though he himself had been to blame for their miscalculations or
over-sanguine hopes. Still, it is a good thing to put one's heart
in one's work, and so much Thomas Telford certainly did.

About this time, too, the rising young mason began to feel that he
must get a little more accurate scientific knowledge. The period
for general study had now passed by, and the period for special
trade reading had set in. This was well. A lad cannot do better
than lay a good foundation of general knowledge and general
literature during the period when he is engaged in forming his
mind: a young man once fairly launched in life may safely confine
himself for a time to the studies that bear directly upon his own
special chosen subject. The thing that Telford began closely to
investigate was--lime. Now, lime makes mortar; and without lime,
accordingly, you can have no mason. But to know anything really
about lime, Telford found he must read some chemistry; and to know
anything really about chemistry he must work at it hard and
unremittingly. A strict attention to one's own business, understood
in this very broad and liberal manner, is certainly no bad thing for
any struggling handicraftsman, whatever his trade or profession may
happen to be.

In 1786, when Telford was nearly thirty, a piece of unexpected good
luck fell to his lot. And yet it was not so much good luck as due
recognition of his sterling qualities by a wealthy and appreciative
person. Long before, while he was still in Eskdale, one Mr.
Pulteney, a man of social importance, who had a large house in the
bleak northern valley, had asked his advice about the repairs of
his own mansion. We may be sure that Telford did his work on that
occasion carefully and well; for now, when Mr. Pulteney wished to