Self Help by Samuel Smiles (desktop ebook reader txt) 📖

amidst flowers and music,

the rough veterans, all scarred and mutilated as they were, stood

up to thank their gentle countrywomen who had clothed and fed them,

and ministered to their wants during their time of sore distress.

In the hospitals at Scutari, too, many wounded and sick blessed the

kind English ladies who nursed them; and nothing can be finer than

the thought of the poor sufferers, unable to rest through pain,

blessing the shadow of Florence Nightingale as it fell upon their

pillow in the night watches.

 

The wreck of the Birkenhead off the coast of Africa on the 27th of

February, 1852, affords another memorable illustration of the

chivalrous spirit of common men acting in this nineteenth century,

of which any age might be proud. The vessel was steaming along the

African coast with 472 men and 166 women and children on board.

The men belonged to several regiments then serving at the Cape, and

consisted principally of recruits who had been only a short time in

the service. At two o’clock in the morning, while all were asleep

below, the ship struck with violence upon a hidden rock which

penetrated her bottom; and it was at once felt that she must go

down. The roll of the drums called the soldiers to arms on the

upper deck, and the men mustered as if on parade. The word was

passed to SAVE THE WOMEN AND CHILDREN; and the helpless creatures

were brought from below, mostly undressed, and handed silently into

the boats. When they had all left the ship’s side, the commander

of the vessel thoughtlessly called out, “All those that can swim,

jump overboard and make for the boats.” But Captain Wright, of the

91st Highlanders, said, “No! if you do that, THE BOATS WITH THE

WOMEN MUST BE SWAMPED;” and the brave men stood motionless. There

was no boat remaining, and no hope of safety; but not a heart

quailed; no one flinched from his duty in that trying moment.

“There was not a murmur nor a cry amongst them,” said Captain

Wright, a survivor, “until the vessel made her final plunge.” Down

went the ship, and down went the heroic band, firing a feu de joie

as they sank beneath the waves. Glory and honour to the gentle and

the brave! The examples of such men never die, but, like their

memories, are immortal.

 

There are many tests by which a gentleman may be known; but there

is one that never fails—How does he EXERCISE POWER over those

subordinate to him? How does he conduct himself towards women and

children? How does the officer treat his men, the employer his

servants, the master his pupils, and man in every station those who

are weaker than himself? The discretion, forbearance, and

kindliness, with which power in such cases is used, may indeed be

regarded as the crucial test of gentlemanly character. When La

Motte was one day passing through a crowd, he accidentally trod

upon the foot of a young fellow, who forthwith struck him on the

face: “Ah, sire,” said La Motte, “you will surely be sorry for

what you have done, when you know that I AM BLIND.” He who bullies

those who are not in a position to resist may be a snob, but cannot

be a gentleman. He who tyrannizes over the weak and helpless may

be a coward, but no true man. The tyrant, it has been said, is but

a slave turned inside out. Strength, and the consciousness of

strength, in a right-hearted man, imparts a nobleness to his

character; but he will be most careful how he uses it; for

 

“It is excellent

To have a giant’s strength; but it is tyrannous

To use it like a giant.”

 

Gentleness is indeed the best test of gentlemanliness. A

consideration for the feelings of others, for his inferiors and

dependants as well as his equals, and respect for their self-respect, will pervade the true gentleman’s whole conduct. He will

rather himself suffer a small injury, than by an uncharitable

construction of another’s behaviour, incur the risk of committing a

great wrong. He will be forbearant of the weaknesses, the

failings, and the errors, of those whose advantages in life have

not been equal to his own. He will be merciful even to his beast.

He will not boast of his wealth, or his strength, or his gifts. He

will not be puffed up by success, or unduly depressed by failure.

He will not obtrude his views on others, but speak his mind freely

when occasion calls for it. He will not confer favours with a

patronizing air. Sir Walter Scott once said of Lord Lothian, “He

is a man from whom one may receive a favour, and that’s saying a

great deal in these days.”

 

Lord Chatham has said that the gentleman is characterised by his

sacrifice of self and preference of others to himself in the little

daily occurrences of life. In illustration of this ruling spirit

of considerateness in a noble character, we may cite the anecdote

of the gallant Sir Ralph Abercromby, of whom it is related, that

when mortally wounded in the battle of Aboukir, he was carried in a

litter on board the ‘Foudroyant;’ and, to ease his pain, a

soldier’s blanket was placed under his head, from which he

experienced considerable relief. He asked what it was. “It’s only

a soldier’s blanket,” was the reply. “WHOSE blanket is it?” said

he, half lifting himself up. “Only one of the men’s.” “I wish to

know the name of the man whose blanket this is.” “It is Duncan

Roy’s, of the 42nd, Sir Ralph.” “Then see that Duncan Roy gets his

blanket this very night.” {37} Even to ease his dying agony the

general would not deprive the private soldier of his blanket for

one night. The incident is as good in its way as that of the dying

Sydney handing his cup of water to the private soldier on the field

of Zutphen.

 

The quaint old Fuller sums up in a few words the character of the

true gentleman and man of action in describing that of the great

admiral, Sir Francis Drake: “Chaste in his life, just in his

dealings, true of his word; merciful to those that were under him,

and hating nothing so much as idlenesse; in matters especially of

moment, he was never wont to rely on other men’s care, how trusty

or skilful soever they might seem to be, but, always contemning

danger, and refusing no toyl, he was wont himself to be one

(whoever was a second) at every turn, where courage, skill, or

industry, was to be employed.”

