brothers next made figures in clay. Pope's Homer lay on his father's
window. The boys were so delighted with it, that they made thousands of
models--one taking the Greeks, and the other the Trojans. An odd volume
of Gibbon gave an account of the Coliseum. After the family were in bed,
the brothers made a model of the Coliseum, and filled it with fighting
gladiators. As the boys grew up, they were sent to their usual outdoor
work, following the plough and doing the usual agricultural labour; but
still adhering to their modelling at leisure hours. At Christmas-time,
Lough was very much in demand. Everybody wanted him to make models in
pastry for Christmas pies,--the neighbouring farmers especially, "It was
capital practice," he afterwards said.

At length Lough went from Newcastle to London, to push his way in the
world of art. He obtained a passage in a collier, the skipper of which
he knew. When he reached London, he slept on board the collier as long
as it remained in the Thames. He was so great a favourite with the men,
that they all urged him to go back. He had no friends, no patronage, no
money; What could he do with everything against him? But, having already
gone so far, he determined to proceed. He would not go back--at least,
not yet. The men all wept when he took farewell of them. He was alone in
London; under the shadow of St. Paul's.

His next step was to take a lodging in an obscure first floor in
Burleigh Street, over a greengrocer's shop; and there he began to model
his grand statue of Milo. He had to take the roof off to let Milo's head
out. There Haydon found him, and was delighted with his genius. "I
went," he says, "to young Lough, the sculptor, who has just burst out,
and has produced a great effect. His Milo is really the most
extraordinary thing, considering all the circumstances, in modern
sculpture. It is another proof of the efficacy of inherent genius." [1]