urged for long years, and at length
succeeded in obtaining the enclosure of a harbour for the latter place, which
is perhaps the greatest and most prosperous fishing town in the world.
Sir John threw his personal energy into every work in which he engaged,
rousing the inert, stimulating the idle, encouraging the hopeful, and working
with all. When a French invasion was threatened, he offered to Mr. Pitt to
raise a regiment on his own estate, and he was as good as
his word. He went down to the north, and raised a battalion of 600 men,
afterwards increased to 1000; and it was admitted to be one of the finest
volunteer regiments ever raised, inspired throughout by his own noble and
patriotic spirit.
While commanding officer of the camp at Aberdeen he held the offices of a
Director of the Bank of Scotland, Chairman of the British Wool Society, Provost
of Wick, Director of the British Fishery Society, Commissioner for issuing
Exchequer Bills, Member of Parliament for Caithness, and President of the Board
of Agriculture. Amidst all this multifarious and self-imposed work,
he even found time to write books, enough of themselves to
establish a reputation. When Mr. Rush, the American Ambassador, arrived in
England, he relates that he inquired of Mr. Coke of Holkham, what
was the best work on Agriculture, and was referred to Sir John Sinclair's; and
when he further asked of Mr. Vansittart, Chancellor of the Exchequer, what was
the best work on British Finance, he was again referred to a work by Sir John Sinclair, his 'History of
the Public Revenue.' But the great monument of his indefatigable
industry, a work that would have appalled other men, but only served to rouse
and sustain his energy, was his 'Statistical Account of Scotland,' in
twenty-one volumes, one of the most valuable practical works ever published in
any age or country. Amid a host of other pursuits it occupied him nearly eight
years of hard labour, during which he received, and attended to, upwards of
20,000 letters on the subject. It was a thoroughly patriotic undertaking, from
which he derived no personal advantage whatever,
beyond the honour of having completed it. The whole of the profits were assigned by him to the
Society for the Sons of the Clergy in Scotland . The publication of the
book led to great public improvements; it was followed by the immediate
abolition of several oppressive feudal rights, to which it called attention;
the salaries of schoolmasters and clergymen in many parishes were increased;
and an increased stimulus was given to agriculture throughout Scotland. Sir
John then publicly offered to undertake the much greater labour of collecting
and publishing a similar Statistical Account of England; but unhappily the
then Archbishop of Canterbury refused to sanction it, lest it should interfere
with the tithes of the clergy, and the idea was abandoned.
A remarkable illustration of his energetic promptitude was the manner
in which he once provided, on a great emergency, for the relief of the
manufacturing districts. In 1793 the stagnation produced by the war led to an
unusual number of bankruptcies, and many of the first houses in Manchester and
Glasgow were tottering, not so much from want of property, but because the
usual sources of trade and credit were for the time closed up. A period of
intense distress amongst the labouring classes seemed imminent, when Sir John
urged, in Parliament, that Exchequer notes to the amount of five millions
should be issued immediately as a loan to such merchants as could give
security. This suggestion was adopted, and his offer to carry out his plan, in
conjunction with certain members named by him, was also accepted. The
vote was passed late at night, and early next morning Sir John, anticipating
the delays of officialism and red tape, proceeded to bankers in the city, and borrowed
of them, on his own personal security, the sum of 70,000L., which he despatched
the same evening to those merchants who were in the most urgent need of
assistance. Pitt meeting Sir John in the House, expressed his great regret that
the pressing wants of Manchester and Glasgow could not be supplied so soon as was desirable,
adding, "The money cannot be raised for some days."
"It is already gone! it left
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