From the mines to the pulpit; or, Success hammered out of the rock

Preface

This volume is not intended to be the author's autobiography, since it is only fragmentary in its character; but more especially is it written for the encouragement of the unfortunate ones who, like himself, on account of poverty or the bad management of parents, or lack of judgment on their part, were deprived of an early education. The author believes that the greatest incentive for this class, which unfortunately is very large, is for them to know what others have done.

While the book gives a brief sketch of a young miner struggling for success, it also affords an insight into the great industry of mining, both in England and America, together with the many dangers incident to this hazardous calling. With the hope that many of the unfortunate may be encouraged and stimulated to loftier purposes and nobler deeds by reading these pages, this work is sent forth. 3

Preface

The dangers and hardships portrayed in this volume are equally applicable to the coal miners the world over, and to which must be added the terrible danger of explosion by gas, which has been the cause of thousands of deaths among this class. G. C.

Contents

Chapter Page

I. Early Life, 13

II. In the Tin Mines of Cornwall, - 28

Introduction

In the couplet,

" lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime,"

it will be seen that the emphasis must be on the words "can make" as the source, genius, and power to produce the man. The making is ours. Whatever else success may mean, it must include a mastery of self. To know one's weaknesses and possible strength is supremely important. Then, to be able to guide against natural inclinations, or acquired habits, or socalled hereditary tendencies, will mean, in a measure, the power to move effectually towards the desired goal.

Many a young man finds himself, at eighteen or twenty, in the midst of discouragements. He feels his deficiencies. He is at a loss to know what to do. Few there are who concern themselves with his situation. He looks about him in vain. No one is near to aid. He 7

Introduction is the outcome of circumstances over which he has no control. He is conscious now of the situation, yet in his heart is a desire to better his condition and his life for the future. How is it to be done? This is the burden of the present volume, not to give direction in so many words, but to inspire through the life struggles herein portrayed. If one can succeed, why not another? The writer of this book was without hope in the world. No ray of light for years revealed to him any dawn of better days. I knew him as a young man mining silver and gold in the mines of Colorado. He tells of his anxiety and toil for promotion. He tells of defeat as preliminary to final victory. He felt the call of a larger sphere.

Not all can be ministers; but the world is not limited to preachers. The outreach for advancement must be through a due appreciation of the fact that the real secret lies within.

Our brother does not write this volume as a means of self-praise, but because of his intense yearning to stimulate some who need

Introduction just this lesson of a real life. This book will seek to unfold, in the unfolding of a single life, the true secret of attainment. May its pages delight and quicken many a young life ; for, as Longfellow says:

All possibilities are in its hands,

No danger daunts it, and no foe withstands;

In its sublime audacity of faith,

"Be thou removed!" it to the mountain saith,

And with ambition's feet, secure and proud

Ascends the ladder leaning on the cloud.

A. L. T. EwerTo

Jacksonville, Iu,., November 26, 1902.

From the Mines to the Pulpit

Chapter I

When the rough battle of the day is done,

And evening's peace falls gently on the heart,

I bound away, across the noisy years,

Unto the utmost verge of memory's land,

Where earth and sky in dreamy distance meet,

And memory dim with dark oblivion joins ;

Where woke the first remembered sounds that fell

Upon the ear in childhood's early morn ;

And, wandering thence along the rolling years,

I see the shadow of my former sell

Gliding from childhood up to man's estate.

J. A. Garfield.

After forty years' battling with the world, ofttimes with the odds tremendously against me, having reached the point where I can look back upon many years of hard toil, now crowned with success, perhaps I am in a position and may assume the responsible task of giving a little inspiration and encouragement to the young people of to-day. I was born amidst the tin mines of Cornwall, England, on the 8th day of September, 1862. Redruth, the quaint old town of my birth and home 13 of my childhood, is situated on the northern coast of Cornwall, about three miles inland. My ancestors were of English descent, and, as far back as can be traced, have lived and died in their native land. As soon as I was old enough to discern things, I discovered there were three other children who had as much right in the home as myself ; two others came later, making six in all, four girls and two boys.

