If you seek to improve your mind during these trying times, Ed Sutton at FirstLightWorks has an excellent diversion for you: a free downloadable sector and instruction sheet.
To get started, click here to visit the page at FirstLightWorks where you can download the plan for the sector and the instructions. Then you just have to print it out, cut it out, assemble it and take it for a spin.
Editor’s note: For the next several weeks, we will feature some of our favorite columns from “Honest Labour: The Charles H. Hayward” years, along with a few sentences about why these particular columns hit the mark.
This column from 1937 is one of my personal favorites because of the poem:
“Work apace, apace, apace, apace;
Honest labour bears a lovely face;”
Try saying it out loud as you work (be sure no one is watching) and you can feel the rhythm of mortising or sawing flow through the syllables. Aside from that, I am deeply aligned with Hayward’s admonition that we should commit ourselves completely to something. That is what was missing from my life when I was a young journalist. For me, writing has always been important, but it doesn’t have the dizzying depth of woodworking, which involves all the senses. Hand skill. Memory. Geometry. Once I committed to woodworking, my path became clear. Or, as Hayward put it: “For we have to take in all we can and give out all we can, if we are to make a success of anything.”
Top that, Master Yoda.
— Christopher Schwarz
Honest Labour
Honest labour bears a lovely face
From time to time we come across men in their middle or old age whose faces show the stamp of an experience which has bred in them much wisdom and kindliness, setting them apart somehow from the ordinary run of men. We enjoy talking to them; their company is stimulating even when they are not very ready of speech. There is something so real and sincere about them, and their opinions are so well founded. We find them among farm workers, fishermen, cabinetmakers, cobblers, among workers of all trades just as much as among professional men, and always they have the one thing in common—hardworking lives. One of the sweetest singers among the Elizabethan poets wrote:
“Work apace, apace, apace, apace; Honest labour bears a lovely face;”
Which perhaps puts its finger on their secret. And it is good, just now when holidays are over, to reflect a little on this matter of work.
***
Most of us have to work in order to live and, like sensible men, make the best of it. But it is only when we come across the man whom work has, as it were, seasoned like a piece of fine old wood that we begin to suspect that work may have more purpose in our lives than we give it credit for. Just as a man brings his own powers of hand and mind to bear upon the work he is doing, so does that work in turn influence him. It sets its mark upon him, in some cases even producing distinct, recognisable types—shepherd, stable boy, lawyer, doctor, we know how each can carry in face and bearing some reflection of his daily activities—but, whatever the work, it helps to mould the man. The more it demands of him, mentally or physically, the more it can do for him, toughening his fibre, strengthening his will, bringing out qualities which otherwise might have lain dormant all his life, fine qualities some of them, even rare qualities. Work can also twist and warp a man: it all depends, I think, upon our attitude towards it.
***
There are business men who optimistically placard their offices with such texts as: “There’s no fun like work,” but I would like to know how many of us believe them. Work is not fun. To call it fun is just one of those silly, superficial sayings which glance at a truth and then sheer away again. Work has its glorious moments, moments when we are working at the top of our form and thoroughly enjoying ourselves, but it also has its inevitable drudgery; the steady doing from day to day of a certain job, whether we like it or not, sometimes in the teeth of difficulty, sometimes in spite of our own inclination of the moment, simply doing it because it has to be done, as one of the necessities of existence. Herein lies its value, bracing us up in mind and body, bringing out qualities of patience and steadfastness which otherwise might be lacking. But we have tacitly to accept it and make an honest job of work if we are to reap the real good, the essential good, which is greater really than the weekly pay envelope.
***
Thomas Dekker, he wrote that “Honest labour bears a lovely face” knew what he was talking about, for he worked hard in order to live and was famous among his fellow poets and playwrights for his “right happy and copious industry.” The fact of the matter is that we are mainly unknown quantities, even to ourselves. We can only guess at our own powers. The full range and extent of them we simply do not know till ambition or necessity, through hard work, force us to develop them. Our minds and our wills are the very queerest things and need all the urge and all the stiffening they can get from the hard, unsentimental facts of existence before they will begin to show of what they are capable. Work brings a man to maturity, jostling him up against his fellow men in competition, sharpening his wits, developing his skill, whether in the handling of men or affairs or the handling of a tool, at the very least into the regular habit of industry. Work is not really the enemy which, when we are in holiday mood or suffering from illness or fatigue, it may sometimes appear. It is another of the instruments of our education to life, and often the sterner it is the more it brings out the worth of a man.
