paid, and sometimes the family were on the brink of want. Being now a tall lad of fourteen, William made an effort to get an employment which would bring in a few shillings a week. He considered himself fortunate in getting work as a mason's labourer at the building of the new bridge across the Tweed at Kelso—one of Rennie's handsome structures. When only a few days at this toilsome employment, William suffered a dire misfortune. By the clumsy management of a companion in carrying a hand-barrow, a heavy stone fell on his leg, inflicting a deep wound, and throwing him off work for nearly three months. When the family were in the depths of penury, the father succeeded in getting an appointment at Percy Main Colliery, near South Shields, as steward of a farm belonging to the coal-owners. There was still the disadvantage of being absent from his family, but the pay regularly administered put him in comfort, and he had an opportunity of getting some employment for his eldest son.

The employment so secured was not much to speak of: it was only that of driving a coal-cart, but nothing better cast up, and was dutifully endured amidst a dissolute and contentious population, until, at the instance of the owners of the colliery, William, in 1804, was bound apprentice for seven years to Mr John Robinson, the engine-wright of the establishment. Such was the start in life of William Fairbairn as an engineer. At first, his wages were five, afterwards rising to twelve, shillings a week; but there was extra work paid for separately, by which his small wage was often doubled, and he was able to help his parents, who were struggling with a very limited income.

As we all know, there are two ways of pursuing an industrial occupation in youth. One is to do no more than what is immediately required, caring little for the future; the other is to endeavour, by every available means, to strike out a course of self-improvement, not only for the pleasure of doing so, but it may be in the hope of reaping some future advantage. William Fairbairn adopted the latter method of getting through his apprenticeship. He laid down for himself a programme of self-instruction, while most other lads about him spent all their leisure time in coarse and profitless amusements. His weekly programme is worth the attention of young men placed in similar circumstances. Every day had its assigned work—Monday evenings, the study of arithmetic and mensuration. Tuesday, reading history and poetry. Wednesday, recreation, reading novels and romances. Thursday, mathematics. Friday, Euclid, trigonometry. Saturday, recreation and sundries. Sunday, church, reading Milton, &c. These several exercises were facilitated by books procured from the North-Shields subscription library, for which his father bought for him a ticket. Besides going through a course of reading the best historical and other works, which widened his knowledge and cultivated his feelings, he in a period of three years went through a complete system of mensuration, and as much algebra as enabled him to solve an equation; also a course of trigonometry, navigation, and some other branches of science. At times he devised pieces of machinery, which taught him the necessity of arranging and concentrating his ideas in matters of mechanical ingenuity. Having a taste for music, he made a violin, on which he taught himself to play familiar Scotch airs, though never with any degree of brilliance. His mind leaned towards more solid acquirements. As a kind of promotion, he was removed from the workshop to take charge of the steam-engine and pumps. Now, he was more his own master, and had intervals of time at his disposal. No amount of leisure, however, diverted him from his course of self-culture. His companions spent not a little time and money in beer-drinking, which kept them in poverty, and effectually stood in the way of their advancement. One of his early contemporaries was happily superior to these debasing pursuits. This was George Stephenson, with whom he became acquainted. George had the charge of an engine at Willington Ballast Hill, only a mile or two off, and being recently married, was somewhat pinched in the means of livelihood. To enable him to earn a few shillings, Fairbairn frequently took charge of his engine, while he took a turn at heaving ballast out of the colliery vessels. It is interesting to hear of facts like this of two men who rose to eminence through self-culture and unrelaxing perseverance.

At the close of his apprenticeship, and now twenty-two years of age, William Fairbairn went to London in search of employment as a millwright or working engineer. At this time Rennie was engaged in building Waterloo Bridge, and offered work to William Fairbairn. But—and a sad 'but' it was—the Millwrights' Society, which assumed the right of determining who should be employed, would not allow work to be given to him; and for a time, along with a companion similarly situated, he underwent serious privations. Unless for succour from some hospitable relatives who gave him a dinner on Sunday, he would have been well-nigh starved. A brighter day at length dawned. A number of workmen had the fortitude to resist the monopoly of the Millwrights' Society, and banding together, set up a Society of free and independent labourers, under whose auspices Fairbairn got employment at a patent Ropery at Shadwell. Here and elsewhere he wrought as a journeyman two years in the metropolis, all the time realising good wages of from two to three pounds a week, and as formerly occupying his leisure hours mostly in reading. As he lived moderately, he saved some money, with which he hoped to push his way forward. Unluckily, he fell in with a crazy projector, who had devised a plan of delving land by machinery. The thing was ingenious, but not practicable. Induced to make a machine for the inventor, Fairbairn's small savings were swept away. He was more fortunate in his next order. It was to make a machine for chopping meat for sausages, for which he was promised thirty-three pounds by a pork-butcher. The machine, constructed with a fly-wheel and a double crank, with a dozen knives crossing each other, did its work admirably. The pork-butcher was delighted, and paid handsomely for the machine.

Put in pocket by this piece of business, Fairbairn proceeded to Dublin in quest of work, and got employment in constructing nail-making machinery. This lasted during a summer, and back he came to England, the voyage by packet to Liverpool occupying two days. A lucky thought directed him to try Manchester as a field of operations. Here he received employment from Mr Adam Parkinson, for whom he worked two years, and from his earnings was able to save twenty pounds, a sum which he destined to set him up in married life. For several years he had corresponded with Dorothy Mar, daughter of a farmer at Morpeth, and for whom he entertained an ardent affection. Fortune, as he imagined, being now propitious, marriage with Miss Mar could be discreetly contemplated, and the marriage took place June 16, 1816. The young pair commenced housekeeping in a very small and modest domicile at Manchester. William Fairbairn had still to make his way in the world, and blest with this good wife, set about doing it vigorously. For certain spheres of usefulness, Manchester offers better scope than even London. In partnership at first with Mr James Lillie, he began an independent career as a millwright, or in fact, a contractor for any large undertaking from a bridge to a spinning-factory. The two in setting up business had hardly any money, but they had brains, which had been pretty well exercised, and people were disposed to throw work in the way of what seemed to be two eager and clever young men. A large job executed for Mr Murray, a cotton-spinner, put them on their feet. Well-doing needs only a beginning. Almost immediately followed the works on a new cotton-mill for Mr John Kennedy, partner in the firm of Messrs M'Connel and Kennedy, then the largest spinners in the kingdom. The