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As we were reluctant to take back a man who had escaped from the Pasha's employment--excellent workman though he was--we declined to employ him. But I gave Affiffi a note of introduction to Boulton and Watt of Soho, Birmingham, and there he was employed. He afterwards passed into other firms, and having employed his skill in making some needle machinery at Redditch, he settled down there. He married a Warwickshire lass, and had a family--half Arab, half English-- and has now a thriving foundry and engineer workshop of his own. This little narrative shows that the Arab has still much of the wonderful energy and skill that once made the Moors masters of a large part of South-Western Europe.

We had many visitors at the foundry--from London, from the manufacturing districts, and from foreign countries. One day a young gentleman presented a letter from Michael Faraday, dated "Royal Institution, 29th May 1847," requesting me to pay him some attention and show him round the works. I did so with all my heart, and wrote to Mr. Faraday intimating how much pleasure it gave me to serve him in any respect. I cannot refrain from giving his answer. He said:

"MY DEAR SIR--That you should both show kindness to the bearer of my letter, and prove that you did so with pleasure by writing me a letter in return, was indeed more than I ought or could have expected; but it was very gratifying and pleasant to my mind. I only wish that the circumstances of my life were such as to enable me to take advantage of such goodwill on your part, and to be more in your company and conversation than is at present possible.

"I could imagine great pleasure from such a condition of things; but though our desires, and even our hopes at times spread out beforehand over a large extent, it is wonderful how, as the future becomes the present, the circumstances that surround us limit the sphere to which our real life is circumscribed If ever I come your way I hope to see your face; and the hope is pleasant, though the reality may never arrive.

"You tell me of the glorious work of your pile-driver, and it must be indeed a great pleasure to witness the result. Is it not Shakespeare who says, 'The pleasure we delight in physics pain'? In all your fatigue and labour you must have this pleasure in abundance, and a most delightful and healthy enjoyment it is. I shall rejoice to see some day a blow of the driver and a tap of the hammer.

"You speak of some experiments on hardening and tempering steel in which we can help you. I hope when you do come to town you will let us have the pleasure of doing so. Our apparatus, such as it is, shall be entirely at your service. I made, a long while ago, a few such experiments on steel wire, but could eliminate no distinct or peculiar results. You will know how to look at things, and at your hand I should expect much.

"Here we are just lecturing away, and I am too tired to attempt anything, much less to do anything just now; but the goodwill of such men as you is a great stimulus, and will, I trust even with me, produce something else praiseworthy.

Ever, my dear Nasmyth, yours most truly, M. FARADAY."

CHAPTER 16. Nuremberg--St. Petersburg--Dannemora.

In the autumn of 1842 I had occasion to make a journey to Nuremberg in company with my partner Mr. Gaskell. We had been invited to a conference with the directors of the Nuremberg and Munich Railroad as to the supply of locomotives for working their line. As this was rather an important and extensive transaction, we thought it better not to trust to correspondence, but to see the directors on the spot. We found that there were several riskful conditions attached to the proposed contract, which we considered it imprudent to agree to. We had afterwards good reason to feel satisfied that we had not yielded to the very tempting commercial blandishments that were offered to us, but that we refrained from undertaking an order that required so many important modifications.

Nevertheless, I was exceedingly delighted with the appearance of the city of Nuremberg. It carries one back to the mediaeval times! The architecture, even of the ordinary houses, is excellent. St. Lawrence, St. Sebald's, and the Frauenkirche, are splendid specimens of Gothic design. The city is surrounded by old walls and turrets, by ramparts and bastions, enclosed by a ditch faced with masonry. Very few cities have so well escaped the storm of war and sieges in the Middle Ages, and even in modern times. Everything has been carefully preserved, and many of the best houses are still inhabited by the families whose forefathers originally constructed them. But "progress" is beginning to affect Nuremberg. It is the centre of railways; buildings are extending in all directions; tram-cars are running in the streets; and before long, I fear, the ditch will be filled up, the surrounding picturesque walls and towers demolished, and the city thrown open to the surrounding country.