***
That is why men, who cannot from the nature of their work employ their energies as actively as they wish, are wise when they use part of their leisure in the work of their choice. We call it a hobby then, but many a man who has drifted casually into a hobby has found in it a lifework. In this, at least, he is his own master, and he may become a master in the highest sense, of a craft, of a science, or an art, if he gives himself wholeheartedly to it. That is the difficulty with most of us: we don’t give ourselves out enough. We are always holding back, making excuses when we come to the difficult bits for not being quite as thorough as we should. There is always a technique to be learnt, and pains and patience are needed to master it. Every step of the way cannot be equally interesting. When mankind tried to eliminate drudgery it invented machines, and brought boredom into the lives of the millions of men who have to do the little routine jobs in attendance on them while the machines do the real work. And boredom is worse by a long way, for it simply stifles us. Drudgery as a means to an end, and that the perfecting of a job, has to have its place, but if we really set our hearts on success we shall not grudge one moment of it.
***
So to all those of our readers who, as amateurs, are planning to carry on with their woodwork this winter, we would say: see that every job is as good and as thorough as you can make it from start to finish. Don’t stint your pains and don’t miss any opportunity, through careful study of our pages and by any other means within your power, of learning all you can about the elements of woodwork as well as about advanced processes. Any miscellaneous knowledge about timber, tools, furniture, whatever it is, that you gather by the way, will never come amiss. For we have to take in all we can and give out all we can, if we are to make a success of anything. And that applies to things far greater than woodwork; even to life itself, I think.
After four years of honest labor, I am happy to announce you can place a pre-publication order for our newest book: “Honest Labour: The Charles H. Hayward Years, 1936-1966.” This massive book (474 pages) compiles Hayward’s best columns about the craft during his tenure as editor of The Woodworker magazine in the United Kingdom.
The book is $34 and can be ordered here from our store.
Hayward’s columns cover an enormous swath of woodworking philosophy, from discussions of our insecurities about our skills to the regenerative power of time at the bench. Hayward writes from a unique perspective: He was a traditionally trained woodworker, World War I veteran, professional woodworker, draughtsman, photographer, writer and editor. He steered The Woodworker through World War II (without missing an issue) and was a comforting voice for woodworkers through the most tumultuous portion of the 20th century.
We’ve taken his best columns during the 30 years he was the editor and reprinted them in “Honest Labour” for you to enjoy and think about. Each column occupies a single spread in the book – just open the book to any page and you will find a complete column. And each is illustrated with drawings from that particular year of The Woodworker – many of the drawings from Hayward’s own hand.
“Honest Labour” is the fifth and final book in The Woodworker series, which was a multi-year, multinational project to preserve the hand tool knowledge that almost disappeared in the 20th century. “Honest Labour” is the same trim size as the other Woodworker books in the series, printed on the same paper and features the same tough binding. The only difference is the cotton cover cloth. We chose a deep scarlet instead of the green to differentiate this volume from the others.
The book is currently at the printer and should ship in early May 2020. We hope our retailers will carry this book, though we have no control (obviously) over their stock choices.
In the coming weeks we’ll publish an excerpt for those of you who are on the fence or unsure this book is worth your time and effort.
— Christopher Schwarz
P.S. I know we have been releasing a slew of stuff this week – pinch rods, linocut prints from “Good Work” and now this book. It was completely unplanned and is what happens when you run a publishing company with the “it’s done when it’s done philosophy.” Sometimes that means you have nothing. Sometimes it means you have too much.
You can now order hand printed linocuts of the gorgeous images that Molly Brown made for Christopher Williams’ new book “Good Work: The Chairmaking Life of John Brown.”
Molly, one of John Brown’s daughters, is offering limited editions of the 12 prints featured in the book. She is currently making the prints. Ordering will end May 15, 2020, and the prints will ship in June. Lost Art Press is offering these prints to the U.S. market. Customers in the U.K. and Europe can order the prints from her website.
All the prints are made from hand-carved plates that are inked and then printed by hand on Japon Simili paper using an Albion press in her workshop in Wales.
