in 



THE CIVIL ENGINEER AND ARCHITECTS JOURNAL. 



LJUNE, 



tiiid to be riplit. The matter is, indeed, one of great woijflit, and 

 mostly as it touclies the frood nime of those concerned ; for liovi- 

 can the standing of the ])rofession he ke]it up, if its memhers lie 

 open to the cliargc of ni^-re nioney-gruhbina:, and an utter care- 

 le-;sness of doing anvtliiug to kee]) up professional knowledge ? 

 The engineer has been tausrht by others, and as he cannot repay 

 tliosc wlio have taught him, he must for his share teacli others. 

 I5y huildiug the Eddystone Lighthouse, Smeaton laid the grmmd- 

 Mork of the greater lightliouse on the Bell-rock ; and Mr. .Man 

 Stevenson, following in the footsteps of his father, has outdone him 

 in his great work at Skerryvore. Had we not the first work, the 

 last would still he wanting ; but it is by storing up kiuiwledge, by 

 gathering little and little, that it grows until we can work out 

 those wonders which are the pride of all time. The slight tram- 

 way has, by the work of many hands, been brought to such a height 

 that it has become the strong arm of civilization. Time has been 

 overcome, and the furthest ends of the land brought, as it were, 

 within grasp. Why, however, do we talk of such things ? Why 

 do our great men take their seats at the meetings of tlie Institu- 

 tions — why have they anything to do with them, if they do not 

 acknowledge them to the full? 



The Institutiim of Civil Engineers sets out with the purpose of 

 communicating knowledge to its members, and of keeping a record 

 of every new work. Each member is pledged to write something, 

 and to give his mite to the common stock. This is an acknow- 

 ledgment of the principle, and it would be well if the members 

 of the Institution were, in their choice of officers, to bear this in 

 mind, and only name those of their brethren as president and vice- 

 presidents, who had given their fair share to professional learning. 

 This would be a right acknowledgment to those who, like Sir 

 John Rennie, George Rennie, Sir John Macneill, and Alan Steven- 

 son, have done something, and would give a spur to others. 



So long as engineers look after money only, and do not care for 

 their good name, so long will they be without their right weight 

 with the public ; and so long will the government be able to tram- 

 ple on them, and give their emoluments to the military engineers. 

 It is not enough that they have raised great works — the evil-willed 

 will always say, those were done for money, and will he e\'er ready 

 to take away from the honour which would otherwise be awarded. 

 The thankfulness of the public is not so sure, that any means of 

 earning it can safely he left undone. How many gi-eat men are 

 there whose names are almost forgotten, and whose deeds are un- 

 known ! Very fevv, when they see a canal, think of the labours of 

 Brindley, or when they see a locomotive, think of how much we 

 owe to Trevithick. Those who were careless of their good names 

 in their lifetime, would have little right to complain of the for- 

 getfulness of those who came after them ; and our great men of 

 this day can look forward to nothing better. If they have tasted 

 the ill-will of those amongst whom they live, and who see them 

 and their works, they cannot reckon that they will fare better 

 hereafter, when they have done nothing to show that they care 

 for others as well as for themselves. 



Smeaton lives in his writings, as much as in his other works ; 

 and he has earned for himself a share in the works of those who 

 have followed in his path. Thus, Mr. Stevenson bears witness to 

 Smeaton's good works. Before beginning the Skerryvore light- 

 house, he carefully read what had been written by the great num 

 who went before him. Even to the shape or bearing of a stone, 

 or the fitting of a joint, Smeaton had carefully put down what he 

 had done, and Mr. Stevenson was alile to come to a sound judg- 

 ment as to what he himself thought of doing. The knowledge of 

 a hundred years was at once brought to bear, and the engineer has 

 outdone the works of his great master. 



Skerryvore will withstand for hundreds of years the storms 

 and blasts which burst upon it, and those who look at it will see, 

 with wonder, its strength and its bulk, and acknowledge its 

 builder has done his work. A rock of stone is raised upon the 

 crags of Skerryvore, hut the even seams hide all the work within : 

 each layer buries from sight the cunning handiwork beneath it. The 

 very finish stands as it were in witness against the hardihood of the 

 builder ; and there is nothing scarcely to show his skill, — nothing to 

 show the care, the sweat, the peril spent in putting stone on stone, 

 among threatening waves and sweeping winds, which shook the 

 narrow dwelling of the workmen, ready to dash them into the 

 troubled sea which yawned beneath them. There is greater hero- 

 ism in fighting against such risks, than in shedding blood in every 

 field of Scinde, or in warring against the hold highlanders of C'ahul. 

 Nor can the sailor even claim the perils of the ocean for himself; 

 hut the engineer shares them with him. Great as are the risks 

 which our seamen have to meet, they are not greater than Mr. 

 Stevenson and his workmen underwent on the rock of Skerryvore. 



The first shelter they raised was wrecked in a winter's storm, and 

 tliey dwelt for months in a barrack upon the rock, which thev 

 could not but believe was threatened with the same end. Cranes, 

 windlasses, forges, aiul anvils, were tossed about the rock by the 

 storm, as freely as ])ebbles, dashing timbers to pieces, and helping 

 to tear away the works which were laid down. No tool couhl be 

 left for a day without being lashed to ring-bolts, and even these 

 were sometimes snajiped oif. The surf dashed in sheets against Mr. 

 Stevenson's window, fifty feet above the sea ; and (uie night, he 

 tells us the barrai-k reeled so with the shock of the waters, that all 

 the men leaped from their hammocks with a fearful wail, believing 

 that their iloom was come, and that they should be swept into the 

 seething waters. Here were they sometimes laid u]) for days, 

 unable to stand upon the sli])pery rock, or to face the sweeping 

 storm ; and lying in their hammocks day and night, for shelter 

 against the hitter cold. Sometimes they were left almost without 

 food, for the steamer could not always kee]) the sea ; and (uice 

 their stock was brought down to the wants of one day only. At 

 all times it was hard to land, or to get the stones out of the 

 lighters ; ami often they were hauled back by the steamer after 

 snapping every warp. The rock was as smooth as glass, and so 

 narrow that the workmen had hardly room to work. In blasting 

 for the foundations, there was no shelter uiuler which the men 

 could lie down; so that Mr. Stevenson had to cover the rock with 

 matting when blasting was going on. On this spot, thev worked 

 under the broiling sun while daylight lasted, snatching oidy hasty 

 meals ; and their nights they spent, the first year, in an uneasy 

 ship, which often made them sea-sick ; and afterwards in the bar- 

 rack, whence the storm might have in one moment hurled them 

 from sleep to death. 



The few words which Mr. Stevenson gives to these risks he and 

 his fellow-workmen underwent, have all the charm of romance, 

 and may well he put side by side with any tale of the sea. They 

 are most pleasing, however, as a record of true courage, success- 

 fully exerted in a useful undertaking. Had we not this record, 

 we should know hut little of what Mr. Stevenson has done, or how 

 to rate him at his true worth ; indeed, half of his merit would he 

 lost, for the mere workmanship is the least which he can boast of; 

 and others could match him even in that. The skill, the foresight, 

 the battle with the hardships of every kind, which beset this un- 

 dertaking, tasked his powers to the utmost ; but he answered to 

 the call. 



Professional gallantry in meeting danger is, we are happy to say, 

 far from rare. The engineer is ever ready to share with the work- 

 men in every work of risk, and there are few great works which 

 have not some tale of gallantry to tell. The lighthouses of the 

 Eddystone, the Bell-rock, and Skerryvore, were beset with peril ; 

 in the tunnels under the Thames, Trevithick, Sir Mark Brunei, 

 and Mr. Gravatt, risked themselves; and daily, wherever a new 

 locomotive is tried, a new boiler is set up, a new mine opened, or 

 a new engine built, some engineer puts his life at stake. Courage 

 is not the virtue of a blue coat, or of a red one: the medical man 

 who meets typhus in the abodes of the poor, is a greater hero than 

 he who boards another's bulwarks, or who storms a breach ; be- 

 cause he has no hope of glory or advancement, and a greater 

 chance of danger. 



The reader of Mr. Stevenson's hook is sure to be struck by the 

 thought of its value to engineers now and hereafter, but most to those 

 in our far settlements, who have no chance of going to Skerryvore, 

 or to the Eddystone ; and who, indeed, if they had, would see the 

 work — hut not how it has been done. Mr. Stevenson has been care- 

 ful fully to explain every step which he took, to account for his 

 failures, to give the reasons by which he was led, and to describe 

 every process, however common, or however trifling. He thought 

 that nothing belonging to his work was beneath him ; and as he 

 looked into everything, he was enabled even to make improvements 

 in many of the common operations. By recording wliat he did, he 

 enables others to do likewise, and to follow in his path; and )io one 

 thinks that his book is too long, — but rather, each wishes that it 

 were longer, though nothing is left out. Care in such works is 

 highly needful, and is most wanted where there are no bounds to 

 the outlay which may be made. By leaving out such dovetails 

 and ribbands as Smeaton and Thomas Stevenson had in their lower 

 layers, Mr. Stevenson sa\'ed above four thousand pounds in the 

 cost of dressing the granite, and without any loss of strength or 

 safety. By getting everything ready before-hand, he had no loss 

 of time in running up his building on the rock, but had every stone 

 dressed, so that it was right to the eighth of an inch; and the whole 

 building is as well finished as if it were raised upon the main land, 

 with every help at hand, — whereas, there was hardly room on the 

 rock for blasting, no mooring ground, no pier, no quay, hardly room 



