hanic.[5]

One of the last works which Clement executed as a matter of pleasure,
was the building of an organ for his own use. It will be remembered
that when working as a slater at Great Ashby, he had made flutes and
clarinets, and now in his old age he determined to try his skill at
making an organ--in his opinion the king of musical instruments. The
building of it became his hobby, and his greatest delight was in
superintending its progress. It cost him about two thousand pounds in
labour alone, but he lived to finish it, and we have been informed that
it was pronounced a very excellent instrument.

Clement was a heavy-browed man, without any polish of manner or speech;
for to the last he continued to use his strong Westmoreland dialect.
He was not educated in a literary sense; for he read but little, and
could write with difficulty. He was eminently a mechanic, and had
achieved his exquisite skill by observation, experience, and
reflection. His head was a complete repertory of inventions, on which
he was constantly drawing for the improvement of mechanical practice.
Though he had never more than thirty workmen in his factory, they were
all of the first class; and the example which Clement set before them
of extreme carefulness and accuracy in execution rendered his shop one
of the best schools of its time for the training of thoroughly
accomplished mechanics. Mr. Clement died in 1844, in his sixty-fifth
year; after which his works were carried on by Mr. Wilkinson, one of
his nephews; and his planing machine still continues in useful work.

[1] On one occasion Galloway had a cast-iron roof made for his
workshop, so flat and so independent of ties that the wonder was that
it should have stood an hour. One day Peter Keir, an engineer much
employed by the government--a clever man, though some what
eccentric--was taken into the shop by Galloway to admire the new roof.
Keir, on glancing up at it, immediately exclaimed, "Come outside, and
let us speak about it there!" All that he could say to Galloway
respecting the unsoundness of its construction was of no avail. The
fact was that, however Keir might argue about its not being able to
stand, there it was actually standing, and that was enough for
Galloway. Keir went home, his mind filled with Galloway's most
unprincipled roof. "If that stands," said he to himself, "all that I
have been learning and doing for thirty years has been wrong." That
night he co