You can place an order here through our store. Shipping is a flat $8, no matter how many prints you order. (Order one print and the shipping is $8. Order 10 prints and the shipping is $8 total.)
Here are details on each of the prints that are available.
Cardigan Chair 12.5” x 9”, edition of 75
This chair form was the earliest one John Brown made after seeing an antique chair in an antique shop in Lampeter. It also is the chair made famous in the book “Welsh Stick Chairs.” This print is shown on the rear of the dust jacket of “Good Work.”
Primitive Armchair 12.5” x 9”, edition of 75
This chair is on the front cover and dust jacket of “Good Work” and was featured many times in John Brown’s column in Good Woodworking magazine. For many chairmakers, this chair form launched their love affair with Welsh stick chairs.
Chris Williams’ Chair 12.5” x 9”, edition of 75
A square-on elevation view of one of Chris Williams’ chairs, which is shown in Chapter 3 of “Good Work” to illustrate the different parts of a primitive Welsh stick chair.
Sentinel Chair 12.5” x 9”, edition of 50
John Brown and Chris Williams often mused that a monument to Welsh stick chairs should be built at the head of the Severn Bridge, where you enter Wales from the south or west of England. Molly created this scene for the linocut, which shows the bridge and sentinel chair in the distance.
Wales Map 12.5” x 9”, edition of 50
To orient the reader, Molly created this map of Wales to show it in relation to England, Scotland and Ireland. The map serves as the opening image to Chapter 2 of “Good Work.”
Adze 5” x 5”, edition of 75
A linocut of the adze that Matty Sears made for his father, John Brown. The image punctuates Chapter 9 of “Good Work,” the book’s chapter on John Brown’s toolkit.
Spokeshave 5” x 5”, edition of 75
A linocut of John Brown’s favorite spokeshave, the Stanley No. 53. This image graces the Preface of “Good Work,” which was written by Nick Gibbs.
Brace and Bit 5” x 5”, edition of 75
John Brown kept a rack of braces in his shop. Each held a different bit, and the braces were lined up in the order he needed them in construction of a chair. This image is used on the Table of Contents for “Good Work.”
Carningli 5” x 5”, edition of 75
The mountain that John Brown lived in the shadow of at Pantry Fields. His ashes were scattered there after his death. This image opens Chapter 3 of “Good Work.”
Eyeplug 5” x 5”, edition of 75
This image, which opens Chapter 5, requires some explanation. It is a drawing of a wooden plug inserted into the door of John Brown’s workshop at Pantry Fields. When a visitor drove up, John Brown would remove the plug to see who was coming and decide whether to answer the door.
Ty Canol 5” x 5”, edition of 75
The Ty Canol woods are a magical place, and the colors there inspired John Brown to create his green “Spirit of Wales” finish.
Mechanic’s Vice 5” x 5”, edition of 75
John Brown pioneered using a mechanic’s vise for chairmaking, eliminating the need for a shaving horse. This image opens Chapter 4 of “Good Work.”
Our newest tool, the Crucible Pinch Rods, are now available for sale in our store. The price is $48.
We have been quietly selling these in the store for the last month in an effort to ramp up production and build up inventory before mentioning them here on the blog.
Pinch rods are our favorite way to check an assembled carcase for square. They also help you square up any out-of-square box, and they can be used for transferring measurements from one place to another.
Yes, we know that you can make your pinch rods from two sticks plus blue tape or a squeeze clamp. (You can also make a chisel from a screwdriver.) We decided we wanted to make something nicer.
Our pinch rods are based on an antique example we saw at Roy Underhill’s shop more than a decade ago. After seeing those, I immediately built steel versions for myself. But I always thought it would be nice to have a tool that didn’t look like it was scavenged from home center parts (which mine was).
Our pinch rods are made in Kentucky from brass and feature a custom-milled thumbscrew. The pinch rods come with two No. 6 screws for securing the hardware to the wood, which you supply.
The thumbscrew applies pressure in a concentrated point when you cinch it down. This makes a small indent in the wood, locking the setting, even if you drop the tool to the floor. (We experimented with versions with pressure plates. They didn’t dent the wood but they would easily lose their setting.) We are still using our first pair of sticks from the pinch rods I made 10 years ago with absolutely no problems. But if the wood ever becomes too chewed up in about 100 years, someone can easily replace it.