Coming now to Great Britain, we are able to select from the records of history and biography illustrations for our purpose which represent pretty nearly all the varieties of English life. Practical philanthropy all men will allow to be one of the most prominent and honorable features of the national character, and to this shoemakers have contributed a good share. Our readers will remember the good work done by Drs. Carey and Morrison, the pioneer missionaries to India and China, and noble old John Pounds, one of the founders of ragged schools in this country. Two examples, in a different field, may be given here. One can easily understand how shoemaking would pay better before the invention of machinery than it does now, yet it appears strange to us to read of men making anything like a fortune by so humble a craft. So it was, however, after a certain modest fashion; and shoemakers, like men whose fortune has been made on a larger scale, have shown themselves veritable philanthropists in the use they have made of their money. The two instances we refer to are wide apart as to time, but closely related as regards the benevolent spirit they exhibit. Holinshed has very properly thought it worth his while to chronicle the good deed of a benevolent old shoemaker who lived in Westminster in the reign of Edward VI. This true son and follower of Crispin bore the name of Richard Castell, but was still better known, in his own day, by the sobriquet, Ye Cocke of Westminster, not only “because he was so famous with the faculty of his hands,” but on account of his early rising; for every morning, all the year round, saw him sitting down to his work “at four of the clock.” His skill and diligence in the craft brought him in a considerable sum of money, which he invested in lands and tenements in the neighborhood of Westminster, yielding a yearly rental of £42—not at all a poor living for a retired shoemaker three hundred years ago. It appears that Castell greatly admired the generosity of his monarch, Edward VI., who had recently endowed Christ’s Hospital, and the shoemaker having no family to whom he could bequeath his property, and being blessed, moreover, with a wife as generously disposed as himself, resolved to leave his property to the endowment fund of this public charity. It is much more than probable that the fame of the kingly founder of the hospital has totally eclipsed that of his humble subject, and for this reason it seems right for us to find a place in our list of illustrious shoemakers for a worthy man whose industry and benevolence are bearing good fruit to this day, and who once, it may be, was not a little proud of the honorable nickname of Ye Cocke of Westminster.[98]

TIMOTHY BENNETT, THE HERO OF HAMPTON-WICK.

It would be hard to find a name more worthy of being enrolled in our list than that of the public-spirited and courageous shoemaker of Hampton-Wick in Surrey named Timothy Bennett,[99] who, early in the last century, undertook, at his own cost, to rescue a right of road from loss to the public. This road ran from Hampton-Wick to Kingston-upon-Thames through the well-known Bushy Park, belonging to the Crown. Bennett was grieved to see the right of way infringed by the Crown authorities, and to observe the consequent inconvenience to thousands of his neighbors. He determined, therefore, to go to law about the matter, and, if possible, put a stop to the high-handed and unjust proceedings of the “Ranger of the Park.” He went to a lawyer and inquired as to the probable chances of success in his project, and as to the cost, saying, “I have seven hundred pounds which I would be willing to bestow upon this attempt. It is all I have, and has been saved through a long course of honest industry.” Satisfied on both points, he resolved to carry out his plan. Lord Halifax was then Ranger of Bushy Park, and having heard of Bennett’s intentions, sent for him. “Who are you, sir,” demanded my lord, “that have the assurance to meddle in this affair?“ ”My name, my lord, is Timothy Bennett, shoemaker, of Hampton-Wick. I remember, an’t please your Lordship, when I was a young man, of seeing, while sitting at my work, the people cheerfully pass by to Kensington market; but now, my lord, they are forced to go round about, through a hot sandy road, ready to faint beneath their burdens, and I am unwilling“ (using a phrase he was very fond of) ”to leave the world worse than I found it. This, my lord, I humbly represent, is the reason of my conduct.“ ”Be gone! You are an impertinent fellow!” said the Ranger of Bushy Park. After thinking the matter over in a calmer mood, Lord Halifax saw the equity of the shoemaker’s claim, and the certainty of his own failure to justify his conduct, and gave up his opposition. The road was opened, and remains open to this day, and is used not only by those who pass on business between Hampton and Kingston, but by thousands of pleasure-seekers from the busy and smoke-laden metropolis, who run down by rail in the spring and summer to enjoy the sight of one of the finest avenues of chestnut-trees in the world, or to breathe the sweet country air, and rest beneath the refreshing shade of the trees of the park. The good people who make constant use of the road, which the worthy shoemaker has secured to them and their descendants forever, can hardly be ignorant of the story of Lord Halifax the Nobleman nonsuited by Timothy Bennett the Shoemaker; yet the stranger who goes down to the Park in May to see

will probably never have heard of this

Bennett died an old man in 1756, having had his wish, at least, to leave the world no worse than he found it. Assuredly many who have more fame have done less to merit it.