His inspection of work was most rigid. The security of his structures was not a question of money, but of character. As human life depended upon their stability, not a point was neglected that could ensure it. Hence, in his selection of resident engineers and inspectors of works, he exercised the greatest possible precautions; and here his observation of character proved of essential value. Mr. Hughes says he never allowed any but his most experienced and confidential assistants to have anything to do with exploring the foundations of buildings he was about to erect. His scrutiny into the qualifications of those employed about such structures extended to the subordinate overseers, and even to the workmen, insomuch that men whose general habits had before passed unnoticed, and whose characters had never been inquired into, did not escape his observation when set to work in operations connected with foundations.*[11] If he detected a man who gave evidences of unsteadiness, inaccuracy, or carelessness, he would reprimand the overseer for employing such a person, and order him to be removed to some other part of the undertaking where his negligence could do no harm. And thus it was that Telford put his own character, through those whom he employed, into the various buildings which he was employed to construct. But though Telford was comparatively indifferent about money, he was not without a proper regard for it, as a means of conferring benefits on others, and especially as a means of being independent. At the close of his life he had accumulated as much as, invested at interest, brought him in about 800L. a year, and enabled him to occupy the house in Abingdon Street in which he died. This was amply sufficient for his wants, and more than enough for his independence. It enabled him also to continue those secret acts of benevolence which constituted perhaps the most genuine pleasure of his life. It is one of the most delightful traits in this excellent man's career to find him so constantly occupied in works of spontaneous charity, in quarters so remote and unknown that it is impossible the slightest feeling of ostentation could have sullied the purity of the acts. Among the large mass of Telford's private letters which have been submitted to us, we find frequent reference to sums of money transmitted for the support of poor people in his native valley. At new year's time he regularly sent remittances of from 30L. to 50L., to be distributed by the kind Miss Malcolm of Burnfoot, and, after her death, by Mr. Little, the postmaster at Langholm; and the contributions thus so kindly made, did much to fend off the winter's cold, and surround with many small comforts those who most needed help, but were perhaps too modest to ask it.*[12]