"But what am I aiming at? Do I pretend to rank myself among the Davids, the Horaces, the Goldsmiths, the Lyttons, or with the hero of a hundred fights? Not so! My meaning is, as I advance to threescore years, to put upon simple record some of the events of a life which, though not altogether uneventful, has been that of a simple, unambitious man, a life which, though somewhat queer and picturesque, has not been marked by any deeds of a stirring or sensational character, though it may yet be worthy of record for the information of the coming generation. It contains incidents which may prove useful as lessons of what to do and what to avoid, and thus be regarded with some small amount of interest and profit.
"I was born in the obscure agricultural village of Chiddingly, in the Weald of Sussex, 14th July, 1813. My father, Richard Lower, was a schoolmaster of the old-fashioned middle-class of his profession. Without being what is called a scholar, he was a man of varied attainments. He had few associations except with farmers and tradesmen. There was in the somewhat extensive parish no resident squire or clergyman, and hence he became the factotum of the district. He was an excellent practical mathematician, and a land-surveyor of considerable note. He also held nearly every parochial office, made wills and agreements, and was an acknowledged authority in every local matter. Moreover, he was a capital self-taught draughtsman, and although his Latin was small, and Greek smaller still, he was one of the best English grammarians I ever knew. Besides this, he was no mean poet, and every local event was by him chronicled in rhyme, and printed in local newspapers. In his eightieth year he published a small volume entitled 'Stray leaves from an Old Tree.' Speaking without prejudice, I can fairly say that few men in his sphere of life lived more usefully and more unselfishly than he did. Yet, with all his acquirements, which filled his rustic neighbours with astonishment—though
' . . . . . still the wonder grew,
That one small head could carry all he knew,'—