Our home was like the many other homes in the mining district. Not much expensive furniture nor many soft carpets were found in them, yet everything was kept scrupulously clean. One room set apart as a sitting-room, also served for the library, as it contained all the books owned by the family neatly arranged on the shelves or on the center-table. It was the delight of our dear mother to gather the children together and spend the long winter evenings in the cozy sitting-room; and even now, a generation later, I can fancy myself back in the little room, watching the fire as it burned in the grate, and listening to the wind as it used to blow a hurricane along the coast, lashing the sea to foam. My father was not often permitted to spend an evening with the family, his position as night foreman keeping him at the mine from six in the evening until seven the next morning. Thus the entire responsibility of looking after and entertaining the children after school hours fell upon mother.

Those days of childhood were certainly the happiest of my life. Being blessed with robust health, living amidst inspiring scenery, with a sufficient supply of food and clothing, if not the luxuries of life, I found happiness everywhere — in the garden, in the fields, in the woods, and by the sea. I loved to roam alone through the moors and woods and revel in the beauties of nature, and to wander down to the cliffs and sit for hours watching the vessels as they came and went with their precious cargoes. Even now it sends a vigorous thrill through my veins when I remember how we used to plunge into the strong embrace of the briny ocean and allow ourselves to be thrown about on the crest of the waves; and great was our disappointment when, because of the madness of the sea, as we used to call it, the wind would roll the billows mountain high, and we were deprived of the accustomed plunge.

A beautiful sight is old ocean when the garment of peace is spread on its surface and the silver-tipped waves roll lazily up the shore; but when the waves are lashed by the fury of the storm, and huge vessels are being tossed like feathers on the boiling surf, the sight is terrible. Many stanch vessels have met their doom on the rock-bound coast of Cornwall, and many brave sailors have yielded up their lives in the vain attempt to bring the ship to shore. Along the coast in the quiet graveyard the traveler reads the familiar epitaph, "Unknown," which marks the spot where lies the form of some heroic toiler of the sea. "God protect the sailors to-night !" is the prayer which comes from thousands of hearts when the roaring of the hurricane, mingled with the booming of the waves as they break upon the shore, reach the ear.

One of these awful storms, which sent many noble vessels and stout-hearted sailors to their doom, comes vividly to my mind. Above the roar and fury of the storm was heard the distant booming of a cannon, which was the signal of a vessel in distress. Hurriedly the people rushed to the beach. Again the boom of the cannon came out of the hurricane, which meant to those standing on the shore a dying cry for help.

"See ! there she goes !" cried the captain of the life-saving boat crew, as the fire from the cannon's mouth lighted up the black heavens and at the same time revealed the position of the doomed vessel.

"Man the life-boat !" cried a voice.

"Impossible !" answered the captain. "No boat can keep afloat in such a sea !"

The next flash from the cannon was nearer, showing that the vessel was slowly drifting to its doom. The inability of the people on the shore to assist added to the horribleness of the fate which now seemed certain for the crew. They could do nothing but pray, and watch the angry sea as in its fury like a toy it tossed the helpless vessel. The black hull, plainly visible from the shore, now rode the crest of the billows, the next instant sank into the trough of the sea. Soon it would be dashed to pieces on the cruel rocks, or lie, a stranded wreck, upon the beach. If dashed to pieces, the sailors would perish in the boiling surf; if stranded, all lives would be saved.

"They will be saved!" exclaimed the captain, as he saw the vessel, like a struggling demon, rise from the trough of the sea only a few leagues from shore, and being driven by the fury of the storm toward the beach. Old men wept like children. Shouts of joy were 2 plainly heard above the roar of the tempest, They had not long to wait, for, rising once more out of the sea, the vessel, mounting the summit of a huge wave, was suddenly, as if by the force of a thousand giants, hurled upon the beach, a stranded wreck, far from the reach of the maddened sea. Again shouts of joy were heard above the din of storm and crash of timbers, while willing hands tenderly cared for the rescued ones as they were lowered down the slippery sides of the stranded hull. It was a wonderful deliverance from a watery grave. But alas for the noble vessel! She lay on the beach like a thing of life wounded unto death. No more would she proudly plow the seas; never again receive the "Godspeed you/' when leaving the port, nor the "Welcome home/' when the stormy voyage was over.

Although only a boy, I shall never forget the feeling of sadness which overshadowed me as I viewed the wreck. The sea was calm, and looked as innocent as a mill-pond; the fishing smacks danced merrily upon its surface. It seemed impossible that only a few hours before it was lashing in its fury to a seething foam, and bidding defiance to the approach of man ; but such is the way of old ocean, and "in time of calm prepare for storm" has long since become a saying with seafaring men.