 

Footnotes:

 

{1} Napoleon III., ‘Life of Caesar.’

 

{2} Soult received but little education in his youth, and learnt

next to no geography until he became foreign minister of France,

when the study of this branch of knowledge is said to have given

him the greatest pleasure.—‘OEuvres, &c., d’Alexis de Tocqueville.

Par G. de Beaumont.’ Paris, 1861. I. 52

 

{3} ‘OEuvres et Correspondance inedite d’Alexis de Tocqueville.

Par Gustave de Beaumont.’ I. 398.

 

{4} “I have seen,” said he, “a hundred times in the course of my

life, a weak man exhibit genuine public virtue, because supported

by a wife who sustained hint in his course, not so much by advising

him to such and such acts, as by exercising a strengthening

influence over the manner in which duty or even ambition was to be

regarded. Much oftener, however, it must be confessed, have I seen

private and domestic life gradually transform a man to whom nature

had given generosity, disinterestedness, and even some capacity for

greatness, into an ambitious, mean-spirited, vulgar, and selfish

creature who, in matters relating to his country, ended by

considering them only in so far as they rendered his own particular

condition more comfortable and easy.”—‘OEuvres de Tocqueville.’

II. 349.

 

{5} Since the original publication of this book, the author has in

another work, ‘The Lives of Boulton and Watt,’ endeavoured to

portray in greater detail the character and achievements of these

two remarkable men.

 

{6} The following entry, which occurs in the account of monies

disbursed by the burgesses of Sheffield in 1573 [?] is supposed by

some to refer to the inventor of the stocking frame:- “Item gyven

to Willm-Lee, a poore scholler in Sheafield, towards the settyng

him to the Universitie of Chambrydge, and buying him bookes and

other furnyture [which money was afterwards returned] xiii iiii

[13s. 4d.].”—Hunter, ‘History of Hallamshire,’ 141.

 

{7} ‘History of the Framework Knitters.’

 

{8} There are, however, other and different accounts. One is to

the effect that Lee set about studying the contrivance of the

stocking-loom for the purpose of lessening the labour of a young

country-girl to whom he was attached, whose occupation was

knitting; another, that being married and poor, his wife was under

the necessity of contributing to their joint support by knitting;

and that Lee, while watching the motion of his wife’s fingers,

conceived the idea of imitating their movements by a machine. The

latter story seems to have been invented by Aaron Hill, Esq., in

his ‘Account of the Rise and Progress of the Beech Oil

manufacture,’ London, 1715; but his statement is altogether

unreliable. Thus he makes Lee to have been a Fellow of a college

at Oxford, from which he was expelled for marrying an innkeeper’s

daughter; whilst Lee neither studied at Oxford, nor married there,

nor was a Fellow of any college; and he concludes by alleging that

the result of his invention was to “make Lee and his family happy;”

whereas the invention brought him only a heritage of misery, and he

died abroad destitute.

 

{9} Blackner, ‘History of Nottingham.’ The author adds, “We have

information, handed down in direct succession from father to son,

that it was not till late in the seventeenth century that one man

could manage the working of a frame. The man who was considered

the workman employed a labourer, who stood behind the frame to work

the slur and pressing motions; but the application of traddles and

of the feet eventually rendered the labour unnecessary.”

 

{10} Palissy’s own words are:- “Le bois m’ayant failli, je fus

contraint brusler les estapes (etaies) qui soustenoyent les tailles

de mon jardin, lesquelles estant bruslees, je fus constraint

brusler les tables et plancher de la maison, afin de faire fondre

la seconde composition. J’estois en une telle angoisse que je ne

scaurois dire: car j’estois tout tari et deseche a cause du labeur

et de la chaleur du fourneau; il y avoit plus d’un mois que ma

chemise n’avoit seiche sur moy, encores pour me consoler on se

moquoit de moy, et mesme ceux qui me devoient secourir alloient

crier par la ville que je faisois brusler le plancher: et par tel

moyen l’on me faisoit perdre mon credit et m’estimoit-on estre fol.

Les autres disoient que je cherchois a faire la fausse monnoye, qui

estoit un mal qui me faisoit seicher sur les pieds; et m’en allois

par les rues tout baisse comme un homme honteux: … personne ne

me secouroit: Mais au contraire ils se mocquoyent de moy, en

disant: Il luy appartient bien de mourir de faim, par ce qu’il

delaisse son mestier. Toutes ces nouvelles venoyent a mes

aureilles quand je passois par la rue.” ‘OEuvres Completes de

Palissy. Paris, 1844;’ De l’Art de Terre, p. 315.

 

{11} “Toutes ces fautes m’ont cause un tel lasseur et tristesse

d’esprit, qu’auparavant que j’aye rendu mes emaux fusible a un

mesme degre de feu, j’ay cuide entrer jusques a la porte du

sepulchre: aussi en me travaillant a tels affaires je me suis

trouve l’espace de plus se dix ans si fort escoule en ma personne,

qu’il n’y avoit aucune forme ny apparence de bosse aux