James Watt - Andrew Carnegie (readnow TXT) 📗

At fifteen, he had twice carefully read "The Elements of Philosophy" (Gravesend), and had made numerous chemical experiments, repeating them again and again, until satisfied of their accuracy. A small electrical machine was one of his productions with which he startled his companions. Visits to his uncle Muirhead at Glasgow were frequent, and here he formed acquaintance with several educated young men, who appreciated his abilities and kindly nature; but the visits to the same kind uncle "on the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomond," where the summer months were spent, gave the youth his happiest days. Indefatigable in habits of observation and research, and devoted to the lonely hills, he extended his knowledge by long excursions, adding to his botanical and mineral treasures. Freely entering the cottages of the people, he spent hours learning their traditions, superstitions, ballads, and all the Celtic lore. He loved nature in her wildest moods, and was a true child of the mist, brimful of poetry and romance, which he was ever ready to shower upon his friends. An omniverous reader, in after life he vindicated his practice of reading every book he found, alleging that he had "never yet read a book or conversed with a companion without gaining information, instruction or amusement." Scott has left on record that he never had met and conversed with a man who could not tell him something he did not know. Watt seems to have resembled Sir Walter, "who spoke to every man he met as if he were a brother"—as indeed he was—one of the many fine traits of that noble, wholesome character. These two foremost Scots, each supreme in his sphere, seem to have had many social traits in common, and both that fine faculty of attracting others.

The only "sport" of the youth was angling, "the most fitting practice for quiet men and lovers of peace," the "Brothers of the Angle," according to Izaak Walton, "being mostly men of mild and gentle disposition." From the ruder athletic games of the school he was debarred, not being robust, and this was a constant source of morbid misery to him, entailing as it did separation from the other boys. The prosecution of his favorite geometry now occupied his thoughts and time, and astronomy also became a fascinating study. Long hours were often spent, lying on his back in a grove near his home, studying the stars by night and the clouds by day.

Watt met his first irreparable loss in 1753, when his mother suddenly died. The relations between them had been such as are only possible between mother and son. Often had the mother said to her intimates that she had been enabled to bear the loss of her daughter only by the love and care of her dutiful son. Home was home no longer for Jamie, and we are not surprised to find him leaving it soon after she who had been to him the light and leading of his life had passed out of it.

Watt now reached his seventeenth year. His father's affairs were greatly embarrassed. It was clearly seen that the two brothers, John and James, had to rely for their support upon their own unaided efforts. John, the elder, some time before this had taken to the sea and been shipwrecked, leaving only James at home. Of course, there was no question as to the career he would adopt. His fortune "lay at his fingers' ends," and accordingly he resolved at once to qualify himself for the trade of a mathematical instrument maker, the career which led him directly in the pathway of mathematics and mechanical science, and enabled him to gratify his unquenchable thirst for knowledge thereof.

Naturally Glasgow was decided upon as the proper place in which to begin, and Watt took up his abode there with his maternal relatives, the Muirheads, carrying his tools with him.

No mathematical instrument maker was to be found in Glasgow, but Watt entered the service of a kind of jack-of-all-trades, who called himself an "optician" and sold and mended spectacles, repaired fiddles, tuned spinets, made fishing-rods and tackle, etc. Watt, as a devoted brother of the angle, was an adept at dressing trout and salmon flies, and handy at so many things that he proved most useful to his employer, but there was nothing to be learned by the ambitious youth.

His most intimate schoolfellow was Andrew Anderson, whose elder brother, John Anderson, was the well-known Professor of natural philosophy, the first to open classes for the instruction of working-men in its principles. He bequeathed his property to found an institution for this purpose, which is now a college of the university. The Professor came to know young Watt through his brother, and Watt became a frequent visitor at his house. He was given unrestricted access to the Professor's valuable library, in which he spent many of his evenings.