I visited the house of Albert Durer, one of the greatest artists who ever lived. He was a man of universal genius--a painter, sculptor, engraver, mathematician, and engineer. He was to Germany what Leonardo da Vinci was to Italy. His house is wonderfully preserved. You see his entrance hall, his exhibition room, his bedroom, his studio, and the opening into which his wife--that veritable Xantippe --thrust the food that was to sustain him during his solitary hours of labour. I saw his grave, too, in the old churchyard beyond the Thiergarten gate. I saw the bronze plate commemorating the day of his death. "Emigravit 8 idus Aprilis 1528." "Emigravit" only, for the true artist never dies. Hans Sachs's grave is there too--the great Reformation poet of Luther's time.

Adam Krafft must have been a great sculptor, though his name is little known out of Nuremberg. Perhaps his finest work is in St. Lawrence Cathedral--the Sacramentshauslein, or the repository for the sacred wafer--a graceful tapering stone spire of florid Gothic open work, more than sixty feet high, which stands at the opening of the right transept. Its construction and decoration occupied the sculptor and his two apprentices no less than five years; and all that he received for his hard labour and skilful work was 770 gulden, or about #80 sterling. No wonder that he died in the deepest distress. St. Sebald's and the Frauenkirche also contain numerous specimens of his admirable work.

In the course of the following year (1843) it was necessary for me to make a journey to St. Petersburg. My object was to endeavour to obtain an order for a portion of the locomotives required for working the line between that city and Moscow. The railway had been constructed under the engineership of Major Whistler, father of the well-known artist; and it was shortly about to be opened. It appeared that the Emperor Nicholas was desirous of securing a home supply of locomotives, and that, like a wise monarch, he wished to employ his own subjects rather than foreigners in producing them. No one could object to this.

The English locomotive manufacturers were not aware of the Emperor's intention. When I arrived in the city I expected an order for locomotives. The representatives of the principal English firms were there like myself; they, too, expected a share of the order. It so happened that at the table d'hote dinner I sat near a very intelligent American, with whom I soon became intimate. He told me that he was very well acquainted with Major Whistler, and offered to introduce me to him. By all means! There is no thing like friendly feelings in matters of business.

The Major gave me a frank and cordial reception, and informed me of the position of affairs. The Emperor, he said, was desirous of training a class of Russian mechanics to supply not only the locomotives but to keep them constantly in repair. He could not solely depend upon foreign artisans for the latter purpose. The locomotives must be made in Russia. The Emperor had given up the extensive premises of the Imperial China Manufactory, which were to be devoted to the manufacture of engines.

The Major appointed Messrs. Eastwick, Harrison, and Wynants, to supply the entire mechanical plant of the railway. I saw that it would be of no use to apply for any order for locomotives; but I offered to do all that I could to supply the necessary details. In the course of a few days I was introduced to Joseph Harrison, the chief mechanic of the firm; and I then entered into a friendship which proved long and lasting. He gave me a large order for boilers, and for detail parts of the Moscow engines--all of which helped him forward in the completion of the locomotives. We also supplied many of our special machine tools, without which engines could not then be very satisfactorily made or kept in repair. In this way I was in all respects highly remunerated for my journey.

The enjoyment of my visit to St. Petersburg was much enhanced by frequent visits to my much valued friend General Alexander Wilson. He was a native of Edinburgh, and delighted to enjoy cracks with me upon subjects of mutual interest. His sister, who kept house for him, joined in our conversation. She had been married to the Emperor Paul's physician, who was also a Scotsman, and was able to narrate many terrible events in relation to Russian Court affairs. The General had worked his way upwards, like the rest of us. During the principal part of his life he had superintended the great mechanical establishments at Alexandrosky and Colpenha, where about 3000 operatives were employed. These establishments were originally founded by the Empress Catherine for the purpose of creating a native manufacturing population capable of carrying on textile and mechanical works of all kinds. The sail-cloth for the Russian navy was manufactured at Alexandrosky by excellent machinery. Cotton fabrics were also manufactured, as well as playing cards, which were a Crown monopoly. The great establishment at Colpenha consisted of a foundry, a machine manufactory, and a mint-- where the copper money of the empire was coined. General Wilson was the directing chief officer of all these establishments.

Through him I had the happiness of being introduced to General Greg, son of the great admiral who shed such honour on the Russian flag during the reign of the Empress Catherine. He was then well advanced in years, but full of keen intelligence and devoted to astronomical pursuits. He was in a great measure the founder of the Imperial Observatory at Pulkowa, situated on an appropriate eminence about eight miles from St. Petersburg. The observatory was furnished under his directions with the most magnificent astronomical instruments. I had the honour to be introduced by him to the elder Struve, whose astronomical labours procured him a well-earned reputation throughout Europe. I had the rare happiness of spending some nights with Struve, when he showed me the wonderful capabilities of his fine instruments. The observatory is quite imperial in its arrangement and management, and was supported in the most liberal manner by the Emperor Nicholas. Indeed, it is a perfect example of what so noble an establishment should be.

Struve most kindly invited me to come whenever the state of the weather permitted him to show forth the wonderful perfection of his instruments,--a rare chance, which I seized every opportunity of enjoying. It was quite a picture to see the keen interest and intense enjoyment with which the profound astronomer would seat himself at his instrument and pick out some exquisite test objects, such as the double stars in Virgo, Cygnus, or Ursa Major. The beautiful order and neatness with which the instruments were kept in their magnificent appropriate apartments, each having its appropriate observer proceeding quietly with his allotted special work, with nothing to break the silence but the "tick, tack!" of the sidereal clock--this was indeed a most impressive sight! And the kindly companionable manner of the great master of the establishment was in all respects in harmony with the astronomical work which he conducted in this great Temple of the Universe!

Through my friendship with General Wilson I was enabled to extend my acquaintance with many of my countrymen who had been long settled at St. Petersburg in connection with commercial affairs. I enjoyed their kind hospitality, and soon found myself quite at home amongst them. I remained in the city for about two months. During that time I was constantly about. The shops, the streets, the houses, the museums, were objects of great interest. The view of the magnificent buildings along the sides of the quay is very imposing. Looking from the front of the statue of Peter the Great you observe the long facade of the Admiralty, the column of Alexander, the Winter Palace, and other public buildings. The Neva flows in front of them in a massive volume of pure water. On an island opposite stands the citadel. The whole presents a coup d'oeil of unexampled architectural magnificence.

I was much interested by the shops and their signboards. The latter were fixed all over the fronts of the shops, and contained a delineation of the goods sold within. There was no necessity for reading. The pictorial portraits told their own tale. They were admirable specimens of what is called still-life pictures; not only as regards the drawing and colouring of each object, but with respect to the grouping, which was in most cases artistic and natural. Two reasons were given me for this style of artistic sign-painting: one was that many of the people could not read the written words defining the articles sold within; and the other was that the severe and long-continued frosts of the St. Petersburg winter rendered large shop windows impossible for the proper display of the goods. Hence the small shop-windows to keep out the cold, and the large painted signboards to display the articles sold inside.

I was also greatly pleased with the manner in which the Russians employ ivy in screening their windows during summer. Ivy is a beautiful plant, and is capable of forming a most elegant window-screen. Nothing can be more beautiful than to look through green leaves. Nearly every window of the ground flat of the houses in St. Petersburg is thus screened. The neat manner in which the ivy plants are trained over ornamental forms of cane is quite a study in its way. And though the ivy is very common, yet a common thing, being a thing of beauty, may be a "joy for ever." In the finer and most important mansions, the sides of the flight of wide steps that lead up to the reception rooms were beautifully decorated by oleander plants, growing in great vigour, with their fine flowers as fresh as if in a carefully-kept conservatory. Other plants of an ornamental kind were mixed with the oleander, but the latter appeared to be the favourite.* [footnote... While passing through Lubeck on my way out to St. Petersburg I was much struck with the taste for flower-plants displayed by the people of that old-world city. The inner side of the lower house windows were all beautifully decorated with flowers, which were evidently well cared for. Some of the windows were almost made up with flowers. Perhaps the long-continued winter of these parts has caused the people to study and practise within-door culture with such marked success. It is a most elegant pursuit, and should be cultivated everywhere. It is thoroughly in character with the exquisite cleanliness and tidiness of the houses at Lubeck. ...]