But what became of the wreck? Like all others thrown upon the shore, when no longer fit for the sea, it was sold to the highest bidder. In this case it went to a mining company, who used the massive timbers for mining purposes. Years after I came across some of these timbers down in the dark caverns of the mine. Again a feeling of sadness came over me when I remembered how these solid oak timbers used to ride proudly the waves, but were now consigned to a pit of eternal darkness. This incident is also a true picture of the many wrecked lives which once proudly sailed the sea of life bound for the port of success, but now stranded on the shores of defeat and death. Many noble vessels have been saved from destruction through the skill, tact, and heroic efforts of the mariner who, in times of calm, prepared for storm, while many have become stranded wrecks through willful neglect ; likewise, many lives have been saved from defeat and shame, while others have been wrecked for time and eternity.

These solemn lessons were early impressed upon our young hearts by our sainted mother, whose greatest aim was to train up her children in the fear of the Lord, and to lay in our young hearts the foundation of truth and virtue upon which we could build in future years. In this she was successful, for God permitted her to live to see her children become men and women, each striving to walk in the path of truth which she had so clearly pointed out.

My early school days did not greatly differ from those of other boys, save that I always had a desire to be ahead in everything, whether in the schoolroom or on the playground, a disposition which came wonderfully to my relief in after years. Everything went along nicely until one day I reached the dangerous "know-it-all" period, became tired of school life, and wanted to go to work.

Alas ! how many young lives are ruined on this fatal rock of "know-it-all" or "too-bigto-go-to-school!" Just as soon as a foundation for an education has been laid, a restless spirit takes hold of the boy, and, in many instances, in a temporary dislike for study, he closes the books, turns his back upon the school, perhaps never again to enter the halls of learning, only to realize, in after years, that it was the greatest mistake of his life.

Such is my bitter experience. I have often thought that my indulgent parents too readily yielded to my entreaties to give up school life and go to work. And is not this too often the case? How important it is that parents begin while their children are young to teach them concerning the tremendous responsibilities of this life and the great necessity of an education to meet them! Too often the boy is left to choose for himself ; and how can he choose wisely without the experience? I am satisfied that in my case it was a temporary dislike for school life and study; for after a few days of hard work I was sick at heart, and wished myself back again in the schoolroom ; but, having once taken the step, I stubbornly held my position, not willing to acknowledge defeat nor endure the ridicule of my companions which I knew would come should I return to school.

This action on my part greatly grieved my dear mother, who was anxious to give me the best education within her power, hoping that some day I might be fitted for the greater responsibilities of life. Already, like many other loving mothers, she had sacrificed in many ways to educate her children. Weeks wore on into months, and not much more was said about my returning to school. My wages, though small, went to help meet the expenses of the family, and soon became a fixed part of the income. Ten shillings a month, about two dollars and a half in United States money, was my first stipulated wages.

Thus I found myself, at the age of fourteen, a day laborer, having of my own free will taken a step which has ever since caused me regret. For hundreds of times have I realized, to my sorrow, the truth of the words of the sacred writer: "If the iron be blunt, and he do not whet the edge, then must he put to more strength; but wisdom is profitable to direct." I soon discovered this bluntness in my education, and early set about repairing the great wrong I had, by leaving school, inflicted on myself. This was done by attending night school and studying at home. Notwithstanding I made progress and saved myself from being wholly illiterate, I can never forgive myself for in youth taking the unwise step which deprived me of many valuable years of school, during which time I should have prepared for the stern realities of life. Should this book fall into the hands of a boy, or girl — for girls, too, need to be well trained to meet the demands of this competitive age — who is tired of school, and has formed a dislike for study, let me, after having passed through the bitter experience, plead with you to call a halt, and, for the sake of your future life, and also for the sake of those whom you shall be called to serve, remain in school, if such a thing is at all possible. Listen to those who know the world and its ways, and especially listen to one who made the great mistake, and now warns you out of the bitterness of his experience. It is a mistaken idea that you can pick up an education as you go along. An education can not be picked up; its must be hammered out, and youth is the time to do the hammering. If you doubt the statement, I think you will be convinced of its truth if you follow me to the end of this narrative.

My mother, being a devout Christian and a member of the Methodist Church, was careful to see that the rules of the Church respecting children were faithfully carried out, and very early in life each child was baptized and dedicated to God and his service. Hence the Church and Sunday-school are among my earliest recollections. The holy influences of these early years have never left me, not even in the darkest hours. Whenever I went astray a wonderful Power was brought to bear upon me, both inwardly and outwardly. God's Spirit was ever present to chide, and a faithful mother's prayers to plead. These influences were always successful.

At the age of nineteen I began to take a great interest in Church work. There was not much for young people to do in those days as compared with the present. No uniquely organized young people's societies embracing all the departments of Christian work were to be found. These came later. My first opportunity for active Christian work came about in a singular manner. About one mile east of my home is a little village known as Redruth Highway. The little, primitive Methodist chapel in this place, which for generations had sounded forth the praises of God, was about to close its doors. A band of young men, of which I was a member, had agreed to hold revival-meetings in the village chapel. Permission having been granted, we went to work in faith, believing that God would bless our efforts. Our leader was Samuel T. Jackson, a local preacher, who has since made his home in America, has been for many years a preacher in the Methodist Episcopal Church, and is at this writing a member of the Newark Conference, in New Jersey. Brother Jackson did the preaching, myself and others following with earnest exhortations and prayers. In a short time the entire village was aroused and a glorious revival was in progress. About seventy souls were converted and added to the Church. This was a great victory, not only for the cause of Christ and the village chapel, but for my own soul. I had long been debating the question in my mind as to whether or not I should preach the gospel, and had made it a subject of special prayer. The question was settled at this time. I determined to obey the Lord and preach the gospel should he call.

The "Revival Band," as we were called, was in demand, and other meeting were held, resulting in the conversion of many souls.

I will close this chapter with an incident which happened in our home. My only brother, James, was not a Christian, and it gave me no little uneasiness when I remembered that, like myself, he had been baptized and dedicated to God. One night, long after the family had retired, James came home, after having spent the evening with boon companions. He crept into bed, but, as I discovered a little later, not to sleep. He tossed to and fro, and seemed to be greatly disturbed about something. I was awake, but up to this time had not spoken to him. A little later I heard him sobbing, and, turning to him, I said : "James, what is the matter?" Imagine my surprise when he answered by asking me to pray for him. The next instant two forms were kneeling by the bedside and two voices could be heard in prayer. God was quick to answer our prayers. James, having yielded himself to God, accepted Christ as his Savior, was made happy in a Savior's pardoning love.

By this time the entire family was aroused, and there was a great rejoicing over James's conversion. Mother's joy knew no bounds; for, while James had not been a very wicked young man, he had caused her no little anxiety, and for many years had been the burden of her prayers. Many thought James would not continue in the new life so suddenly begun; but in this they were mistaken. Several years later we met in America, and talked over the midnight prayer-meeting which led him to Christ. This meeting was also our last meeting on earth. His health began to fail, and compelled him to return to his native land. He regained his strength, went to South Africa, and worked in the gold mines at Johannesburg. One day he was stricken with the fever peculiar to that country, and died in a few hours. Some day I hope, by the grace of God, to meet him again in a better world, and once more talk of the midnight prayer-meeting when God spoke peace to his soul.

I close this fragmentary sketch of my early life with the thought that, notwithstanding one's early life may have many serious mistakes, yet it is possible to accomplish much good, and each victory gained while young will serve to strengthen in later years.

Chapter II In The Tin Mines Of Cornwall

"Dark, dark, is the yawning chasm

That lies beneath his feet, Where day by day the miner

Toils for bread to eat; Dangers stand thick around him,

From morn until the night As he gropes through eternal darkness

Shut out from heaven's sunlight."

My first place of labor was in a crucible factory. The crucibles were used in the various assay offices in the process of testing the value of the ores takes from the numerous mines. It was not long until I had a desire to go down one of these mines. Having been born and reared among them, and my ancestors having been miners, it was not unnatural that I should be led in this direction. I had always been familiar with the groaning and thumping of the big engines as the water and ore were raised to the surface. I was also aware of some of the dangers incident to a miner's life. Often had I stood at the mouth of the shaft 28 and watched the miners as they tenderly handled the mangled, and sometimes lifeless, forms of their comrades who had been crushed in the mine below; for frequently men were crushed to death by falling rocks, dashed to pieces from falling hundreds of feet, or horribly mutilated by premature or delayed explosions. I knew it was not my parents' wish that I should work in the mine, so for a time I kept my desires to myself. One day, however, I asked my father to secure a place for me, as I knew it was in his power so to do. I also laid the matter before my mother. As I expected, she was bitterly opposed to my entering the mine, and used every effort to dissuade me from my purpose. Finally my parents very reluctantly gave their consent, hoping that a few days of actual experience would lead me to change my mind.

The Pednandrea Mine is situated near the town of Redruth, and it was in this mine that I received my first experience in mining. The mine was about one hundred and fifty fathoms, or nine hundred feet, deep. Early Monday morning found me dressed in a miner's suit, ready for the descent. I am sure I presented a very striking appearance, being short in stature and small for my age; yet I prided myself in possessing, what all miners have to a certain degree, grit and courage ; and I soon discovered that I needed both. The candle, which was to give me the much-needed light, was neatly rolled in a small lump of soft clay and securely fastened on the front of my hat, which was made of hard material for this purpose ; also to protect the head from falling stones or other articles. As is the custom, I was given over to the charge of an experienced miner. My father had chosen wisely in my case; had secured as my guardian one of the best men in the mine, William Terril, a man of sterling qualities, as was shown by his earnest and consistent Christian life. He was also rich in experience, having mined for many years, both in England and America.

All being ready, we drew near to the shaft. Shall I ever forget that morning? Never! The mode of descending was by ladders. The top of the first ladder raised its head about four or five feet above the surface, to give the miner a good hold before making the descent. A large group of men and boys had gathered around the mouth of the dark shaft, drinking in the glorious sunshine as it came streaming over the eastern hills. Finally, one by one they began to disappear down the black hole. I was standing behind William Terril, who had instructed me to follow him down the ladder, which I began to do as soon as his head was below the surface. At the bottom of the first ladder a short halt was made and a light procured. After receiving my first lesson in adjusting the candle on the front of my hat, we continued our descent. Down, down we went, using the utmost care, for one misstep would have hurled us into the yawning depths and to certain death.

I am frank to confess that fear crept into my young heart as we continued to go down into the bowels of the earth. The water was dripping from the slimy walls, which looked like the sides of a huge grave, into which we were descending. The sound of our feet reverberated through the dark caverns like the booming of distant cannons; the flickering lights of the men who had preceded us could be seen dancing in the thick darkness far below. The sensation produced by the gloomy surroundings, and the flickering lights so far below revealing the awful emptiness beneath one's feet and the terrible consequences awaiting even one misstep, was anything but pleasant, and was enough to make quake a stouter heart than mine. Once I stood still for a moment, and thought of retracing my steps, and forever renouncing mining as a calling. But my companions would have considered that cowardly; so, in spite of my fears, I continued to descend, It took about thirty minutes to work our way down the long shaft; and, winding through several crooked passages, we finally reached our place of labor. I began to breathe a little easier when we reached the resting-place and the terrible strain of the previous thirty minutes began to pass away.

The interior of a mine was not at all as I had pictured. I had imagined a deep hole in the ground with men digging out the rock wherever a chance could be found; but, instead, I disco^tred that the shaft was sunk on the vein, and at distances, varying in depth from fifty to one hundred feet, "levels/' or tunnels, were run out in both directions, following the vein. Also, at various distances in the levels intermediate shafts, called "winze/' were sunk, thus connecting with the level below, and at the same time dividing the vein into sections, called "blocks." The men were divided into groups, varying in numbers from two to ten, and sometimes more. Each group was given a certain block of the vein, which was worked until the ore was exhausted, or until it ceased to yield the ore in paying quantities. Large timbers were placed against the hanging walls for the safety and convenience of the miners. In like manner, the tracks were made by placing timbers across the gaping chasm made by excavating the ore, and laying rails upon them. These tracks are used for the purpose of bringing the ores from the farthermost workings of the mine to the main shaft, and thence it is hoisted to the surface.

Our place of labor was five hundred and forty feet below the surface, and about one thousand feet west of the main shaft. Here again my courage almost failed me as I beheld the ragged rocks hanging directly overhead, and once more I wished I had taken my parents' advice.

"What are you looking at?" said William Terril, as I stood in utter amazement looking at the threatening rocks, which seemed to me as if at any moment they might fall and grind us to powder.