One of the chief advantages of the public school is the enduring friendships boys form there, first in importance through their beneficial influence upon character, and, second, as aids to success in after life. The writer has been impressed by this feature, for great is the number of instances he has known where the prized working-boy or man in position has been able, as additional force was required, to say the needed word of recommendation, which gave a start or a lift upward to a dearly-cherished schoolfellow. It seems a grave mistake for parents not to educate their sons in the region of home, or in later years in colleges and universities of their own land, so that early friendships may not be broken, but grow closer with the years. Watt at all events was fortunate in this respect. His schoolmate, Andrew Anderson, brought into his life the noted Professor, with all his knowledge, kindness and influence, and opened to him the kind of library he most needed.

Glasgow to London—Return to Glasgow

Through Professor Muirhead, a kinsman of Watt's mother, he was introduced to many others of the faculty of the university, and, as usual, attracted their attention, especially that of Dr. Dick, Professor of natural philosophy, who strongly advised him to proceed to London, where he could receive better instruction than it was possible to obtain in Scotland at that time. The kind Professor, diviner of latent genius, went so far as to give him a personal introduction, which proved efficient. How true it is that the worthy, aspiring youth rarely goes unrecognised or unaided. Men with kind hearts, wise heads, and influence strong to aid, stand ready at every turn to take modest merit by the hand and give it the only aid needed, opportunity to speak, through results, for itself. So London was determined upon. Fortunately, a distant relative of the Watt family, a sea-captain, was about to set forth upon that then long and toilsome journey. They started from Glasgow June 7, 1755, on horseback, the journey taking twelve days.

The writer's parents often referred to the fact that when the leading linen manufacturer of Dunfermline was about to take the journey to London—the only man in the town then who ever did—special prayers were always said in church for his safety.

The member of Parliament in Watt's day from the extreme north of Scotland would have consumed nearly twice twelve days to reach Westminster. To-day if the capital of the English-speaking race were in America, which Lord Roseberry says he is willing it should be, if thereby the union of our English-speaking race were secured, the members of the Great Council from Britain could reach Washington in seven days, the members from British Columbia and California, upon the Pacific, in five days, both land and sea routes soon to be much quickened.

Those sanguine prophets who predict the reunion of our race on both sides of the Atlantic can at least aver that in view of the union of Scotland and England, the element of time required to traverse distances to and from the capital is no obstacle, since the most distant points of the new empire, Britain in the east and British Columbia and California in the west, would be reached in less than one-third the time required to travel from the north of Scotland to London at the time of the union. Besides, the telegraph to-day binds the parts together, keeping all citizens informed, and stirring their hearts simultaneously thousands of miles apart—Glasgow to London, 1755, twelve days; 1905, eight hours. Thus under the genius Steam, tamed and harnessed by Watt, the world shrinks into a neighborhood, giving some countenance to the dreamers who may perchance be proclaiming a coming reality. We may continue, therefore, to indulge the hope of the coming "parliament of man, the federation of the world," or even the older and wider prophecy of Burns, that, "It's coming yet for a' that, when man to man the world o'er, shall brithers be for a' that."

There comes to mind that jewel we owe to Plato, which surely ranks as one of the most precious of all our treasures: "We should lure ourselves as with enchantments, for the hope is great and the reward is noble." So with this enchanting dream, better than most realities, even if it be all a dream. Let the dreamers therefore dream on. The world, minus enchanting dreams, would be commonplace indeed, and let us remember this dream is only dreamable because Watt's steam engine is a reality.

After his twelve days on horseback, Watt arrived in London, a stranger in a strange land, unknowing and unknown. But the fates had been kind for, burdened with neither wealth nor rank, this poor would-be skilled mechanic was to have a fair chance by beginning at the bottom among his fellows, the sternest yet finest of all schools to call forth and strengthen inherent qualities, and impel a poor young man to put forth his utmost effort when launched upon the sea of life, where he must either sink or swim, no bladders being in reserve for him.

Our young hero rose to the occasion and soon proved that, Cæsar-like, he could "stem the waves with heart of controversy." Thus the rude school of experience calls forth and strengthens the latent qualities of youth, implants others, and forms the indomitable man, fit to endure and overcome. Here, for the first time, alone in swarming London, not one relative, not one friend, not even an acquaintance, except the kind sea-captain, challenged by the cold world around to do or die, fate called to Watt as it calls to every man who has his own way to make: