{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_14418/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_14418","id":"gutenberg_14418","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/14418","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Economics","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Saving and investment"],"text":"THRIFT.\n\n\n\nBY SAMUEL SMILES,\n\n\n\n\"Be thrifty, but not covetous; therefore give\nThy need, thine honour, and thy friend his due,\nNever was scraper brave man. Get to _live_,\nThen live, and use it; else it is not true\n   That thou hast gotten. Surely use alone\n   Make money not a contemptible stone.\"\n                              GEORGE HERBERT.\n\n\"To catch Dame Fortune's golden smile,\n   Assiduous wait upon her;\nAnd gather gear by ev'ry wile\n   That's justify'd by Honour:\nNot for to hide it in a hedge,\n   Not for a train attendant;\nBut for the glorious privilege\n   Of being Independent.\"\n                              ROBERT BURNS.\n\n_FIFTIETH THOUSAND_.\n\n\nLONDON: JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET. 1892.\n\nPrinted by Hazell, Watson, & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\n\nThis book is intended as a sequel to \"Self-Help,\" and \"Character.\" It\nmight, indeed, have appeared as an introduction to these volumes; for\nThrift is the basis of Self-Help, and the foundation of much that is\nexcellent in Character.\n\nThe author has already referred to the Use and Abuse of Money; but the\nlesson is worthy of being repeated and enforced. As he has already\nobserved,--Some of the finest qualities of human nature are intimately\nrelated to the right use of money; such as generosity, honesty, justice,\nand self-denial; as well as the practical virtues of economy and\nprovidence. On the other hand, there are their counterparts of avarice,\nfraud, injustice, and selfishness, as displayed by the inordinate lovers\nof gain; and the vices of thoughtlessness, extravagance, and\nimprovidence, on the part of those who misuse and abuse the means\nentrusted to them.\n\nSir Henry Taylor has observed that \"industry must take an interest in\nits own fruits, and God has appointed that the mass of mankind shall be\nmoved by this interest, and have their daily labour sweetened by it.\"\nThe earnings and savings of industry should be intelligent for a purpose\nbeyond mere earnings and savings. We do not work and strive for\nourselves alone, but for the benefit of those who dependent upon us.\nIndustry must know how to earn, how to spend, and how to save. The man\nwho knows, like St. Paul, how to spare and how to abound, has a great\nknowledge.\n\nEvery man is bound to do what he can to elevate his social state, and to\nsecure his independence. For this purpose he must spare from his means\nin order to be independent in his condition. Industry enables men to\nearn their living; it should also enable them to learn to live.\nIndependence can only be established by the exercise of forethought,\nprudence, frugality, and self-denial. To be just as well as generous,\nmen must deny themselves. The essence of generosity is self-sacrifice.\n\nThe object of this book is to induce men to employ their means for\nworthy purposes, and not to waste them upon selfish indulgences. Many\nenemies have to be encountered in accomplishing this object. There are\nidleness, thoughtlessness, vanity, vice, intemperance. The last is the\nworst enemy of all. Numerous cases are cited in the course of the\nfollowing book, which show that one of the best methods of abating the\nCurse of Drink, is to induce old and young to practise the virtue of\nThrift.\n\nMuch of this book was written, and some of it published, years ago; but\nan attack of paralysis, which compelled the author to give up writing\nfor some time, has delayed its appearance until now. For much of the\ninformation recently received, he is indebted to Edward Crossley, Esq.,\nMayor of Halifax; Edward Akroyd, Esq., Halifax; George Chetwynd, Esq.,\nGeneral Post Office; S.A. Nichols, Esq., Over Darwen; Jeremiah Head,\nEsq., Middlesborough; Charles W. Sikes, Esq., Huddersfield: and numerous\nother correspondents in Durham, Renfrewshire, Yorkshire, Lancashire,\nStaffordshire, and South Wales.\n\nThe author trusts that the book will prove useful and helpful towards\nthe purpose for which it is intended.\n\nLondon, _November,_ 1875.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nINDUSTRY.\n\nPrivate economy--Useful labours--Our birthright--Results of\nlabour--Necessity for labour--Industry and intellect--Thrift and\ncivilization--Thrifty industry--Thrifty economy. Pages 1--10\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nHABITS OF THRIFT.\n\nWorkmen and capital--Habits of economy--Self-indulgence--Results of\nthriftlessness--Uses of saved money--Extravagant\nliving--Bargain-buying--Thrift and unthrift--Johnson on\neconomy--Self-respect--Self-help--Uncertainty of life--Laws of\nmortality--Will nobody help us?--Prosperous times the least\nprosperous--National prosperity--Moral independence. Pages 11--29\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nIMPROVIDENCE.\n\nMisery and wealth--The uncivilized--The East End--Edward Denison--Thrift\nin Guernsey--Improvidence and misery--Social Degradation--Fatalism of\nimprovidence--Self-taxation--Slowness of progress. Pages 30--40\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nMEANS OF SAVING.\n\nEarnings of operatives--Colliers and iron-workers--Earnings of\ncolliers--The revellers--Lord Elcho and the colliers--High wages and\nheavy losses--High wages and drink--Sensual indulgence--Indifference to\nwell-being--Hugh Miller's experience--Mr. Roebuck's advice--Survival of\nslavery--Extinction of slavery--Power unexercised--Earnings and\ncharacter--Ignorance is power--Results of ignorance--Increase of\nknowledge--Education not enough--Words of Sir Arthur Helps--Divine uses\nof knowledge--Public school education--Words of William Felkin. Pages\n41--64\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nEXAMPLES OF THRIFT.\n\nSpirit of order--Examples of economy--David Hume--Rev. Robert\nWalker--Self-application--Distinguished miners--Geo. Stephenson--James\nWatt--Working for independence--Working for higher things--Work and\nculture--Richardson and Gregory--Results of application--Distinguished\nartists--Canova and Lough--John Lough--Lough's success--Words of Lord\nDerby--James Nasmyth--Bridgewater foundry--Advice to young men. Pages\n65--88\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nMETHODS OF ECONOMY.\n\nKeeping regular account--Generosity and forethought--Prudent economy--A\ndignity in saving--Self-improvement--Causes of failure--The price of\nsuccess--Power of combining--Principle of association--Savings of\ncapital--Loss by strikes--Money thrown away--Industrial\nsocieties--Co-operative companies--Equitable pioneers--Darwen\nco-operatives--Spread of co-operation--Thrift conservative--Uses of\ninvestments in building societies. Pages 89--109\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nECONOMY IN LIFE ASSURANCE.\n\nCo-operation in assurance--Improvidence cruel--Compensation of\nassurance--Benefit societies--French and Belgian thrift--Workmen's\nsocieties--Manchester Unity--Duty and Dinners--Low rates of\ncontribution--Failure of friendly societies--Improvement by\nexperience--Defects will disappear. Pages 110--122\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nSAVINGS BANKS.\n\nDirect saving--Uses of saved money--Beginnings of savings banks--Dr.\nDuncan of Ruthwell--Establishment of savings banks--Classes of\nDepositors--Magic of drill--Military savings banks--Savings of\nsoldiers--Soldiers abroad--Deposits in savings banks--Savings at\nBilston--Savings of working men--Penny banks--Charles W.\nSikes--Mechanics' institute banks--The poor man's purse--Depositors in\npenny banks--They cultivate prudent habits--Influence of women--Early\nlessons in thrift--Belgian Schools--Facilities for saving--Extension of\nsavings banks--Money order offices--Post office savings banks--Charles\nW. Sikes--Lessons of thrift--Mechanics' savings banks--Savings of\nartizans--Savings in Preston. Pages 123--158\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nLITTLE THINGS.\n\nLuck and labour--Neglect of little things--\"It will do!\"--Spending of\npennies--The thrifty woman--A helpful wife--A man's daily life--The two\nworkmen--Rights and habits--Influence of the wife--A penny a day--The\npower of a penny--Joseph Baxendale--Pickford and Co.--Roads and\nRailways--Business maxims. Pages 159--178\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nMASTERS AND MEN.\n\nWant of sympathy--Masters and servants--Christian\nsympathy--Competition--What capital represents--Workmen and\nemployers--The Ashworths--New Eagley Mills--Improved workpeople--Public\nspirit of manufacturers--Mr. Lister of Bradford--Mr. Foster's\nspeech--Great men wise savers--Sir Titus Salt--Saltaire--Its\ninstitutions--Music and sobriety--Mr. Akroyd, Halifax--Yorkshire penny\nbank--Origin of the bank--How to help the poor--Saving helps\nsobriety--Drunkenness put down--\"Childish work\"--Penny banks. Pages\n179--204\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nTHE CROSSLEYS--MASTERS AND MEN (CONTINUED).\n\nJohn Crossley--Martha Crossley--A courtship begun--A courtship\nconcluded--John Crossley begins business--Dean Clough Mill--The Crossley\nfamily--Sir Francis Crossley--Martha Crossley's vow--Halifax People's\nPark--Martha's vow fulfilled--Co-operation of colliers--Partnership of\nindustry--Other co-operative schemes--Jeremiah Head--Newport rolling\nmills--Bonuses to workmen--Mr. Carlyle's letter--A contrast--A hundred\nyears ago--Popular amusements--Improvement of manners--English mechanics\nand workmen--English engineers and miners--Swiftness of\nmachinery--Foreign workmen--Provident habits of foreigners. Pages\n205--232\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\nLIVING BEYOND THE MEANS.\n\nHypocrisy and debt--Conventionalism--Keeping up appearances--Exclusive\ncircles--Women and exclusiveness--Women and extravagance--Running into\ndebt--The temptation of shopkeepers--Temptations to crime--How crime is\ncommitted--Love of dress--Gents--Reckless expenditure--Knowledge of\nArithmetic--Marriage--Happy tempers--Responsibilities of\nmarriage--Marriage not a lottery--The man who couldn't say \"No\"--The\ncourage to say \"No\"--\"Respectable\" funerals--Funeral extravagance--John\nWesley's will--Funeral reform. Pages 233--258\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\nGREAT DEBTORS.\n\nGreatness and debt--Seedy side of debt--Running up bills--Loan\nclubs--Genius and debt--Fox and Sheridan--Sheridan's\ndebts--Lamartine--Webster--Debts of men of science--Debts of\nartists--Italian artists--Haydon--The old poets--Savage and\nJohnson--Steele and Goldsmith--Goldsmith's debts--Goldsmith's\nadvice--Byron's debts--The burden of debt--Burns and Sydney Smith--De\nFoe and Southey--Southey and Scott--Scott's debts and labours--Great\npoor men--Johnson's advice--Genius and debt--Literary men. Pages\n259--285\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\nRICHES AND CHARITY.\n\nHelping the helpless--Dr. Donne--Rich people--Love of gold--Eagerness to\nbe rich--Riches and poverty--Riches in old age--Riches no claim to\ndistinction--Democrats and riches--Saladin the great--Don Jose de\nSalamanca--Compensations of poverty--Honest poverty--Poverty and\nhappiness--Charity--Evils of money-giving--Philanthropy and\ncharity--Rich people's wills--Stephen Girard--Thomas Guy--Educational\ncharities--Peabody's benefaction--Benefactors of the poor--The Navvy's\nHome. Pages 286--314\n\n\nCHAPTER XV.\n\nHEALTHY HOMES.\n\nHealthy existence--Necessity for pure air--The fever tax--The\nArcadians--The rural poor--Influence of the home--Unhealthy\nhomes--Health and drunkenness--Wholesome dwellings--Edwin\nChadwick--Expectancy of life--The poor laws--The sanitary idea--The\nsanitary inquiry--Sanitary commission--Sanitary science--Results of\nuncleanness--Losses by ill-health--That terrible Nobody!--Home\nreform--Domestic improvement--Cleanliness--Dirt and immorality--Worship\nin washing--Knowledge of physiology--Domestic economy--English\ncookery--Morals and cookery--Work for ladies--Joseph Corbet's story.\nPages 315--353\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI.\n\nTHE ART OF LIVING.\n\nArt of living exemplified--Taste an economist--Contrasts in cottage\nlife--Difference in workmen--Living at home--Home and\ncomfort--Comfortable people--Beneficence of house thrift--Organization\nand method--Industry and punctuality--Management of temper--Good\nmanners--Habitual politeness--French manners--Happiness in good\nmanners--Amusement--Relaxation--Influence of music--Household\nelegance--Elegance of flowers--Common enjoyments--Portraits of great\nmen--Art at home--Final art of living. Pages 358--378\n\n\nINDEX 379\n\n\n\n\n\nA FABLE.\n\nA grasshopper, half starved with cold and hunger, came to a well-stored\nbeehive at the approach of winter, and humbly begged the bees to relieve\nhis wants with a few drops of honey.\n\nOne of the bees asked him how he had spent his time all the summer, and\nwhy he had not laid up a store of food like them.\n\n\"Truly.\" said he, \"I spent my time very merrily, in drinking, dancing,\nand singing, and never once thought of winter.\"\n\n\"Our plan is very different,\" said the bee; \"we work hard in the summer,\nto lay by a store of food against the season when we foresee we shall\nwant it; but those who do nothing but drink, and dance, and sing in the\nsummer, must expect to starve in the winter.\"\n\n\n\n\nTHRIFT.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nINDUSTRY.\n\n\n\n\"Not what I have, but what I do, is my kingdom.\"--_Carlyle_.\n\n\"Productive industry is the only capital which enriches a people, and\nspreads national prosperity and well-being. In all labour there is\nprofit, says Solomon. What is the science of Political Economy, but a\ndull sermon on this text?\"--_Samuel Laing_.\n\n\"God provides the good things of the world to serve the needs of nature,\nby the labours of the ploughman, the skill and pains of the artizan, and\nthe dangers and traffic of the merchant.... The idle person is like one\nthat is dead, unconcerned in the changes and necessities of the world;\nand he only lives to spend his time, and eat the fruits of the earth:\nlike a vermin or a wolf, when their time comes they die and perish, and\nin the meantime do no good.\"--_Jeremy Taylor_.\n\n\"For the structure that we raise,\n   Time is with materials filled;\n Our to-days and yesterdays\n   Are the blocks with which we build.\"--_Longfellow_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThrift began with civilization. It began when men found it necessary to\nprovide for to-morrow, as well as for to-day. It began long before money\nwas invented.\n\nThrift means private economy. It includes domestic economy, as well as\nthe order and management of a family.\n\nWhile it is the object of Private Economy to create and promote the\nwell-being of individuals, it is the object of Political Economy to\ncreate and increase the wealth of nations.\n\nPrivate and public wealth have the same origin. Wealth is obtained by\nlabour; it is preserved by savings and accumulations; and it is\nincreased by diligence and perseverance.\n\nIt is the savings of individuals which compose the wealth--in other\nwords, the well-being--of every nation. On the other hand, it is the\nwastefulness of individuals which occasions the impoverishment of\nstates. So that every thrifty person may be regarded as a public\nbenefactor, and every thriftless person as a public enemy.\n\nThere is no dispute as to the necessity for Private Economy. Everybody\nadmits it, and recommends it. But with respect to Political Economy,\nthere are numerous discussions,--for instance, as to the distribution of\ncapital, the accumulations of property, the incidence of taxation, the\nPoor Laws, and other subjects,--into which we do not propose to enter.\nThe subject of Private Economy, of Thrift, is quite sufficient by itself\nto occupy the pages of this book.\n\nEconomy is not a natural instinct, but the growth of experience,\nexample, and forethought. It is also the result of education and\nintelligence. It is only when men become wise and thoughtful that they\nbecome frugal. Hence the best means of making men and women provident is\nto make them wise.\n\nProdigality is much more natural to man than thrift. The savage is the\ngreatest of spendthrifts, for he has no forethought, no to-morrow. The\nprehistoric man saved nothing. He lived in caves, or in hollows of the\nground covered with branches. He subsisted on shellfish which he picked\nup on the seashore, or upon hips and haws which he gathered in the\nwoods. He killed animals with stones. He lay in wait for them, or ran\nthem down on foot. Then he learnt to use stones as tools; making stone\narrow-heads and spear-points, thereby utilizing his labour, and killing\nbirds and animals more quickly.\n\nThe original savage knew nothing of agriculture. It was only in\ncomparatively recent times that men gathered seeds for food, and saved a\nportion of them for next year's crop. When minerals were discovered, and\nfire was applied to them, and the minerals were smelted into metal, man\nmade an immense stride. He could then fabricate hard tools, chisel\nstone, build houses, and proceed by unwearying industry to devise the\nmanifold means and agencies of civilization.\n\nThe dweller by the ocean burnt a hollow in a felled tree, launched it,\nwent to sea in it, and fished for food. The hollowed tree became a boat,\nheld together with iron nails. The boat became a galley, a ship, a\npaddle-boat, a screw steamer, and the world was opened up for\ncolonization and civilization.\n\nMan would have continued uncivilized, but for the results of the useful\nlabours of those who preceded him. The soil was reclaimed by his\npredecessors, and made to grow food for human uses. They invented tools\nand fabrics, and we reap the useful results. They discovered art and\nscience, and we succeed to the useful effects of their labours.\n\nAll nature teaches that no good thing which has once been done passes\nutterly away. The living are ever reminded of the buried millions who\nhave worked and won before them. The handicraft and skill displayed in\nthe buildings and sculptures of the long-lost cities of Nineveh,\nBabylon, and Troy, have descended to the present time. In nature's\neconomy, no human labour is altogether lost. Some remnant of useful\neffect continues to reward the race, if not the individual.\n\nThe mere material wealth bequeathed to us by our forefathers forms but\nan insignificant item in the sum of our inheritance. Our birthright is\nmade up of something far more imperishable. It consists of the sum of\nthe useful effects of human skill and labour. These effects were not\ntransmitted by learning, but by teaching and example. One generation\ntaught another, and thus art and handicraft, the knowledge of mechanical\nappliances and materials, continued to be preserved. The labours and\nefforts of former generations were thus transmitted by father to son;\nand they continue to form the natural heritage of the human race--one of\nthe most important instruments of civilization.\n\nOur birthright, therefore, consists in the useful effects of the labours\nof our forefathers; but we cannot enjoy them unless we ourselves take\npart in the work. All must labour, either with hand or head. Without\nwork, life is worthless; it becomes a mere state of moral coma. We do\nnot mean merely physical work. There is a great deal of higher work--the\nwork of action and endurance, of trial and patience, of enterprise and\nphilanthropy, of spreading truth and civilization, of diminishing\nsuffering and relieving the poor, of helping the weak, and enabling them\nto help themselves.\n\n\"A noble heart,\" says Barrow, \"will disdain to subsist, like a drone,\nupon others' labours; like a vermin to filch its food out of the public\ngranary; or, like a shark, to prey upon the lesser fry; but it will\nrather outdo his private obligations to other men's care and toil, by\nconsiderable service and beneficence to the public; for there is no\ncalling of any sort, from the sceptre to the spade, the management\nwhereof, with any good success, any credit, any satisfaction, doth not\ndemand much work of the head, or of the hands, or of both.\"\n\nLabour is not only a necessity, but it is also a pleasure. What would\notherwise be a curse, by the constitution of our physical system becomes\na blessing. Our life is a conflict with nature in some respects, but it\nis also a co-operation with nature in others. The sun, the air, and the\nearth are constantly abstracting from us our vital forces. Hence we eat\nand drink for nourishment, and clothe ourselves for warmth.\n\nNature works with us. She provides the earth which we furrow; she grows\nand ripens the seeds that we sow and gather. She furnishes, with the\nhelp of human labour, the wool that we spin and the food that we eat.\nAnd it ought never to be forgotten, that however rich or poor we may be,\nall that we eat, all that we are clothed with, all that shelters us,\nfrom the palace to the cottage, is the result of labour.\n\nMen co-operate with each other for the mutual sustenance of all. The\nhusbandman tills the ground and provides food; the manufacturer weaves\ntissues, which the tailor and seamstress make into clothes; the mason\nand the bricklayer build the houses in which we enjoy household life.\nNumbers of workmen thus contribute and help to create the general\nresult.\n\nLabour and skill applied to the vulgarest things invest them at once\nwith precious value. Labour is indeed the life of humanity; take it\naway, banish it, and the race of Adam were at once stricken with death.\n\"He that will not work,\" said St. Paul, \"neither shall he eat;\" and the\napostle glorified himself in that he had laboured with his own hands,\nand had not been chargeable to any man.\n\nThere is a well-known story of an old farmer calling his three idle sons\naround him when on his deathbed, to impart to them an important secret.\n\"My sons,\" said he, \"a great treasure lies hid in the estate which I am\nabout to leave to you.\" The old man gasped. \"Where is it hid?\" exclaimed\nthe sons in a breath. \"I am about to tell you,\" said the old man; \"you\nwill have to dig for it----\" but his breath failed him before he could\nimpart the weighty secret; and he died. Forthwith the sons set to work\nwith spade and mattock upon the long neglected fields, and they turned\nup every sod and clod upon the estate. They discovered no treasure, but\nthey learnt to work; and when fields were sown, and the harvests came,\nlo! the yield was prodigious, in consequence of the thorough tillage\nwhich they had undergone. Then it was that they discovered the treasure\nconcealed in the estate, of which their wise old father had advised\nthem.\n\nLabour is at once a burden, a chastisement, an honour, and a pleasure.\nIt may be identified with poverty, but there is also glory in it. It\nbears witness, at the same time, to our natural wants and to our\nmanifold needs. What were man, what were life, what were civilization,\nwithout labour? All that is great in man comes of labour;--greatness in\nart, in literature, in science. Knowledge--\"the wing wherewith we fly to\nheaven\"--is only acquired through labour. Genius is but a capability of\nlabouring intensely: it is the power of making great and sustained\nefforts. Labour may be a chastisement, but it is indeed a glorious one.\nIt is worship, duty, praise, and immortality,--for those who labour with\nthe highest aims, and for the purest purposes.\n\nThere are many who murmur and complain at the law of labour under which\nwe live, without reflecting that obedience to it is not only in\nconformity with the Divine will, but also necessary for the development\nof intelligence, and for the thorough enjoyment of our common nature. Of\nall wretched men, surely the idle are the most so;--those whose life is\nbarren of utility, who have nothing to do except to gratify their\nsenses. Are not such men the most querulous, miserable, and dissatisfied\nof all, constantly in a state of _ennui_, alike useless to themselves\nand to others--mere cumberers of the earth, who when removed are missed\nby none, and whom none regret? Most wretched and ignoble lot, indeed, is\nthe lot of the idlers.\n\nWho have helped the world onward so much as the workers; men who have\nhad to work for necessity or from choice? All that we call\nprogress--civilization, well-being, and prosperity--depends upon\nindustry, diligently applied,--from the culture of a barley-stalk, to\nthe construction of a steamship,--from the stitching of a collar, to the\nsculpturing of \"the statue that enchants the world.\"\n\nAll useful and beautiful thoughts, in like manner, are the issue of\nlabour, of study, of observation, of research, of diligent elaboration.\nThe noblest poem cannot be elaborated, and send down its undying strains\ninto the future, without steady and painstaking labour. No great work\nhas ever been done \"at a heat.\" It is the result of repeated efforts,\nand often of many failures. One generation begins, and another\ncontinues--the present co-operating with the past. Thus, the Parthenon\nbegan with a mud-hut; the Last Judgment with a few scratches on the\nsand. It is the same with individuals of the race; they begin with\nabortive efforts, which, by means of perseverance, lead to successful\nissues.\n\nThe history of industry is uniform in the character of its\nillustrations. Industry enables the poorest man to achieve honour, if\nnot distinction. The greatest names in the history of art, literature,\nand science, are those of labouring men. A working instrument-maker gave\nus the steam-engine; a barber, the spinning-machine; a weaver, the mule;\na pitman perfected the locomotive;--and working men of all grades have,\none after another, added to the triumphs of mechanical skill.\n\nBy the working man, we do not mean merely the man who labours with his\nmuscles and sinews. A horse can do this. But _he_ is pre-eminently the\nworking man who works with his brain also, and whose whole physical\nsystem is under the influence of his higher faculties. The man who\npaints a picture, who writes a book, who makes a law, who creates a\npoem, is a working man of the highest order,--not so necessary to the\nphysical sustainment of the community as the ploughman or the shepherd;\nbut not less important as providing for society its highest intellectual\nnourishment.\n\nHaving said so much of the importance and the necessity of industry, let\nus see what uses are made of the advantages derivable from it. It is\nclear that man would have continued uncivilized but for the\naccumulations of savings made by his forefathers,--the savings of skill,\nof art, of invention, and of intellectual culture.\n\nIt is the savings of the world that have made the civilization of the\nworld. Savings are the result of labour; and it is only when labourers\nbegin to save, that the results of civilization accumulate. We have said\nthat thrift began with civilization: we might almost have said that\nthrift produced civilization. Thrift produces capital; and capital is\nthe conserved result of labour. The capitalist is merely a man who does\nnot spend all that is earned by work.\n\nBut thrift is not a natural instinct. It is an acquired principle of\nconduct. It involves self-denial--the denial of present enjoyment for\nfuture, good--the subordination of animal appetite to reason,\nforethought, and prudence. It works for to-day, but also provides for\nto-morrow. It invests the capital it has saved, and makes provision for\nthe future.\n\n\"Man's right of seeing the future,\" says Mr. Edward Denison, \"which is\nconferred on him by reason, has attached to it the duty of providing for\nthat future; and our language bears witness to this truth by using, as\nexpressive of active precaution against future want, a word which in its\nradical meaning implies only a passive foreknowledge of the same.\nWhenever we speak of the _virtue of providence_, we assume that\nforewarned is fore-armed, To know the future is no virtue, but it is the\ngreatest of virtues to prepare for it.\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: _Letters of the late Edward Denison._ p. 240.]\n\nBut a large proportion of men do not provide for the future. They do not\nremember the past. They think only of the present. They preserve\nnothing. They spend all that they earn. They do not provide for\nthemselves: they do not provide for their families. They may make high\nwages, but eat and drink the whole of what they earn. Such people are\nconstantly poor, and hanging on the verge of destitution.\n\nIt is the same with nations. The nations which consume all that they\nproduce, without leaving a store for future production, have no capital.\nLike thriftless individuals, they live from hand to mouth, and are\nalways poor and miserable. Nations that have no capital, have no\ncommerce. They have no accumulations to dispose of; hence they have no\nships, no sailors, no docks, no harbours, no canals, and no railways.\nThrifty industry lies at the root of the civilization of the world.\n\nLook at Spain. There, the richest soil is the least productive. Along\nthe banks of the Guadalquiver, where once twelve thousand villages\nexisted, there are now not eight hundred; and they are full of beggars.\nA Spanish proverb says, \"El cielo y suelo es bueno, el entresuelo\nmalo\"--The sky is good, the earth is good; that only is bad which lies\nbetween the sky and the earth. Continuous effort, or patient labour, is\nfor the Spaniard an insupportable thing. Half through indolence, half\nthrough pride, he cannot bend to work. A Spaniard will blush to work; he\nwill not blush to beg![2]\n\n[Footnote 2: EUGENE POITOU--_Spain and its People._ pp. 184--188.]\n\nIt is in this way that society mainly consists of two classes--the\nsavers and the wasters, the provident and the improvident, the thrifty\nand the thriftless, the Haves and the Have-nots. The men who economize\nby means of labour become the owners of capital which sets other labour\nin motion. Capital accumulates in their hands, and they employ other\nlabourers to work for them. Thus trade and commerce begin.\n\nThe thrifty build houses, warehouses, and mills. They fit manufactories\nwith tools and machines. They build ships, and send them to various\nparts of the world. They put their capital together, and build\nrailroads, harbours, and docks. They open up mines of coal, iron, and\ncopper; and erect pumping engines to keep them clear of water. They\nemploy labourers to work the mines, and thus give rise to an immense\namount of employment.\n\nAll this is the result of thrift. It is the result of economizing money,\nand employing it for beneficial purposes. The thriftless man has no\nshare in the progress of the world. He spends all that he gets, and can\ngive no help to anybody. No matter how much money he makes, his position\nis not in any respect raised. He husbands none of his resources. He is\nalways calling for help. He is, in fact, the born thrall and slave of\nthe thrifty.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nHABITS OF THRIFT.\n\n\n\"Die Hauptsache ist dass man lerne sich selbst zu beherrschen.\" [The\ngreat matter is to learn to rule oneself.]--_Goethe_.\n\n\"Most men work for the present, a few for the future. The wise work for\nboth--for the future in the present, and for the present in the\nfuture.\"--_Guesses at Truth_.\n\n\"The secret of all success is to know how to deny yourself.... If you\nonce learn to get the whip-hand of yourself, that is the best educator.\nProve to me that you can control yourself, and I'll say you're an\neducated man; and without this, all other education is good for next to\nnothing.\"--_Mrs. Oliphant_.\n\n\"All the world cries, 'Where is the man who will save us? We want a man!\nDon't look so far for this man. You have him at hand. This man--it is\nyou, it is I, it is each one of us! ... How to constitute oneself a man?\nNothing harder, if one knows not how to _will_ it; nothing easier, if\none wills it.\"--_Alexandre Dumas_.\n\n\nCompetence and comfort lie within the reach of most people, were they to\ntake the adequate means to secure and enjoy them. Men who are paid good\nwages might also become capitalists, and take their fair share in the\nimprovement and well-being of the world. But it is only by the exercise\nof labour, energy, honesty, and thrift, that they can advance their own\nposition or that of their class.\n\nSociety at present suffers far more from waste of money than from want\nof money. It is easier to make money than to know how to spend it. It is\nnot what a man gets that constitutes his wealth, but his manner of\nspending and economizing. And when a man obtains by his labour more than\nenough for his personal and family wants, and can lay by a little store\nof savings besides, he unquestionably possesses the elements of social\nwell-being. The savings may amount to little, but they may be sufficient\nto make him independent.\n\nThere is no reason why the highly-paid workman of to-day may not save a\nstore of capital. It is merely a matter of self-denial and private\neconomy. Indeed, the principal industrial leaders of to-day consist, for\nthe most part, of men who have sprung directly from the ranks. It is the\naccumulation of experience and skill that makes the difference between\nthe workman and the _no_-workman; and it depends upon the workman\nhimself whether he will save his capital or waste it. If he save it, he\nwill always find that he has sufficient opportunities for employing it\nprofitably and usefully.\n\n\"When I was down in Lancashire the other day,\" said Mr. Cobden to his\nfellow-townsmen at Midhurst, \"I visited a mill, in company with some\nother gentlemen, and that mill belonged to a person whose real name I\nwill not mention, but whom for the present purpose I will call Mr.\nSmith. There could not have been less than three or four thousand\npersons engaged in this mill when it was at work, and there were seven\nhundred power-looms under one roof. As we were coming away, one of the\nfriends who accompanied me patted the owner of the mill on the shoulder,\nand with that frank and manly familiarity which rather distinguishes the\nLancashire race, he said, 'Mr. Smith was a working man himself\ntwenty-five years ago, and he owes all this entirely to his own industry\nand frugality.' To which Mr. Smith immediately replied, in the same\nfrank and good-humoured manner, 'Nay, I do not owe it all to myself; I\nmarried a wife with a fortune; for she was earning 9_s_ 6_d_. a week as\na weaver at the power-loom, when she married me.'\"\n\nThrift of Time is equal to thrift of money. Franklin said, \"Time is\ngold.\" If one wishes to earn money, it may be done by the proper use of\ntime. But time may also be spent in doing many good and noble actions.\nIt may be spent in learning, in study, in art, in science, in\nliterature. Time can be economized by system. System is an arrangement\nto secure certain ends, so that no time may be lost in accomplishing\nthem. Every business man must be systematic and orderly. So must every\nhousewife. There must be a place for everything, and everything in its\nplace. There must also be a time for everything, and everything must be\ndone in time.\n\nIt is not necessary to show that economy is useful. Nobody denies that\nthrift may be practised. We see numerous examples of it. What many men\nhave already done, all other men _may_ do. Nor is thrift a painful\nvirtue. On the contrary, it enables us to avoid much contempt and many\nindignities. It requires us to deny ourselves, but not to abstain from\nany proper enjoyment. It provides many honest pleasures, of which\nthriftlessness and extravagance deprive us.\n\nLet no man say that he cannot economize. There are few persons who could\nnot contrive to save a few shillings weekly. In twenty years, three\nshillings saved weekly would amount to two hundred and forty pounds; and\nin ten years more, by addition of interest, to four hundred and twenty\npounds. Some may say that they cannot save nearly so much. Well! begin\nwith two shillings, one shilling, or even sixpence. Begin somewhere;\nbut, at all events, make a beginning. Sixpence a week, deposited in the\nsavings bank, will amount to forty pounds in twenty years, and seventy\npounds in thirty years. It is the _habit_ of economizing and denying\noneself that needs to be formed.\n\nThrift does not require superior courage, nor superior intellect, nor\nany superhuman virtue. It merely requires common sense, and the power of\nresisting selfish enjoyments. In fact, thrift is merely common sense in\nevery-day working action. It needs no fervent resolution, but only a\nlittle patient self-denial. BEGIN is its device! The more the habit of\nthrift is practised, the easier it becomes; and the sooner it\ncompensates the self-denier for the sacrifices which it has imposed.\n\nThe question may be asked,--Is it possible for a man working for small\nwages to save anything, and lay it by in a savings bank, when he\nrequires every penny for the maintenance of his family? But the fact\nremains, that it _is_ done by many industrious and sober men; that they\ndo deny themselves, and put their spare earnings into savings banks, and\nthe other receptacles provided for poor men's savings. And if some can\ndo this, all may do it under similar circumstances,--without depriving\nthemselves of any genuine pleasure, or any real enjoyment.\n\nHow intensely selfish is it for a person in the receipt of good pay to\nspend everything upon himself,--or, if he has a family, to spend his\nwhole earnings from week to week, and lay nothing by. When we hear that\na man, who has been in the receipt of a good salary, has died and left\nnothing behind him--that he has left his wife and family destitute--left\nthem to chance--to live or perish anywhere,--we cannot but regard it as\nthe most selfish thriftlessness. And yet, comparatively little is\nthought of such cases. Perhaps the hat goes round. Subscriptions may\nproduce something--perhaps nothing; and the ruined remnants of the\nunhappy family sink into poverty and destitution.\n\nYet the merest prudence would, to a great extent, have obviated this\nresult. The curtailment of any sensual and selfish enjoyment--of a glass\nof beer or a screw of tobacco--would enable a man, in the course of\nyears, to save at least something for others, instead of wasting it on\nhimself. It is, in fact, the absolute duty of the poorest man to\nprovide, in however slight a degree, for the support of himself and his\nfamily in the season of sickness and helplessness which often comes upon\nmen when they least expect such a visitation.\n\nComparatively few people can be rich; but most have it in their power to\nacquire, by industry and economy, sufficient to meet their personal\nwants. They may even become the possessors of savings sufficient to\nsecure them against penury and poverty in their old age. It is not,\nhowever, the want of opportunity, but the want of will, that stands in\nthe way of economy. Men may labour unceasingly with hand or head; but\nthey cannot abstain from spending too freely, and living too highly.\n\nThe majority prefer the enjoyment of pleasure to the practice of\nself-denial. With the mass of men, the animal is paramount. They often\nspend all that they earn. But it is not merely the working people who\nare spendthrifts. We hear of men who for years have been earning and\nspending hundreds a year, who suddenly die,--leaving their children\npenniless. Everybody knows of such cases. At their death, the very\nfurniture of the house they have lived in belongs to others. It is sold\nto pay their funeral expenses and debts which they have incurred during\ntheir thriftless lifetime.\n\nMoney represents a multitude of objects without value, or without real\nutility; but it also represents something much more precious,--and that\nis independence. In this light it is of great moral importance.\n\nAs a guarantee of independence, the modest and plebeian quality of\neconomy is at once ennobled and raised to the rank of one of the most\nmeritorious of virtues. \"Never treat money affairs with levity,\" said\nBulwer; \"Money is Character.\" Some of man's best qualities depend upon\nthe right use of money,--such as his generosity, benevolence, justice,\nhonesty, and forethought. Many of his worst qualities also originate in\nthe bad use of money,--such as greed, miserliness, injustice,\nextravagance, and improvidence.\n\nNo class ever accomplished anything that lived from hand to mouth.\nPeople who spend all that they earn, are ever hanging on the brink of\ndestitution. They must necessarily be weak and impotent--the slaves of\ntime and circumstance. They keep themselves poor. They lose\nself-respect, as well as the respect of others. It is impossible that\nthey can be free and independent. To be thriftless, is enough to deprive\none of all manly spirit and virtue.\n\nBut a man with something saved, no matter how little, is in a different\nposition. The little capital he has stored up, is always a source of\npower. He is no longer the sport of time and fate. He can boldly look\nthe world in the face. He is, in a manner, his own master. He can\ndictate his own terms. He can neither be bought nor sold. He can look\nforward with cheerfulness to an old age of comfort and happiness.\n\nAs men become wise and thoughtful, they generally become provident and\nfrugal. A thoughtless man, like a savage, spends as he gets, thinking\nnothing of to-morrow, of the time of adversity, or of the claims of\nthose whom he has made dependent on him. But a wise man thinks of the\nfuture; he prepares in good time for the evil day that may come upon him\nand his family; and he provides carefully for those who are near and\ndear to him.\n\nWhat a serious responsibility does the man incur who marries! Not many\nseriously think, of this responsibility. Perhaps this is wisely ordered.\nFor, much serious thinking might end in the avoidance of married life\nand its responsibilities. But, once married, a man ought forthwith to\ndetermine that, so far as his own efforts are concerned, want shall\nnever enter his household; and that his children shall not, in the event\nof his being removed from the scene of life and labour, be left a\nburthen upon society.\n\nEconomy with this object is an important duty. Without economy, no man\ncan be just--no man can be honest. Improvidence is cruelty to women and\nchildren; though the cruelty is born of ignorance. A father spends his\nsurplus means in drink, providing little, and saving nothing; and then\nhe dies, leaving his destitute family his lifelong victims. Can any form\nof cruelty surpass this? Yet this reckless course is pursued to a large\nextent among every class. The middle and upper classes are equally\nguilty with the lower class. They live beyond their means. They live\nextravagantly. They are ambitious of glare and glitter--frivolity and\npleasure. They struggle to be rich, that they may have the means of\nspending,--of drinking rich wines, and giving good dinners.\n\nWhen Mr. Hume said in the House of Commons, some years ago, that the\ntone of living in England was altogether too high, his observation was\nfollowed with \"loud laughter.\" Yet his remark was perfectly true. It is\nfar more true now than it was then. Thinking people believe that life is\nnow too fast, and that we are living at high-pressure. In short, we live\nextravagantly. We live beyond our means. We throw away oar earnings, and\noften throw our lives after them.\n\nMany persons are diligent enough in making money, but do not know how to\neconomize it,--or how to spend it. They have sufficient skill and\nindustry to do the one, but they want the necessary wisdom to do the\nother. The temporary passion for enjoyment seizes us, and we give way to\nit without regard to consequences. And yet it may be merely the result\nof forgetfulness, and might be easily controlled by firmness of will,\nand by energetic resolution to avoid the occasional causes of\nexpenditure for the future. The habit of saving arises, for the most\npart, in the desire to ameliorate our social condition, as well as to\nameliorate the condition of those who are dependent upon us. It\ndispenses with everything which is not essential, and avoids all methods\nof living that are wasteful and extravagant. A purchase made at the\nlowest price will be dear, if it be a superfluity. Little expenses lead\nto great. Buying things that are not wanted, soon accustoms us to\nprodigality in other respects.\n\nCicero said, \"Not to have a mania for buying, is to possess a revenue.\"\nMany are carried away by the habit of bargain-buying. \"Here is something\nwonderfully cheap: let us buy it.\" \"Have you any use for it?\" \"No, not\nat present; but it is sure to come in useful, some time.\" Fashion runs\nin this habit of buying. Some buy old china--as much as will furnish a\nchina-shop. Others buy old pictures--old furniture--old wines,--all\ngreat bargains! There would be little harm in buying these old things,\nif they were not so often bought at the expense of the connoisseur's\ncreditors. Horace Walpole once said, \"I hope that there will not be\nanother sale, for I have not an inch of room nor a farthing left.\"\n\nMen must prepare in youth and in middle age the means of enjoying old\nage pleasantly and happily. There can be nothing more distressing than\nto see an old man who has spent the greater part of his life in\nwell-paid-for-labour, reduced to the necessity of begging for bread, and\nrelying entirely on the commiseration of his neighbours, or upon the\nbounty of strangers. Such a consideration as this should inspire men in\nearly life with a determination to work and to save, for the benefit of\nthemselves and their families in later years.\n\nIt is, in fact, in youth that economy should be practised, and in old\nage that men should dispense liberally, provided they do not exceed\ntheir income. The young man has a long future before him, during which\nhe may exercise the principles of economy; whilst the other is reaching\nthe end of his career, and can carry nothing out of the world with him.\n\n\nThis, however, is not the usual practice. The young man now spends, or\ndesires to spend, quite as liberally, and often much more liberally,\nthan his father, who is about to end his career. He begins life where\nhis father left off. He spends more than his father did at his age, and\nsoon finds himself up to his ears in debt. To satisfy his incessant\nwants, he resorts to unscrupulous means, and to illicit gains. He tries\nto make money rapidly; he speculates, over-trades, and is speedily wound\nup. Thus he obtains experience; but it is the result, not of well-doing,\nbut of ill-doing.\n\nSocrates recommends fathers of families to observe the practice of their\nthrifty neighbours--of those who spend their means to the best\nadvantage,--and to profit by their example. Thrift is essentially\npractical, and can best be taught by facts. Two men earn, say, five\nshillings a day. They are in precisely the same condition as respects\nfamily living, and expenditure Yet the one says he cannot save, and does\nnot; while the other says he can save, and regularly deposits part of\nhis savings in a savings bank, and eventually becomes a capitalist.\n\nSamuel Johnson fully knew the straits of poverty. He once signed his\nname _Impransus_, or _Dinnerless_. He had walked the streets with\nSavage, not knowing where to lay his head at night. Johnson never forgot\nthe poverty through which he passed in his early life, and he was always\ncounselling his friends and readers to avoid it. Like Cicero, he averred\nthat the best source of wealth or well-being was economy. He called it\nthe daughter of Prudence, the sister of Temperance, and the mother of\nLiberty. his mind, his character. Self-respect, originating in\nself-love, instigates the first step of improvement. It stimulates a man\nto rise, to look upward, to develop his intelligence, to improve his\ncondition. Self-respect is the root of most of the virtues--of\ncleanliness, chastity, reverence, honesty, sobriety. To think meanly of\none's self is to sink; sometimes to descend a precipice at the bottom of\nwhich is infamy.\n\nEvery man can help himself to some extent. We are not mere straws thrown\nupon the current to mark its course; but possessed of freedom of action,\nendowed with power to stem the waves and rise above them, each marking\nout a course for himself. We can each elevate ourselves in the scale of\nmoral being. We can cherish pure thoughts. We can perform good actions.\nWe can live soberly and frugally. We can provide against the evil day.\nWe can read good books, listen to wise teachers, and place ourselves\nunder the divinest influences on earth. We can live for the highest\npurposes, and with the highest aims in view.\n\n\"Self-love and social are the same,\" says one of our poets. The man who\nimproves himself, improves the world. He adds one more true man to the\nmass. And the mass being made up of individuals, it is clear that were\neach to improve himself, the result would be the improvement of the\nwhole. Social advancement is the consequence of individual advancement.\nThe whole cannot be pure, unless the individuals composing it are pure.\nSociety at large is but the reflex of individual conditions. All this is\nbut the repetition of a truism, but truisms have often to be repeated to\nmake their full impression.\n\nThen again, a man, when he has improved himself, is better able to\nimprove those who are brought into contact with him. He has more power.\nHis sphere of vision is enlarged. He sees more clearly the defects in\nthe condition of others that might be remedied. He can lend a more\nactive helping hand to raise them. He has done his duty by himself, and\ncan with more authority urge upon others the necessity of doing the like\nduty to themselves. How can a man be a social elevator, who is himself\nwalking in the mire of self-indulgence? How can he teach sobriety or\ncleanliness, if he be himself drunken or foul? \"Physician, heal\nthyself,\" is the answer of his neighbours.\n\nThe sum and substance of our remarks is this: In all the individual\nreforms or improvements that we desire, we must begin with ourselves. We\nmust exhibit our gospel in our own life. We must teach by our own\nexample. If we would have others elevated, we must elevate ourselves.\nEach man can exhibit the results in his own person. He can begin with\nself-respect.\n\nThe uncertainty of life is a strong inducement to provide against the\nevil day. To do this is a moral and social, as well as a religious duty.\n\"He that provideth not for his own, and especially for those of his own\nhousehold, hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel.\"\n\nThe uncertainty of life is proverbially true. The strongest and\nhealthiest man may be stricken down in a moment, by accident or disease.\nIf we take human life in the mass, we cannot fail to recognize the\nuncertainty of life as much as we do the certainty of death.\n\nThere is a striking passage in Addison's \"Vision of Mirza,\" in which\nlife is pictured as a passage over a bridge of about a hundred arches. A\nblack cloud hangs over each end of the bridge. At the entrance to it\nthere are hidden pitfalls very thickly set, through which throngs\ndisappear, so soon as they have placed their feet upon the bridge. They\ngrow thinner towards the centre; they gradually disappear; until at\nlength only a few persons reach the further side, and these also having\ndropped through the pitfalls, the bridge at its further extremity\nbecomes entirely clear. The description of Addison corresponds with the\nresults of the observations made as to the duration of human life.\n\nThus, of a hundred thousand persons born in this country, it has been\nascertained that a fourth of them die before they have reached their\nfifth year; and one-half before they have reached their fiftieth year.\nOne thousand one hundred will reach their ninetieth year. Sixteen will\nlive to a hundred. And only two persons out of the hundred\nthousand--like the last barks of an innumerable convoy, will reach the\nadvanced and helpless age of a hundred and five years.\n\nTwo things are very obvious,--the uncertainty as to the hour of death in\nindividuals, but the regularity and constancy of the circumstances which\ninfluence the duration of human life in the aggregate. It is a matter of\ncertainty that the _average_ life of all persons born in this country\nextends to about forty-five years. This has been proved by a very large\nnumber of observations of human life and its duration.\n\nEqually extensive observations have been made as to the average number\nof persons of various ages who die yearly. It is always the number of\nthe experiments which gives the law of the probability. It is on such\nobservations that the actuary founds his estimates of the mortality that\nexists at any given period of life. The actuary tells you that he has\nbeen guided by the Laws of Mortality. Now the results must be very\nregular, to justify the actuary in speaking of Mortality as governed by\nLaws. And yet it is so.\n\nIndeed, there would seem to be no such thing as chance in the world. Man\nlives and dies in conformity to a law. A sparrow falls to the ground in\nobedience to a law. Nay, there are matters in the ordinary transactions\nof life, such as one might suppose were the mere result of chance, which\nare ascertained to be of remarkable accuracy when taken in the mass. For\ninstance, the number of letters put in the post-office without an\naddress; the number of letters wrongly directed; the number containing\nmoney; the number unstamped; continue nearly the same, in relation to\nthe number of letters posted, from one year to another.\n\nNow it is the business of man to understand the laws of health, and to\nprovide against their consequences,--as, for instance, in the matter of\nsickness, accident, and premature death. We cannot escape the\nconsequences of transgression of the natural laws, though we may have\nmeant well. We must have done well. The Creator does not alter His laws\nto accommodate them to our ignorance. He has furnished us with\nintelligence, so that we may understand them and act upon them:\notherwise we must suffer the consequences in inevitable pain and sorrow.\n\nWe often hear the cry raised, \"Will nobody help us?\" It is a spiritless,\nhopeless cry. It is sometimes a cry of revolting meanness, especially\nwhen it issues from those who with a little self-denial, sobriety, and\nthrift, might easily help themselves.\n\nMany people have yet to learn, that virtue, knowledge, freedom, and\nprosperity must spring from themselves. Legislation can do very little\nfor them: it cannot make them sober, intelligent, and well-doing. The\nprime miseries of most men have their origin in causes far removed from\nActs of Parliament.\n\nThe spendthrift laughs at legislation. The drunkard defies it, and\narrogates the right of dispensing with forethought and\nself-denial,--throwing upon others the blame of his ultimate\nwretchedness. The mob orators, who gather \"the millions\" about them, are\nvery wide of the mark, when, instead of seeking to train their crowd of\nhearers to habits of frugality, temperance, and self-culture, they\nencourage them to keep up the cry, \"Will nobody help us?\"\n\nThe cry sickens the soul. It shows gross ignorance of the first elements\nof personal welfare. Help is in men themselves. They were born to help\nand to elevate themselves. They must work out their own salvation. The\npoorest men have done it; why should not every man do it? The brave,\nupward spirit ever conquers.\n\nThe number of well-paid workmen in this country has become very large,\nwho might easily save and economize, to the improvement of their moral\nwell-being, of their respectability and independence, and of their\nstatus in society as men and citizens. They are improvident and\nthriftless to an extent which proves not less hurtful to their personal\nhappiness and domestic comfort, than it is injurious to the society of\nwhich they form so important a part.\n\nIn \"prosperous times\" they spend their gains recklessly, and when\nadverse times come, they are at once plunged in misery. Money is not\nused, but abused; and when wage-earning people should be providing\nagainst old age, or for the wants of a growing family, they are, in too\nmany cases, feeding folly, dissipation, and vice. Let no one say that\nthis is an exaggerated picture. It is enough to look round in any\nneighbourhood, and see how much is spent and how little is saved; what a\nlarge proportion of earnings goes to the beershop, and how little to the\nsavings bank or the benefit society.\n\n\"Prosperous times\" are very often the least prosperous of all times. In\nprosperous times, mills are working full time; men, women, and children\nare paid high wages; warehouses are emptied and filled; goods are\nmanufactured and exported; wherries full of produce pass along the\nstreets; immense luggage trains run along the railways, and\nheavily-laden ships leave our shores daily for foreign ports, full of\nthe products of our industry. Everybody seems to be becoming richer and\nmore prosperous. But we do not think of whether men and women are\nbecoming wiser, better trained, less self-indulgent, more religiously\ndisposed, or living for any higher purpose than the satisfaction of the\nanimal appetite.\n\nIf this apparent prosperity be closely examined, it will be found that\nexpenditure is increasing in all directions. There are demands for\nhigher wages; and the higher wages, when obtained, are spent as soon as\nearned. Intemperate habits are formed, and, once formed, the habit of\nintemperance continues. Increased wages, instead of being saved, are for\nthe most part spent in drink.\n\nThus, when a population is thoughtless and improvident, no kind of\nmaterial prosperity will benefit them. Unless they exercise forethought\nand economy, they will alternately be in a state of \"hunger and burst.\"\nWhen trade falls off, as it usually does after exceptional prosperity,\nthey will not be comforted by the thought of what they _might_ have\nsaved, had it ever occurred to them that the \"prosperous times\" might\nnot have proved permanent.\n\nDuring prosperous times, Saint Monday is regularly observed. The Bank\nHoliday is repeated weekly. \"Where are all the workmen?\" said a master\nto his foreman on going the rounds among his builders,--this work must\nbe pushed on and covered in while the fine weather lasts.\" \"Why, sir,\"\nsaid the foreman, \"this is Monday; and they have not spent all their\nmoney yet.\" Dean Boyd, preaching at Exeter on behalf of the Devonshire\nhospitals, expressed his belief that the annual loss to the workpeople\nengaged in the woollen manufacture, the cotton trade, the bricklaying\nand building trade, by Idle Monday, amounted to over seven millions\nsterling. If man's chief end were to manufacture cloth, silk, cotton,\nhardware, toys, and china; to buy in the cheapest market, and to sell in\nthe dearest; to cultivate land, grow corn, and graze cattle; to live for\nmere money profit, and hoard or spend, as the case might be, we might\nthen congratulate ourselves upon our National Prosperity. But is this\nthe chief end of man? Has he not faculties, affections, and sympathies,\nbesides muscular organs? Has not his mind and heart certain claims, as\nwell as his mouth and his back? Has he not a soul as well as a stomach?\nAnd ought not \"prosperity\" to include the improvement and well-being of\nhis morals and intellect as well as of his bones and muscles?\n\nMere money is no indication of prosperity. A man's nature may remain the\nsame. It may even grow more stunted and deformed, while he is doubling\nhis expenditure, or adding cent, per cent, to his hoards yearly. It is\nthe same with the mass. The increase of their gains may merely furnish\nthem with increased means for gratifying animal indulgences, unless\ntheir moral character keeps pace with their physical advancement. Double\nthe gains of an uneducated, overworked man, in a time of prosperity, and\nwhat is the result? Simply that you have furnished him with the means of\neating and drinking more! Thus, not even the material well-being of the\npopulation is secured by that condition of things which is defined by\npolitical economists as \"National Prosperity.\" And so long as the moral\nelements of the question are ignored, this kind of \"prosperity\" is, we\nbelieve, calculated to produce far more mischievous results than good.\nIt is knowledge and virtue alone that can confer dignity on a man's\nlife; and the growth of such qualities in a nation are the only true\nmarks of its real prosperity; not the infinite manufacture and sale of\ncotton prints, toys, hardware, and crockery. The Bishop of Manchester,\nwhen preaching at a harvest thanksgiving near Preston, referred to a\nletter which he had received from a clergyman in the south of England,\nwho, after expressing his pleasure at the fact that the agricultural\nlabourers were receiving higher wages, lamented \"that at present the\nonly result he could discover from their higher wages was that a great\ndeal _more beer_ was consumed. If this was the use we were making of\nthis prosperity, we could hardly call it a blessing for which we had a\nright or ground to thank God. The true prosperity of the nation\nconsisted not so much in the fact that the nation was growing in\nwealth--though wealth was a necessary attribute of prosperity--but that\nit was growing in virtue; and that there was a more equable distribution\nof comfort, contentment, and the things of this lower world.\"\n\nIn making the preceding observations we do not in the least advocate the\nformation of miserly, penurious habits; for we hate the scrub, the\nscrew, the miser. All that we contend for is, that man should provide\nfor the future,--that they should provide during good times for the bad\ntimes which almost invariably follow them,--that they should lay by a\nstore of savings as a breakwater against want, and make sure of a little\nfund which may maintain them in old age, secure their self-respect, and\nadd to their personal comfort and social well-being. Thrift is not in\nany way connected with avarice, usury, greed, or selfishness. It is, in\nfact, the very reverse of these disgusting dispositions.\n\nIt means economy for the purpose of securing independence. Thrift\nrequires that money should be used and not abused--that it should be\nhonestly earned and economically employed--\n\n\"Not for to put it in a hedge,\n Not for a train attendent,--\n But for the glorious privilege\n Of being Independent.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nIMPROVIDENCE.\n\n\n\"The man who has a wife and children has given hostages to\nfortune.\"--_Lord Bacon._\n\n\"In all conditions and circumstances, well-being is in the power of\nthose who have power over themselves.\"--_J.J. Gurney_.\n\n\"Where is their common sense? Alas, what imprudence! Early marriages;\nmany children; poor-rates, and the workhouse.... They are born; they are\nwretched; they die.... In no foreign country of far less civilization\nthan England, is there the same improvidence.\"--_Lord Lytton_.\n\n\"No man oppresses thee, O free and independent franchiser; but does not\nthis stupid pewter pot oppress thee? No son of Adam can bid thee come or\ngo, but this absurd pot of heavy-wet can and does, Thou art the thrall,\nnot of Cedric the Saxon, but of thy own brutal appetites, and this\naccursed dish of liquor. And thou pratest of thy 'liberty,' thou entire\nblockhead!\"--_Carlyle_.\n\n\"Never did any publike misery\n Rise of it selfe; God's plagues still grounded are\n On common staines of our Humanity:\n     And to the flame, which ruineth Mankind,\n     Man gives the matter, or at least gives winde.\"--_Daniell_.\n\n\nEngland is one of the richest countries in the world. Our merchants are\nenterprising, our manufacturers are industrious, our labourers are\nhard-working. There is an accumulation of wealth in the country to which\npast times can offer no parallel. The Bank is gorged with gold. There\nnever was more food in the empire; there never was more money. There is\nno end to our manufacturing productions, for the steam-engine never\ntires. And yet notwithstanding all this wealth, there is an enormous\nmass of poverty. Close alongside the Wealth of Nations, there gloomily\nstalks the Misery of Nations,--luxurious ease resting upon a dark\nbackground of wretchedness.\n\nParliamentary reports have again and again revealed to us the miseries\nendured by certain portions of our working population. They have\ndescribed the people employed in factories, workshops, mines, and\nbrickfields, as well as in the pursuits of country life. We have tried\nto grapple with the evils of their condition by legislation, but it\nseems to mock us. Those who sink into poverty are fed, but they remain\npaupers. Those who feed them, feel no compassion; and those who are fed,\nreturn no gratitude. There is no bond of sympathy between the givers and\nthe receivers. Thus the Haves and the Have-nots, the opulent and the\nindigent, stand at the two extremes of the social scale, and a wide gulf\nis fixed between them.\n\nAmong rude and savage people, the condition of poverty is uniform.\nProvided the bare appetites are satisfied, suffering is scarcely felt.\nWhere slavery exists, indigence is little known; for it is the master's\ninterest to keep the slave in a condition fit for labour, and the\nemployer generally takes care to supply the animal wants of the\nemployed. It is only when society becomes civilized and free, and man\nenters into competition with his fellows, that he becomes exposed to\nindigence, and experiences social misery. Where civilization, as in this\ncountry, has reached its highest point, and where large accumulations of\nwealth have been made, the misery of the indigent classes is only\nrendered more acute by the comfort and luxury with which it is placed in\nimmediate contrast.\n\nMuch of the existing misery is caused by selfishness--by the greed to\naccumulate wealth on the one hand, and by improvidence on the other.\nAccumulation of money has become the great desire and passion of the\nage. The wealth of nations, and not the happiness of nations, is the\nprincipal aim. We study political economy, and let social economy shift\nfor itself. Regard for \"Number One\" is the prevailing maxim.\n\nHigh profits are regarded as the _summum bonum_,--no matter how\nobtained, or at what sacrifice. Money is our god: \"Devil take the\nhindmost\" our motto. The spirits of darkness rule supreme--\n\n          \"Mammon has led them on,\nMammon, the least erect of all the spirits\nThat fell from Heaven.\"\n\nWith respect to the poorer classes,--what has become of them in the\nmidst of our so-called civilization? An immense proportion of them\nremain entirely uncivilized. Though living in a Christian country,\nChristianity has never reached them. They are as uncivilized and\nunchristianized as the Trinobantes were at the landing of Julius Caesar,\nabout nineteen hundred years ago. Yet these uncivilized people live in\nour midst. St. James's and St. Giles's lie close together. In the Parks\nof London, you may see how gold is worshipped; in the East End of\nLondon, you may see to what depths human misery may fall.\n\nThey work, eat, drink, and sleep: that constitutes their life. They\nthink nothing of providing for to-morrow, or for next week, or for next\nyear. They abandon themselves to their sensual appetites; and make no\nprovision whatever for the future. The thought of adversity, or of\ncoming sorrow, or of the helplessness that comes with years and\nsickness, never crosses their minds. In these respects, they resemble\nthe savage tribes, who know no better, and do no worse. Like the North\nAmerican Indians, they debase themselves by the vices which accompany\ncivilization, but make no use whatever of its benefits and advantages.\n\nCaptain Parry found the Esquimaux near the North Pole as uncivilized as\nthe miserable creatures who inhabit the dens of our great cities. They\nwere, of course, improvident; for, like savages generally, they never\nsave. They were always either feasting or famished.\n\nWhen they found a quantity of whale's blubber, they would eat as much of\nit as they could, and hide the rest. Yet their improvidence gave them no\nconcern. Even when they had been without food or fuel for days together,\nthey would be as gay and good-humoured as usual. They never thought of\nhow they should be provided for to-morrow. Saving for the future forms\nno part of the savage economy.\n\nAmongst civilized peoples, cold is said to be the parent of frugality.\nThus the northern nations of Europe owe a portion of their prosperity to\nthe rigour of their climate. Cold makes them save during summer, to\nprovide food, coal, and clothing during winter. It encourages\nhouse-building and housekeeping. Hence Germany is more industrious than\nSicily; Holland and Belgium than Andalusia; North America and Canada\nthan Mexico.\n\nWhen the late Edward Denison, M.P. for Newark, with unexampled\nself-denial, gave up a large portion of his time and labour to reclaim\nthe comparatively uncivilized population of the East End of London, the\nfirst thing he did was to erect an iron church of two stories, the lower\npart of which was used as a school and lecture room, and also as a club\nwhere men and boys might read, play games, and do anything else that\nmight keep them out of the drinking-houses. \"What is so bad in this\nquarter,\" said Mr. Denison, \"is the habitual condition of this mass of\nhumanity--its uniform mean level, the absence of anything more\ncivilizing than a grinding organ to raise the ideas beyond the daily\nbread and beer, the utter want of education, the complete indifference\nto religion, with the fruits of all this--improvidence, dirt, and their\nsecondaries, crime and disease.... There is no one to give a push to\nstruggling energy, to guide aspiring intelligence, or to break the fall\nof unavoidable misfortune.... The Mission Clergyman,\" he goes on to say,\n\"is a sensible, energetic man, in whose hands the work of _civilizing\nthe people_ is making as much progress as can be expected. But most of\nhis energy is taken up in serving tables, nor can any great advance be\nmade while every nerve has to be strained to keep the people from\nabsolute starvation. And this is what happens every winter.... What a\nmonstrous thing it is that in the richest country in the world, large\nmasses of the population should be condemned annually, by a natural\noperation of nature, to starvation and death. It is all very well to\nsay, how can it be helped? Why, it was not so in our grandfathers' time.\nBehind us they were in many ways, but they were not met every winter\nwith the spectacle of starving thousands. The fact is, we have accepted\nthe marvellous prosperity which has in the last twenty years been\ngranted us, without reflecting on the conditions attached to it, and\nwithout nerving ourselves to the exertion and the sacrifices which their\nfulfilment demands.\"\n\nAnd yet Mr. Denison clearly saw that if the people were sufficiently\neducated, and taught to practise the virtue of Thrift, much of this\nmisery might be prevented. \"The people,\" he elsewhere says, \"_create_\ntheir destitution and their disease. Probably there are hardly any of\nthe most needy who, if they had been only moderately frugal and\nprovident, could not have placed themselves in a position to tide over\nthe occasional months of want of work, or of sickness, which there\nalways must be.... I do not underrate the difficulty of laying by out of\nweekly earnings, but I say it _can_ be done. A dock-labourer, while a\nyoung, strong, unmarried man, could lay by half his weekly wages, and\nsuch men are almost sure of constant employment.\"\n\nAfter showing how married men might also save, Mr. Denison goes on to\nsay, \"Saving is within the reach of nearly every man, even if quite at\nthe bottom of the tree; but if it were of anything like _common_\noccurrence, the destitution and disease of this city would be kept\nwithin quite manageable limits. And this will take place. I may not live\nto see it, but it will be within two generations. For, unfortunately,\nthis amount of change may be effected without the least improvement in\nthe spiritual condition of the people. Good laws, energetically\nenforced, with compulsory education, supplemented by gratuitous\nindividual exertion (which will then have a much reduced field and much\nfairer prospects), will certainly succeed in giving the mass of the\npeople so much light as will generally guide them into so much industry\nand morality as is clearly conducive to their bodily ease and\nadvancement in life.\"\n\nThe difference in thriftiness between the English workpeople and the\ninhabitants of Guernsey is thus referred to by Mr. Denison: \"The\ndifference between poverty and pauperism is brought home to us very\nstrongly by what I see here. In England, we have people faring\nsumptuously while they are getting good wages, and coming on the parish\npaupers the moment those wages are suspended. Here, people are never\ndependent upon any support but their own; but they live, of their own\nfree will, in a style of frugality which a landlord would be hooted at\nfor suggesting to his cottagers. We pity Hodge, reduced to bacon and\ngreens, and to meat only once a week. The principal meal of a Guernsey\nfarmer consists of _soupe \u00e0 la graisse_, which is, being interpreted,\ncabbage and peas stewed with a little dripping. This is the daily dinner\nof men who _own_ perhaps three or four cows, a pig or two, and poultry.\nBut the produce and the flesh of these creatures they sell in the\nmarket, investing their gains in extension of land, or stock, or in\n\"quarters,\" that is, rent-charges on land, certificates of which are\nreadily bought and sold in the market.\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: _Letters and other writings of the late Edward Denison,\nM.P._, pp. 141, 142.]\n\nMr. Dension died before he could accomplish much. He was only able to\nmake a beginning. The misery, arising from improvidence, which he so\ndeeply deplored, still exists, and is even more widely spread. It is not\nmerely the artizan who spends all that he earns, but the classes above\nhim, who cannot plead the same excuse of ignorance. Many of what are\ncalled the \"upper\" classes are no more excusable than the \"lower.\" They\nwaste their means on keeping up appearances, and in feeding folly,\ndissipation, and vice.\n\nNo one can reproach the English workman with want of industry. He works\nharder and more skilfully than the workman of any other country; and he\nmight be more comfortable and independent in his circumstances, were he\nas prudent as he is laborious. But improvidence is unhappily the defect\nof the class. Even the best-paid English workmen, though earning more\nmoney than the average of professional men, still for the most part\nbelong to the poorer classes because of their thoughtlessness. In\nprosperous times they are not accustomed to make provision for adverse\ntimes; and when a period of social pressure occurs, they are rarely\nfound more than a few weeks ahead of positive want.\n\nHence, the skilled workman, unless trained in good habits, may exhibit\nno higher a life than that of the mere animal; and the earning of\nincreased wages will only furnish him with increased means for indulging\nin the gratification of his grosser appetites. Mr. Chadwick says, that\nduring the Cotton Famine, \"families trooped into the relief rooms in the\nmost abject condition, whose previous aggregate wages exceeded the\nincome of many curates,--as had the wages of many of the individual\nworkmen.\"[1] In a time of prosperity, working-people feast, and in a\ntime of adversity they \"clem.\" Their earnings, to use their own phrase,\n\"come in at the spigot and go out at the bunghole.\" When prosperity\ncomes to an end, and they are paid off, they rely upon chance and\nprovidence--the providence of the Improvident!\n\n[Footnote 1: _Address on Economy and Trade._ By EDWIN CHADWICK, C.B., p.\n22.]\n\nThough trade has invariably its cycles of good and bad years, like the\nlean and fat kine in Pharaoh's dream--its bursts of prosperity, followed\nby glut, panic, and distress--the thoughtless and spendthrift take no\nheed of experience, and make no better provision for the future.\nImprovidence seems to be one of the most incorrigible of faults. \"There\nare whole neighbourhoods in the manufacturing districts,\" says Mr. Baker\nin a recent Report, \"where not only are there no savings worth\nmentioning, but where, within a fortnight of being out of work, the\nworkers themselves are starving for want of the merest necessaries.\" Not\na strike takes place, but immediately the workmen are plunged in\ndestitution; their furniture and watches are sent to the pawnshop,\nwhilst deplorable appeals are made to the charitable, and numerous\nfamilies are cast upon the poor-rates.\n\nThis habitual improvidence--though of course there are many admirable\nexceptions--is the real cause of the social degradation of the artizan.\nThis too is the prolific source of social misery. But the misery is\nentirely the result of human ignorance and self-indulgence. For though\nthe Creator has ordained poverty, the poor are not necessarily, nor as a\nmatter of fact, the miserable. Misery is the result of moral\ncauses,--most commonly of individual vice and improvidence.\n\nThe Rev. Mr. Norris, in speaking of the habits of the highly paid miners\nand iron-workers of South Staffordshire, says, \"Improvidence is too tame\na word for it--it is recklessness; here young and old, married and\nunmarried, are uniformly and almost avowedly self-indulgent\nspendthrifts. One sees this reckless character marring and vitiating the\nnobler traits of their nature. Their gallantry in the face of danger is\nakin to foolhardiness; their power of intense labour is seldom exerted\nexcept to compensate for time lost in idleness and revelry; their\nreadiness to make 'gatherings' for their sick and married comrades seems\nonly to obviate the necessity of previous saving; their very creed--and,\nafter their sort, they are a curiously devotional people, holding\nfrequent prayer-meetings in the pits--often degenerates into fanatical\nfatalism. But it is seen far more painfully and unmistakably in the\nalternate plethora and destitution between which, from year's end to\nyear's end, the whole population seems to oscillate. The prodigal\nrevelry of the _reckoning night_, the drunkenness of Sunday, the refusal\nto work on Monday and perhaps Tuesday, and then the untidiness of their\nhome towards the latter part of the two or three weeks which intervene\nbefore the next pay-day; their children kept from school, their wives\nand daughters on the pit-bank, their furniture in the pawnshop; the\ncrowded and miry lanes in which they live, their houses often cracked\nfrom top to bottom by the 'crowning in' of the ground, without drainage,\nor ventilation, or due supply of water;--such a state of things as this,\nco-existing with earnings which might ensure comfort and even\nprosperity, seems to prove that no legislation can cure the evil.\"\n\nWe have certainly had numerous \"Reforms.\" We have had household\nsuffrage, and vote by ballot. We have relieved the working classes of\nthe taxes on corn, cattle, coffee, sugar, and provisions generally; and\nimposed a considerable proportion of the taxes from which they have been\nrelieved on the middle and upper ranks. Yet these measures have produced\nbut little improvement in the condition of the working people. They have\nnot applied the principle of Reform to themselves. They have not begun\nat home. Yet the end of all Reform is the improvement of the individual.\nEverything that is wrong in Society results from that which is wrong in\nthe Individual. When men are bad, society is bad.\n\nFranklin, with his shrewd common sense, observed, \"The taxes are indeed\nvery heavy; and if those laid on by the Government were the only ones we\nhad to pay, we might more easily discharge them; but we have many\nothers, and much more grievous to some of us. We are taxed quite as much\nby our idleness, three times as much by our pride, and four times as\nmuch by our folly; and from these taxes the Commissioners cannot ease or\ndeliver us by allowing an abatement.\"\n\nLord John Russell once made a similar statement to a body of working men\nwho waited upon him for the purpose of asking relief from taxation. \"You\ncomplain of the taxes,\" he said; \"but think of how you tax yourselves.\nYou consume about fifty millions yearly in drink. Is there any\nGovernment that would dare to tax you to that extent? You have it in\nyour own power greatly to reduce the taxes, and that without in any way\nappealing to us.\"\n\nComplaining that the laws are bad, and that the taxes are heavy, will\nnot mend matters. Aristocratic government, and the tyranny of masters,\nare nothing like so injurious as the tyranny of vicious appetites. Men\nare easily led away by the parade of their miseries, which are for the\nmost part voluntary and self-imposed,--the results of idleness,\nthriftlessness, intemperance, and misconduct. To blame others for what\nwe suffer, is always more agreeable to our self-pride, than to blame\nourselves. But it is perfectly clear that people who live from day to\nday without plan, without rule, without forethought--who spend all their\nearnings, without saving anything for the future--are preparing\nbeforehand for inevitable distress. To provide only for the present, is\nthe sure means to sacrificing the future. What hope can there be for a\npeople whose only maxim seems to be, \"Let us eat and drink, for\nto-morrow we die\"?\n\nAll this may seem very hopeless; yet it is not entirely so. The large\nearnings of the working classes is an important point to start with. The\ngradual diffusion of education will help them to use, and not abuse,\ntheir means of comfortable living. The more extended knowledge of the\nuses of economy, frugality, and thrift, will help them to spend their\nlives more soberly, virtuously, and religiously. Mr. Denison was of\nopinion that much of this might be accomplished \"within two\ngenerations.\" Social improvement is always very slow. How extremely\ntardy has been the progress of civilization! How gradually have its\nhumanizing influences operated in elevating the mass of the people! It\nrequires the lapse of generations before its effects can be so much as\ndiscerned: for a generation is but as a day in the history of\ncivilization. It has cost most nations ages of wars, before they could\nconquer their right of existence as nations. It took four centuries of\npersecutions and martyrdoms to establish Christianity, and two centuries\nof civil wars to establish the Reformation. The emancipation of the\nbondsmen from feudal slavery was only reached through long ages of\nmisery. From the days in which our British progenitors rushed to battle\nin their war-paint,--or those more recent times when the whole of the\nlabouring people were villeins and serfs, bought and sold with the soil\nwhich they tilled,--to the times in which we now live,--how wide the\ndifference, how gratifying the contrast. Surely it ought not to be so\ndifficult to put an end to the Satanic influences of thriftlessness,\ndrunkenness, and improvidence!\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nMEANS OF SAVING.\n\n\n\"Self-reliance and self-denial will teach a man to drink out of his own\ncistern, and eat his own sweet bread, and to learn and labour truly to\nget his own living, and carefully to save and expend the good things\ncommitted to his trust.\"--_Lord Bacon._\n\n\"Love, therefore, labour: if thou should'st not want it for food, thou\nmay'st for physic. It is wholesome for the body, and good for the mind;\nit prevents the fruit of idleness.\"--_William Penn._\n\n\"The parent who does not teach his child a trade, teaches him to be a\nthief.\"--_Brahminical Scriptures._\n\n\nThose who say that \"It can't be done,\" are probably not aware that many\nof the working classes are in the receipt of incomes considerably larger\nthan those of professional men.\n\nThat this is the case, is not, by any means, a secret. It is published\nin blue-books, it is given in evidence before parliamentary committees,\nit is reported in newspapers. Any coal-owner, or iron-master, or\ncotton-spinner, will tell you of the high wages that he pays to his\nworkpeople.\n\nFamilies employed in the cotton manufacture are able to earn over three\npounds a week, according to the number of the children employed.[1]\nTheir annual incomes will thus amount to about a hundred and fifty\npounds a year,--which is considerably larger than the incomes of many\nprofessional men--higher than the average of country surgeons, higher\nthan the average of the clergy and ministers of all denominations,\nhigher than the average of the teachers of common schools, and probably\nhigher than the average income of the middle classes of the United\nKingdom generally.\n\n[Footnote 1: A return of seven families employed by Henry Ashworth, New\nCayley Mills, Lancashire, is given in the Blue Book, entitled, \"Report\nof the Paris Universal Exhibition, 1867, containing the Returns relative\nto the New Order of Reward,\" p. 163. Of the seven families, the lowest\nearnings per family amounted to \u00a32 14s. 6d.; and the highest to \u00a33 19s.\na week.]\n\nAn employer at Blackburn informs us that many persons earn upwards of\nfive pounds a week,--or equal to an average income of two hundred and\nsixty pounds a year. Such families, he says, \"ought not to expend more\nthan three pounds weekly. The rest should be saved. But most of them,\nafter feeding and clothing themselves, spend the rest in drink and\ndissipation.\"\n\nThe wages are similar in the Burnley district, where food, drink, and\ndress absorb the greater part of the workpeople's earnings. In this, as\nin other factory districts, \"the practice of young persons\n(mill-workers) boarding with their parents is prevalent, and is very\ndetrimental to parental authority.\" Another reporter says, \"Wages are\nincreasing: as there is more money, and more time to spend it in,\nsobriety is not on the increase, especially amongst females.\"\n\nThe operatives employed in the woollen manufacture receive about forty\nshillings a week, and some as much as sixty,[1] besides the amount\nearned by their children.\n\nA good mechanic in an engine shop makes from thirty-five to forty-five\nshillings a week, and some mechanics make much larger wages. Multiply\nthese figures, and it will be found that they amount to an annual income\nof from a hundred to a hundred and twenty pounds a year.\n\n[Footnote 1: See the above Blue Book, p. 57, certifying the wages paid\nby Bliss and Son, of Chipping Norton Woollen Factory.]\n\nBut the colliers and iron-workers are paid much higher wages. One of the\nlargest iron-masters recently published in the newspapers the names of\ncertain colliers in his employment who were receiving from four to five\npounds a week,--or equal to an annual income of from two hundred to two\nhundred and fifty pounds a year.[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: Richard Fothergill, Esq., M.P. He published a subsequent\nletter, from which we extract the following:--\n\n\"No doubt such earnings seem large to clerks, and educated men, who\nafter receiving a costly education have often to struggle hard for\nbread; but they are nevertheless the rightful earnings of steady manual\nlabour; and I have the pleasure of adding that, while all steady,\nwell-disposed colliers, in good health, could make equally good wages,\nmany hundreds in South Wales are quietly doing as much or more: witness\na steady collier in my employment, with his two sons living at home,\nwhose monthly pay ticket has averaged \u00a330 for the past twelvemonth.\n\n\"Another steady collier within my information, aided by his son, h as\nearned during the past five months upwards of \u00a320 a month on the\naverage, and from his manual labour as an ordinary collier--for it is of\nthe working colliers and firemen I am speaking all along--he has built\nfifteen good houses, and, disregarding all menaces, he continues his\nhabits of steady industry, whereby he hopes to accumulate an\nindependence for his family in all events.\"]\n\nIron-workers are paid a still higher rate of wages. A plate-roller\neasily makes three hundred a year.[2] The rollers in rail mills often\nmake much more. In busy times they have made as much as from seven to\nten guineas a week, or equal to from three to five hundred a year.[3]\nBut, like the workers in cotton mills, the iron workers are often helped\nby their sons, who are also paid high wages. Thus, the under-hands are\nusually boys from fourteen years of age and upwards, who earn about\nnineteen shillings a week, and the helpers are boys of under fourteen,\nwho earn about nine shillings a week.\n\n[Footnote 2: See Messrs. Fox, Head, and Co.'s return, in the Blue Book\nabove referred to. This was the rate of wages at Middlesborough, in\nYorkshire. In South Wales, the wages of the principal operatives engaged\nin the iron manufacture, recently, were--Puddlers. 9_s_. a day; first\nheaters on the rail mills. 8_s_. 9_d_. a day: second heaters, 11_s_.\n7_d_.: roughers, 10_s_. 9_d_.: rollers, 13_s_. 2_d_., or equal to that\namount.]\n\n[Footnote 3: Even at the present time, when business is so much\ndepressed, the mill-rollers make an average wage of \u00a35 10_s_. a week.]\n\nThese earnings are far above the average incomes of the professional\nclasses. The rail rollers are able to earn a rate of pay equal to that\nof Lieutenant-Colonels in Her Majesty's Foot Guards; plate-rollers equal\nto that of Majors of Foot; and roughers equal to that of Lieutenants and\nAdjutants.\n\nGoldsmith spoke of the country curate as \"passing rich with forty pounds\na year.\" The incomes of curates have certainly increased since the time\nwhen Goldsmith wrote, but nothing like the incomes of skilled and\nunskilled workmen. If curates merely worked for money, they would\ncertainly change their vocation, and become colliers and iron-workers.\n\nWhen the author visited Renfrewshire a few years ago, the colliers were\nearning from ten to fourteen shillings a day. According to the common\nsaying, they were \"making money like a minting machine.\" To take an\ninstance, a father and three sons were earning sixty pounds a month,--or\nequal to a united income of more than seven hundred pounds a year. The\nfather was a sober, steady, \"eident\" man. While the high wages lasted,\nhe was the first to enter the pit in the morning, and the last to leave\nit at night. He only lost five days in one year (1873-4),--the loss\nbeing occasioned by fast-days and holidays. Believing that the period of\nhigh wages could not last long, he and his sons worked as hard as they\ncould. They saved a good deal of money, and bought several houses;\nbesides educating themselves to occupy higher positions.\n\nIn the same neighbourhood, another collier, with four sons, was earning\nmoney at about the same rate per man, that is about seventy-five-pounds\na mouth, or nine hundred pounds a year. This family bought five houses\nwithin a year, and saved a considerable sum besides. The last\ninformation we had respecting them was that the father had become a\ncontractor,--that he employed about sixty colliers and \"reddsmen,\"[1]\nand was allowed so much for every ton of coals brought to bank. The sons\nwere looking after their father's interests. They were all sober,\ndiligent, sensible men; and took a great deal of interest in the\neducation and improvement of the people in their neighbourhood.\n\n[Footnote 1: \"Reddsmen\" are the men who clear the way for the colliers.\nThey \"redd up\" the _debris_, and build up the roof (in the long wall\nsystem) as the colliery advances.]\n\nAt the same time that these two families of colliers were doing so well,\nit was very different with the majority of their fellow-workmen. These\nonly worked about three days in every week. Some spent their earnings at\nthe public-house; others took a whisky \"ploy\" at the seaside. For that\npurpose they hired all the gigs, droskies, cabs, or \"machines,\" about a\nfortnight beforehand. The results were seen, as the successive Monday\nmornings come round. The magistrate sat in the neighbouring town, where\na number of men and women, with black eyes and broken heads, were\nbrought before him for judgment. Before the time of high wages, the\nCourt-house business was got through in an hour: sometimes there was no\nbusiness at all. But when the wages were doubled, the magistrate could\nscarcely get through the business in a day. It seemed as if high wages\nmeant more idleness, more whisky, and more broken heads and faces.\n\nThese were doubtless \"roaring times\" for the colliers, who, had they\npossessed the requisite self-denial, might have made little fortunes.\nMany of the men who worked out the coal remained idle three or four days\nin the week; while those who burnt the coal, were famished and frozen\nfor want of it. The working people who were _not_ colliers, will long\nremember that period as the time of the _coal famine_. While it lasted,\nLord Elcho went over to Tranent--a village in East Lothian--to address\nthe colliers upon their thriftlessness, their idleness, and their\nattempted combinations to keep up the price of coal.\n\nHe had the moral courage--a quality much wanted in these days--to tell\nhis constituents some hard but honest truths. He argued with them about\nthe coal famine, and their desire to prolong it. They were working three\ndays a week, and idling the other days. Some of them did not do a stroke\nof work during a week or a fortnight; others were taking about a hundred\nBank holidays yearly. But what were they doing with the money they\nearned? Were they saving it for a rainy day; or, when the \"roaring\ntimes\" no longer existed, were they preparing to fall back upon the\npoor-rates? He found that in one case a man, with his two sons, was\nearning seven pounds in a fortnight. \"I should like,\" he said, \"to see\nthose Scotchmen who are in the mining business taking advantage of these\nhappy times, and endeavouring by their industry to rise from their\npresent position--to exercise self-help, to acquire property, and\npossibly to become coal masters themselves.\"\n\nIt had been said in a newspaper, that a miner was earning wages equal to\nthat of a Captain, and that a mining boy was earning wages equal to that\nof a Lieutenant in Her Majesty's service. \"I only know,\" said Lord\nElcho, \"that I have a boy who, when he first joined Her Majesty's\nservice, was an Ensign, and that his wage--to earn which, remember, he\nhad, under the purchase system, to pay five hundred pounds,--was not the\nwage you are now receiving, but the wage which you were receiving in bad\ntimes,--and that was only five shillings a day.\" It might be said that\nthe collier risks his life in earning his wages; but so does the\nsoldier; and the gallant boy to whom Lord Elcho referred, afterwards\nlost his life in the Ashantee campaign.\n\nThe times of high wages did not leave a very good impression on the\npublic mind. Prices became higher, morals became lower, and the work\ndone was badly done. There was a considerable deterioration in the\ncharacter of British workmanship. \"We began to rely too much upon the\nforeigner. Trade was to a large extent destroyed, and an enormous loss\nof capital was sustained, both by the workmen and by the masters. Lord\nAberdare was of opinion that three millions sterling were lost by _the\nworkmen alone_, during the recent strike in South Wales. One hundred and\ntwenty thousand workmen were in enforced idleness at once, and one\nhundred and fifty thousand pounds were lost every week in wages during\nthe time that they remained idle.\n\nWhat the employers think of the recent flash of \"prosperity,\" can easily\nbe imagined. But it may not be unnecessary to quote some of the\nstatements of correspondents. A large employer of labour in South\nLancashire says: \"Drunkenness increases, and personal violence is not\nsufficiently discouraged. High wages and household suffrage came upon\nthe people before education had prepared them for the change.\"\n\nIn a large iron-work near Newcastle, where the men were paid the highest\nwages for rolling plates and rails--and where they were earning between\nthree and four hundred pounds a year--the proprietors observe: \"Except\nin a few instances, we are afraid that workmen and their families spend\nmost of their earnings.\" Another employer in South Staffordshire says:\nIn the majority of cases, the men employed in the iron-work spend the\nwhole of their wages before the end of the following week. There are, of\ncourse, some exceptions; but they are, unhappily, very few.\" Another, in\nSouth Wales, says: \"As to the thrifty habits of the men, a small\nminority are careful and saving; they generally invest their money in\ncottage property. But the great majority of the men spend their money\noften before they earn it, and that in the most reckless way. Large sums\nare spent in drink: this leads to idleness; and, owing to drinking and\nidling, the works are kept short of men until about Wednesday in each\nweek, when the greater part of the most idly disposed have become\nsobered down. Of course, when wages are low, the men work more\nregularly. There is less drinking, and altogether the condition of the\nplace is healthier in every respect both in a moral and physical sense.\"\n\nAnother observer remarks, that the miners of Bilston are about six\nthousand in number, and they spend more than fifty thousand pounds\nannually in the purchase of ale and liquors. Their improvidence may be\nstudied with advantage in the Bilston Market. No other market is\nsupplied with finer poultry, or comparatively to the population, in\ngreater abundance; and this is chiefly, if not entirely, for, the\nconsumption of the labouring classes,--for the resident inhabitants, not\ndirectly associated with those classes are few in number. Sordid and\nill-favoured men may there be seen buying on Saturday, chickens, ducks,\nand geese, which they eat for supper; and in some instances, bottled\nporter and wine. Yet, so little have they beforehand in the world, that\nif the works were to stop, they would begin within a fortnight to pawn\nthe little furniture of their cottages, and their clothes, for\nsubsistence and for drink.\n\nMr. Chambers, of Edinburgh, in his description of the working classes of\nSunderland makes these remarks: \"With deep sorrow I mention that\neverywhere one tale was told. Intemperance prevails to a large extent;\ngood wages are squandered on mean indulgences; there is little care for\nthe morrow, and the workhouse is the ultimate refuge. One man, a skilled\nworker in an iron-foundry, was pointed out as having for years received\na wage of one guinea a day, or six guineas a week; he had spent all,\nmostly in drink, and was now reduced to a lower department at a pound a\nweek.\"\n\nAnother illustration occurs. A clerk at Blackburn took a house for\ntwenty pounds a year, and sublet the cellars underneath to a factory\noperative at a rental of five pounds a year. The clerk had a wife, four\nchildren, and a servant; the operative had a wife and five children. The\nclerk and his family were well dressed, their children went to school,\nand all went to church on Sundays. The operative's family went, some to\nthe factory, others to the gutter, but none to school; they were\nill-dressed, excepting on Sundays, when they obtained their clothes from\nthe pawnshop. As the Saturdays came round, the frying-pan in the cellar\nwas almost constantly at work until Monday night; and as regularly as\nThursday arrived, the bundle of clothes was sent to the pawnshop. Yet\nthe income of the upper-class family in the higher part of the house was\na hundred a year; and the income of the lower class family in the cellar\nwas fifty pounds more--that is, a hundred and fifty pounds a year!\n\nAn employer in the same neighbourhood used to say, \"I cannot afford\nlamb, salmon, young ducks and green peas, new potatoes, strawberries and\nsuch-like, until after my hands have been consuming these delicacies of\nthe season for some three or four weeks.\"\n\nThe intense selfishness, thriftlessness, and folly of these highly paid\noperatives, is scarcely credible. Exceptions are frequently taken to\ncalling the working classes \"the lower orders;\" but \"the lower orders\"\nthey always will be, so long as they indicate such sensual indulgence\nand improvidence. In cases such as these, improvidence is not only a\ngreat sin, and a feeder of sin, but it is a great _cruelty_. In the case\nof the father of a family, who has been instrumental in bringing a\nnumber of helpless beings into the world, it is heartless and selfish in\nthe highest degree to spend money on personal indulgences such as drink,\nwhich do the parent no good, and the mother and the children, through\nthe hereditary bad example, an irreparable amount of mischief. The\nfather takes sick, is thrown out of work, and his children are at once\ndeprived of the means of subsistence. The reckless parent has not even\ntaken the precaution to enter a Provident or a Benefit Society; and\nwhile he is sick, his wife and children are suffering the pangs of\nhunger. Or, he dies; and the poor creatures are thrown upon the charity\nof strangers, or on the miserable pittance wrung from the poor-rates.\n\nIt would seem to be of little use preaching up an extension of rights to\na people who are so supinely indifferent to their own well-being,--who\nare really unconcerned about their own elevation. The friends of the\nindustrious should faithfully tell them that they must exercise\nprudence, economy, and self-denial, if they would really be raised from\nselfish debasement, and become elevated to the dignity of thinking\nbeings. It is only by practising the principles of self-dependence that\nthey can achieve dignity, stability, and consideration in society; or\nthat they can acquire such influence and power as to raise them in the\nscale of social well-being.\n\nBrown, the Oxford shoemaker, was of opinion that \"a good mechanic is the\nmost independent man in the world.\" At least he ought to be such. He has\nalways a market for his skill; and if he be ordinarily diligent, sober,\nand intelligent, he may be useful, healthy, and happy. With a thrifty\nuse of his means, he may, if he earns from thirty to forty shillings a\nweek, dress well, live well, and educate his children creditably.\n\nHugh Miller never had more than twenty-four shillings a week while\nworking as a journeyman stonemason, and here is the result of his\nfifteen years' experience:--\n\n\"Let me state, for it seems to be very much the fashion to draw dolorous\npictures of the condition of the labouring classes, that from the close\nof the first year in which I worked as a journeyman until I took final\nleave of the mallet and chisel, I never knew what it was to want a\nshilling; that my two uncles, my grandfather, and the mason with whom I\nserved my apprenticeship--all working men--had had a similar experience;\nand that it was the experience of my father also. I cannot doubt that\ndeserving mechanics may, in exceptional cases, be exposed to want; but I\ncan as little doubt that the cases _are_ exceptional, and that much of\nthe suffering of the class is a consequence either of improvidence on\nthe part of the competently skilled, or of a course of trifling during\nthe term of apprenticeship, quite as common as trifling at school, that\nalways lands those who indulge in it in the hapless position of the\ninferior workman.\"\n\nIt is most disheartening to find that so many of the highest paid\nworkmen in the kingdom should spend so large a portion of their earnings\nin their own personal and sensual gratification. Many spend a third, and\nothers half their entire earnings, in drink. It would be considered\nmonstrous, on the part of any man whose lot has been cast among the\neducated classes to exhibit such a degree of selfish indulgence; and to\nspend even one-fourth of his income upon objects in which his wife and\nchildren have no share.\n\nMr. Roolmck recently asked, at a public meeting,[1] \"Why should the mail\nwho makes \u00a3200 or \u00a3300 a year by his mechanical labour, be a rude,\ncoarse, brutal fellow? There is no reason why he should be so.\n\n[Footnote 1: Meeting of the Mechanics' Institutes at Dewsbury,\nYorkshire.]\n\nWhy should he not be like a gentleman? Why should not his house be like\nmy house? When I go home from my labour, what do I find? I find a\ncheerful wife--I find an elegant, educated woman. I have a daughter; she\nis the same. Why should not you find the same happy influences at home?\nI want to know, when the working man comes from his daily labour to his\nhome, why he should not find his table spread as mine is spread; why he\nshould not find his wife well dressed, cleanly, loving, kind, and his\ndaughter the same?... We all know that many working men, earning good\nwages, spend their money in the beerhouse and in drunkenness, instead of\nin clothing their wives and families. Why should not these men spend\ntheir wages as I spend my small stipend, in intellectual pleasures, in\njoining with my family in intellectual pursuits? Why should not working\nmen, after enjoying their dinners and thanking God for what they have\ngot, turn their attention to intellectual enjoyments, instead of going\nout to get drunk in the nearest pothouse! Depend on it these things\nought to go to the heart of a working man; and he is not a friend to the\nworking man who talks to him and makes him believe that he is a great\nman in the State, and who don't tell him what are the duties of his\nposition.\"\n\nIt is difficult to account for the waste and extravagance of working\npeople. It must be the hereditary remnant of the original savage. It\nmust be a survival. The savage feasts and drinks until everything is\ngone; and then he hunts or goes to war. Or it may be the survival of\nslavery in the State. Slavery was one of the first of human\ninstitutions. The strong man made the weak man work for him. The warlike\nrace subdued the less warlike race, and made them their slaves. Thus\nslavery existed from the earliest times. In Greece and Rome the righting\nwas done by freemen, the labour by helots and bondsmen. But slavery also\nexisted in the family. The wife was the slave of her husband as much as\nthe slave whom he bought in the public market.\n\nSlavery long existed among ourselves. It existed when Caesar lauded. It\nexisted in Saxon times, when the household work was done by slaves. The\nSaxons were notorious slave-dealers, and the Irish were their best\ncustomers. The principal mart was at Bristol, from whence the Saxons\nexported large numbers of slaves into Ireland so that, according to\nIrish historians, there was scarcely a house in Ireland without a\nBritish slave in it.\n\nWhen the Normans took possession of England, they continued slavery.\nThey made slaves of the Saxons themselves whom they decreed villeins and\nbondsmen. Domesday Book shows that the toll of the market at Lewes in\nSussex was a penny for a cow, and fourpence for a slave--not a serf\n(_adscriptus glebae_), but an unconditional bondsman. From that time\nslavery continued in various forms. It is recorded of \"the good old\ntimes,\" that it was not till the reign of Henry IV. (1320--1413) that\nvilleins, farmers, and mechanics were permitted by law to put their\nchildren to school; and long after that, they dared not educate a son\nfor the Church without a licence from the lord.[1] The Kings of England,\nin their contests with the feudal aristocracy, gradually relaxed the\nslave laws. They granted charters founding Royal Burghs; and when the\nslaves fled into them, and were able to conceal themselves for a year\nand a day, they then became freemen of the burgh, and were declared by\nlaw to be free.\n\n[Footnote 1: _Henry's History of England_, Book v., chap. 4]\n\nThe last serfs in England were emancipated in the reign of Queen\nElizabeth; but the last serfs in Scotland, were not emancipated until\nthe reign of George III, at the end of last century. Before then, the\ncolliers and salters belonged to the soil. They were bought and sold\nwith it. They had no power to determine what their wages should be. Like\nthe slaves in the Southern States of America, they merely accepted such\nsustenance as was sufficient to maintain their muscles and sinews in\nworking order.\n\nThey were never required to save for any purpose, for they had no right\nto their own savings. They did not need to provide for to-morrow; their\nmasters provided for them. The habit of improvidence was thus formed;\nand it still continues. The Scotch colliers, who were recently earning\nfrom ten to fourteen shillings a day, are the grandsons of men who were\nslaves down to the end of last century. The preamble of an Act passed in\n1799 (39th Geo. III., c. 56), runs as follows: \"Whereas, before the\npassing of an Act of the fifteenth of his present Majesty, many\ncolliers, coal-bearers, and salters _were bound for life to, and\ntransferable with, the collieries and salt-works where they worked_, but\nby the said Act their bondage was taken off and they were declared to be\nfree, notwithstanding which many colliers and coalbearers and salters\nstill continue in a state of bondage from not having complied with the\nprovisions, or from having become subject to the penalties of that Act,\"\netc. The new Act then proceeds to declare them free from servitude. The\nslaves formerly earned only enough to keep them, and laid by nothing\nwhatever for the future. Hence we say that the improvidence of the\ncolliers, as of the iron-workers, is but a survival of the system of\nslavery in our political constitution.\n\nMatters have now become entirely different. The workman, no matter what\nhis trade, is comparatively free. The only slavery from which he\nsuffers, is his passion for drink. In this respect he still resembles\nthe Esquimaux and the North American Indians. Would he be really free?\nThen he must exercise the powers of a free, responsible man. He must\nexercise self-control and self-constraint,--and sacrifice present\npersonal gratifications for prospective enjoyments of a much higher\nkind. It is only by self-respect and self-control that the position of\nthe workman can be really elevated.\n\nThe working man is now more of a citizen than he ever was before. He is\na recognized power, and has been admitted within the pale of the\nconstitution. For him mechanics' institutes, newspapers, benefit\nsocieties, and all the modern agencies of civilization, exist in\nabundance. He is admitted to the domain of intellect; and, from time to\ntime, great thinkers, artists, engineers, philosophers, and poets, rise\nup from his order, to proclaim that intellect is of no rank, and\nnobility of no exclusive order. The influences of civilization are\nrousing society to its depths; and daily evidences are furnished of the\nrise of the industrious classes to a position of social power.\nDiscontent may, and does, exhibit itself; but discontent is only the\nnecessary condition of improvement; for a man will not be stimulated to\nrise up into a higher condition unless he be first made dissatisfied\nwith the lower condition out of which he has to rise. To be satisfied is\nto repose; while, to be rationally dissatisfied, is to contrive, to\nwork, and to act, with an eye to future advancement.\n\nThe working classes very much under-estimate themselves. Though they\nreceive salaries or wages beyond the average earnings of professional\nmen, yet many of them have no other thought than that of living in mean\nhouses, and spending their surplus time and money in drink. They seem\nwanting in respect for themselves as well as for their class. They\nencourage the notion that there is something degrading in labour,--than\nwhich nothing can be more false. Labour of all kinds is dignifying and\nhonourable; it is the idler, above all others, who is undignified and\ndishonourable.\n\n\"Let the working man,\" says Mr. Sterling, \"try to connect his daily\ntask, however mean, with the highest thoughts he can apprehend, and he\nthereby secures the rightfulness of his lot, and is raising his\nexistence to his utmost good. It is because the working man has failed\nto do this, and because others have failed to help him as they ought,\nthat the lot of labour has hitherto been associated with what is mean\nand degrading.\"\n\nWith respect to remuneration, the average of skilled mechanics and\nartisans, as we have already said, are better paid than the average of\nworking curates. The working engineer is better paid than the ensign in\na marching regiment. The foreman in any of our large engineering\nestablishments is better paid than an army surgeon. The rail-roller\nreceives over a guinea a day, while an assistant navy surgeon receives\nfourteen shillings, and after three years' service, twenty-one\nshillings, with rations. The majority of dissenting ministers are much\nworse paid than the better classes of skilled mechanics and artizans;\nand the average of clerks employed in counting-houses and warehouses\nreceive wages very much lower.\n\nSkilled workmen might--and, if they had the will, they would--occupy a\nsocial position as high as the educated classes we refer to. What\nprevents them rising? Merely because they will not use their leisure to\ncultivate their minds. They have sufficient money; it is culture that\nthey want. They ought to know that the position of men in society does\nnot depend so much upon their earnings, as upon their character and\nintelligence. And it is because they neglect their abundant\nopportunities,--because they are thriftless and spend their earnings in\nanimal enjoyments,--because they refuse to cultivate the highest parts\nof their nature,--that they are excluded, or rather self-excluded, from\nthose social and other privileges in which they are entitled to take\npart.\n\nNotwithstanding their high wages, they for the most part cling to the\ndress, the language, and the manners of their class. They appear, during\ntheir leisure hours, in filthy dresses, and unwashed hands. No matter\nhow skilled the workman may be, he is ready to sink his mind and\ncharacter to the lowest level of his co-workers. Even the extra money\nwhich he earns by his greater skill, often contributes to demoralize and\ndegrade him. And yet he might dress as well, live as well, and be\nsurrounded by the physical comforts and intellectual luxuries of\nprofessional men. But no! From week to week his earnings are wasted. He\ndoes not save a farthing; he is a public-house victim; and when work\nbecomes slack, and his body becomes diseased, his only refuge is the\nworkhouse.\n\nHow are these enormous evils to be cured? Some say by better education;\nothers by moral and religious instruction; others by better homes, and\nbetter wives and mothers. All these influences will doubtless contribute\nmuch towards the improvement of the people. One thing is perfectly\nclear, that an immense amount of ignorance prevails, and that such\nignorance must be dissipated before the lower classes can be elevated.\nTheir whole character must be changed, and they must be taught in early\nlife habits of forecast and self-control.\n\nWe often hear that \"Knowledge is Power;\" but we never hear that\nIgnorance is Power. And yet Ignorance has always had more power in the\nworld than Knowledge. Ignorance dominates. It is because of the evil\npropensities of men that the costly repressive institutions of modern\ngovernments exist.\n\nIgnorance arms men against each other; provides gaols and\npenitentiaries; police and constabulary. All the physical force of the\nState is provided by Ignorance; is required by Ignorance; is very often\nwielded by Ignorance. We may well avow, then, that Ignorance is Power.\n\nIgnorance is powerful, because Knowledge, as yet, has obtained access\nonly to the minds of the few. Let Knowledge become more generally\ndiffused; let the multitude become educated, thoughtful, and wise; and\nthen Knowledge may obtain the ascendancy over Ignorance. But that time\nhas not yet arrived.\n\nLook into the records of crime, and you will find that, for one man\npossessed of wisdom or knowledge who commits a crime, there are a\nhundred ignorant. Or, into the statistics of drunkenness and\nimprovidence of all sorts; still Ignorance is predominant. Or, into the\nannals of pauperism; there, again, Ignorance is Power.\n\nThe principal causes of anxiety in this country, are the social\nsuffering and disease which proceed from Ignorance. To mitigate these,\nwe form associations, organize societies, spend money, and labour in\ncommittees. But the power of Ignorance is too great for us. We almost\ndespair while we work. We feel that much of our effort is wasted. We are\noften ready to give up in dismay, and recoil from our encounter with the\npowers of evil.\n\n\"How forcible are right words!\" exclaimed Job. Yes! But, with equal\njustice, he might have said, \"How forcible are wrong words!\" The wrong\nwords have more power with ignorant minds than the right words. They fit\nthemselves into wrong heads, and prejudiced heads, and empty heads; and\nhave power over them. The right words have often no meaning for them,\nany more than if they were the words of some dead language. The wise\nman's thoughts do not reach the multitude, but fly over their heads.\nOnly the few as yet apprehend them.\n\nThe physiologist may discuss the laws of health, and the Board of Health\nmay write tracts for circulation among the people; but half the people\ncannot so much as read; and of the remaining half, but a very small\nproportion are in the habit of _thinking_. Thus the laws of health are\ndisregarded; and when fever comes, it finds a wide field to work upon:\nin undrained and filthy streets and back-yards,--noisome, pestilential\ndistricts,--foul, uncleansed dwellings,--large populations ill-supplied\nwith clean water and with pure air. There death makes fell havoc; many\ndestitute widows and children have to be maintained out of the\npoor's-rates; and then we reluctantly confess to ourselves that\nIgnorance is Power.\n\nThe only method of abating this power of Ignorance, is by increasing\nthat of Knowledge. As the sun goes up the sky, the darkness disappears;\nand the owl, the bat, and the beasts of prey, slink out of sight. Give\nthe people knowledge,--give them better education,--and thus, crime will\nbe abated,--drunkenness, improvidence, lawlessness, and all the powers\nof evil, will, to a certain extent, disappear.[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: The recent reports of Mr. Tremenheere to the Secretary of\nState for the Home Department, with respect to the condition of the\npopulation in the iron and coal districts, show that he places\nconsiderable reliance upon the effect of Education. The evidence which\nhe brought together from all parts of the country, shows that the\nincrease of immorality with the increase of wages was attributed to the\nlow tastes and desires of the people.--that the obstinate refusal of the\nmen to exert more than two-thirds of their fair powers of work, by which\nthe cost of production is largely enhanced, capital crippled, and the\npublic mulcted, was due to the same cause,--that their readiness to\nbecome the prey of unionists and agitators is traceable to their want of\nthe most elementary principles of thought,--that most of the accidents,\nwhich are of weekly occurrence, are occasioned by their stupidity and\nignorance,--that wherever they have advanced in intelligence, they have\nbecome more skilful, more subordinate, and more industrious. These facts\nhave convinced the more thoughtful and far-sighted masters, that the\nonly sure means of maintaining their ground under increasing foreign\ncompetition, and averting a social crisis, is to reform the character of\nthe rising generation of operatives by _education_,]\n\nIt must, however, be admitted that education is not enough. The clever\nman may be a clever rogue; and the cleverer he is, the cleverer rogue he\nwill be. Education, therefore, must be based upon religion and morality;\nfor education by itself will not eradicate vicious propensities. Culture\nof intellect has but little effect upon moral conduct. You may see\nclever, educated, literary men, with no conduct whatever,--wasteful,\nimprovident, drunken, and vicious. It follows, therefore, that education\nmust be based upon the principles of religion and morality.\n\nNor has the poverty of the people so much to do with their social\ndegradation as is commonly supposed. The question is essentially a moral\none. If the income of the labouring community could be suddenly doubled,\ntheir happiness will not necessarily be increased; for happiness does\nnot consist in money. In fact, the increased wages might probably prove\na curse instead of a blessing. In the case of many, there would be an\nincreased consumption of drink, with the usual results,--an increase of\ndrunken violence, and probably an increase of crime.\n\nThe late Mr. Clay, chaplain of the Preston House of Correction, after\ncharacterizing drunkenness as the GREAT SIN, proceeds: \"It still rises\nin savage hostility, against everything allied to order and religion; it\nstill barricades every avenue by which truth and peace seek to enter the\npoor man's home and heart.... Whatever may be the predominant cause of\ncrime, it is very clear that ignorance, religious ignorance, is the\nchief ingredient in the character of the criminal. This combines with\nthe passion for liquor, and offences numberless are engendered by the\nunion.\"\n\nThe late Sir Arthur Helps, when speaking of high and low wages, and of\nthe means of getting and spending money, thus expresses himself on the\nsubject, in his \"Friends in Council\":\"My own conviction is, that\nthroughout England every year there is sufficient wages given, even at\nthe present low rate, to make the condition of the labouring poor quite\ndifferent from what it is. But then these wages must be well spent. I do\nnot mean that the poor could of themselves alone effect this change; but\nwere they seconded by the advice, the instruction, and the aid (not\ngiven in money, or only in money lent to produce the current interest of\nthe day) of the classes above them, the rest the poor might accomplish\nfor themselves. And, indeed, all that the rich could do to elevate the\npoor could hardly equal the advantage that would be gained by the poor\nthemselves, if they could thoroughly subdue that one vice of\ndrunkenness, the most wasteful of all the vices.\n\n\"In the living of the poor (as indeed of all of us) there are two things\nto be considered; how to get money, and how to spend it. Now, I believe,\nthe experience of employers will bear me out in saying, that it is\nfrequently found that the man with 20s. a week does not live more\ncomfortably, or save more, than the man with 14s.,--the families of the\ntwo men being the same in number and general circumstances. It is\nprobable that unless he have a good deal of prudence and thought, the\nman who gets at all more than the average of his class does not know\nwhat to do with it, or only finds in it a means superior to that which\nhis fellows possess of satisfying his appetite for drinking.\"\n\nNotwithstanding, however, the discouraging circumstances to which we\nhave referred, we must believe that in course of time, as men's nature\nbecomes improved by education--secular, moral, and religious--they may\nbe induced to make a better use of their means, by considerations of\nprudence, forethought, and parental responsibility. A German writer\nspeaks of the education given to a child as _a capital_--equivalent to a\nstore of money--placed at its disposal by the parent. The child, when\ngrown to manhood, may employ the education, as he might employ the\nmoney, badly; but that is no argument against the possession of either.\nOf course, the value of education, as of money, chiefly consists in its\nproper use. And one of the advantages of knowledge is, that the very\nacquisition of it tends to increase the capability of using it aright;\nwhich is certainly not the case with the accumulation of money.\n\nEducation, however obtained, is always an advantage to a man. Even as a\nmeans of material advancement, it is worthy of being sought after,--not\nto speak of its moral uses as an elevator of character and intelligence.\nAnd if, as Dr. Lyon Playfair insists, the composition between industrial\nnations must before long become a competition mainly of intelligence, it\nis obvious that England must make better provision for the education of\nits industrial classes, or be prepared to fall behind in the industrial\nprogress of nations.\n\n\"It would be of little avail,\" said Dr. Brewster of Edinburgh, \"to the\npeace and happiness of society, if the great truths of the material\nworld were confined to the educated and the wise. The organization of\nscience thus limited would cease to be a blessing. Knowledge secular,\nand knowledge divine, the double current of the intellectual life-blood\nof man, must not merely descend through the great arteries of the social\nframe; it must be taken up by the minutest capillaries before it can\nnourish and purify society. Knowledge is at once the manna and the\nmedicine of our moral being. Where crime is the bane, knowledge is the\nantidote. Society may escape from the pestilence and may survive the\nfamine; but the demon of ignorance, with his grim adjutants of vice and\nriot, will pursue her into her most peaceful haunts, destroying our\ninstitutions, and converting into a wilderness the paradise of social\nand domestic life. The State has, therefore, a great duty to perform. As\nit punishes crime, it is bound to prevent it. As it subjects us to laws,\nit must teach us to read them; and while it thus teaches, it must teach\nalso the ennobling truths which display the power and the wisdom of the\ngreat Lawgiver, thus diffusing knowledge while it is extending\neducation; and thus making men contented, and happy, and humble, while\nit makes them quiet and obedient subjects.\"\n\nA beginning has already been made with public school education. Much\nstill remains to be done to establish the system throughout the empire.\nAt present we are unable to judge of the effects of what has been done.\nBut if general education accomplish as much for England as it has\nalready accomplished for Germany, the character of this country will be\nimmensely improved during the next twenty years. Education has almost\nbanished drunkenness from Germany; and had England no drunkenness, no\nthriftlessness, no reckless multiplication, our social miseries would be\ncomparatively trivial.\n\nWe must therefore believe that as intelligence extends amongst the\nworking class, and as a better moral tone pervades them, there will be a\nrapid improvement in their sober, thrifty and provident habits; for\nthese form the firmest and surest foundations for social advancement.\nThere is a growing desire, on the part of the more advanced minds in\nsociety, to see the working men take up their right position. They who\ndo society's work,--who produce, under the direction of the most\nintelligent of their number, the wealth of the nation,--are entitled to\na much higher place than they have yet assumed. We believe in this \"good\ntime coming,\" for working men and women,--when an atmosphere of\nintelligence shall pervade them--when they will prove themselves as\nenlightened, polite, and independent as the other classes of society;\nand, as the first and surest step towards this consummation, we counsel\nthem to PROVIDE--to provide for the future as well as for the\npresent--to provide, in times of youth and plenty, against the times of\nadversity, misfortune, and old age.\n\n\"If any one intends to improve his condition,\" said the late William\nFelkin, Mayor of Nottingham, himself originally a working man, \"he must\nearn all he can, spend as little as he can, and make what he does spend,\nbring him and his family all the real enjoyment he can. The first saving\nwhich a working man makes out of his earnings is the first step,--and\nbecause it is the first, the most important step towards true\nindependence. Now independence is as practicable in the case of an\nindustrious and economic, though originally poor, workman, as in that of\nthe tradesman or merchant,--and is as great and estimable a blessing.\nThe same process must be attended to,--that is, the entire expenditure\nbeing kept below the clear income, all contingent claims being carefully\nconsidered and provided for, and the surplus held sacred, to be employed\nfor those purposes, and those only, which duty or conscience may point\nout as important or desirable. This requires a course of laborious\nexertion and strict economy, a little foresight, and possibly some\nprivation. But this is only what is common to all desirable objects. And\ninasmuch as I know what it is to labour with the hands long hours, and\nfor small wages, as well as any workman to whom I address myself, and to\npractise self-denial withal, I am emboldened to declare from experience\nthat the gain of independence, or rather self-dependence, for which I\nplead, is worth infinitely more than all the cost of its attainment;\nand, moreover, that to attain it in a greater or less degree, according\nto circumstances, is within the power of by far the greater number of\nskilled workmen engaged in our manufactories.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nEXAMPLES OF THRIFT.\n\n\n\"Examples demonstrate the possibility of success.\"--_Cotton._\n\n\n_\"The force of his own merit, makes his way.\"--_Shakespeare._\n\n\"Reader, attend, whether thy soul\nSoars Fancy's flight beyond the Pole,\nOr darkling grubs this earthly hole\n                       In low pursuit--\nKnow, prudent, cautious self-control,\n                       Is wisdom's root.\"--_Burns._\n\n\"In the family, as in the State, the best source of wealth is\nEconomy.\"--_Cicero._\n\n\"Right action is the result of right faith; but a true and right faith\ncannot be sustained, deepened, extended, save in a course of right\naction.\"--_M'Combie._\n\n\nThrift is the spirit of order applied to domestic management and\norganization. Its object is to manage frugally the resources of the\nfamily; to prevent waste; and avoid useless expenditure. Thrift is under\nthe influence of reason and forethought, and never works by chance or by\nfits. It endeavours to make the most and the best of everything. It does\nnot save money for saving's sake. It makes cheerful sacrifices for the\npresent benefit of others; or it submits to voluntary privation for some\nfuture good.\n\nMrs. Inchbald, author of the \"Simple Story,\" was, by dint of thrift,\nable to set apart the half of her small income for the benefit of her\ninfirm sister. There was thus about two pounds a week for the\nmaintenance of each. \"Many times,\" she says, \"during the winter, when I\nwas crying with cold, have I said to myself, 'Thank God, my dear sister\nneed not leave her chamber; she will find her fire ready for her each\nmorning; for she is now far less able than I am to endure privation.'\"\nMrs. Inchbald's family were, for the most part very poor; and she felt\nit right to support them during their numerous afflictions. There is one\nthing that may be say of Benevolence,--that it has never ruined anyone;\nthough selfishness and dissipation have ruined thousands.\n\nThe words \"Waste not, want not,\" carved in stone over Sir Walter Scott's\nkitchen fireplace at Abbotsford, expresses in a few words the secret of\nOrder in the midst of abundance. Order is most useful in the management\nof everything,--of a household, of a business, of a manufactory, of an\narmy. Its maxim is--A place for everything, and everything in its place.\nOrder is wealth; for, whoever properly regulates the use of his income,\nalmost doubles his resources. Disorderly persons are rarely rich; and\norderly persons are rarely poor.\n\nOrder is the best manager of time; for unless work is properly arranged,\nTime is lost; and, once lost, it is gone for ever. Order illustrates\nmany important subjects. Thus, obedience to the moral and natural law,\nis order. Respect for ourselves and our neighbours, is order. Regard for\nthe rights and obligations of all, is order. Virtue is order. The world\nbegan with order. Chaos prevailed, before the establishment of order.\n\nThrift is the spirit of order in human life. It is the prime agent in\nprivate economy. It preserves the happiness of many a household. And as\nit is usually woman who regulates the order of the household, it is\nmainly upon her that the well-doing of society depends. It is therefore\nall the more necessary that she should early be educated in the habit\nand the virtue of orderliness.\n\nThe peer, the merchant, the clerk, the artizan, and the labourer, are\nall of the same nature, born with the same propensities and subject to\nsimilar influences. They are, it is true, born in different positions,\nbut it rests with themselves whether they shall live their lives nobly\nor vilely. They may not have their choice of riches or poverty; but they\nhave their choice of being good or evil,--of being worthy or worthless.\n\n\nPeople of the highest position, in point of culture and education, have\noften as great privations to endure as the average of working people.\nThey have often to make their incomes go much further. They have to keep\nup a social standing. They have to dress better; and live sufficiently\nwell for the purpose of health. Though their income may be less than\nthat of colliers and iron-workers, they are under the moral necessity of\neducating their sons and bringing them up as gentlemen, so that they may\ntake their fair share of the world's work.\n\nThus, the tenth Earl of Buchan brought up a numerous family of children,\none of whom afterwards rose to be Lord Chancellor of England, upon an\nincome not exceeding two hundred a year. It is not the amount of income,\nso much as the good use of it, that marks the true man; and viewed in\nthis light, good sense, good taste, and sound mental culture, are among\nthe best of all economists.\n\nThe late Dr. Aiton said that his father brought up a still larger family\non only half the income of the Earl of Buchan. The following dedication,\nprefixed to his work on \"Clerical Economics,\" is worthy of being\nremembered: \"This work is respectfully dedicated to a Father, now in the\neighty-third year of his age, who, on an income which never exceeded a\nhundred pounds yearly, educated, out of a family of twelve children,\nfour sons to liberal professions, and who has often sent his last\nshilling to each of them, in their turn, when they were at college.\"\n\nThe author might even cite his own case as an illustration of the\nadvantages of thrift. His mother was left a widow, when her youngest\nchild--the youngest of eleven--was only three weeks old. Notwithstanding\na considerable debt on account of a suretyship, which was paid, she\nbravely met the difficulties of her position, and perseveringly overcame\nthem. Though her income was less than that of many highly paid working\nmen, she educated her children well, and brought them up religiously and\nvirtuously. She put her sons in the way of doing well, and if they have\nnot done so, it was through no fault of hers.\n\nHume, the historian, was a man of good family; but being a younger\nbrother, his means were very small. His father died while he was an\ninfant; he was brought up by his mother, who devoted herself entirely to\nthe rearing and educating of her children. At twenty-three, young Hume\nwent to France to prosecute his studies. \"There,\" says he, in his\nAutobiography, \"I laid down that plan of life which I have steadily and\nsuccessfully pursued. I resolved to make a very rigid frugality supply\nmy deficiency of fortune, to maintain unimpaired my independency, and to\nregard every object as contemptible, except the improvement of my\ntalents in literature.\" The first book he published was a complete\nfailure. But he went on again; composed and published another book,\nwhich was a success. But he made no money by it. He became secretary to\nthe military embassy at Vienna and Turin; and at thirty-six he thought\nhimself rich. These are his own words: \"My appointments, with my\nfrugality, had made me reach a fortune which I called independent,\nthough most of my friends were inclined to smile when I said so: in\nshort, I was now master of near a thousand pounds.\" Every one knows that\na thousand pounds, at five per cent., means fifty pounds a year; and\nHume considered himself independent with that income. His friend Adam\nSmith said of him: \"Even in the lowest state of his fortune, his great\nand necessary frugality never hindered him from exercising, upon proper\noccasions, acts both of charity and generosity. It was a frugality\nfounded not on avarice, but upon the love of independency.\"\n\nBut one of the most remarkable illustrations of Thrift is to be found in\nthe history of the Rev. Robert Walker--the _Wonderful_ Robert Walker, as\nhe is still called in the district of Cumberland where he resided. He\nwas curate of Leathwaite during the greater part of last century. The\nincome of the curacy, at the time of his appointment (1735), was only\nfive pounds a year. His wife brought him a fortune of forty pounds. Is\nit possible that he could contrive to live upon his five pounds a year,\nthe interest of his wife's fortune, and the result of his labours as a\nclergyman? Yes, he contrived to do all this; and he not only lived well,\nthough plainly, but he saved money, which he left for the benefit of his\nfamily. He accomplished all this by means of industry, frugality, and\ntemperance.\n\nFirst, about his industry. He thoroughly did the work connected with his\ncuracy. The Sabbath was in all respects regarded by him as a holy day.\nAfter morning and evening service, he devoted the evening to reading the\nScriptures and family prayer. On weekdays, he taught the children of the\nparish, charging nothing for the education, but only taking so much as\nthe people chose to give him. The parish church was his school; and\nwhile the children were repeating their lessons by his side, he was,\nlike Shenstone's schoolmistress, engaged in spinning wool. He had the\nright of pasturage upon the mountains for a few sheep and a couple of\ncows, which required his attendance. With this pastoral occupation he\njoined the labours of husbandry, for he rented two or three acres of\nland in addition to his own acre of glebe, and he also possessed a\ngarden,--the whole of which was tilled by his own hand. The fuel of the\nhouse consisted of peat, procured by his labour from the neighbouring\nmosses. He also assisted his parishioners in haymaking and shearing\ntheir flocks,--in which latter art he was eminently dexterous. In\nreturn, the neighbours would present him with a haycock, or a fleece, as\na general acknowledgment of his services.\n\nAfter officiating as curate of Leathwaite for about twenty years, the\nannual value of the living was increased to seventeen pounds ten\nshillings. His character being already well known and highly\nappreciated, the Bishop of Carlisle offered Mr. Walker the appointment\nof the adjoining curacy of Ulpha; but he conscientiously refused it, on\nthe ground that the annexation \"would be apt to cause a general\ndiscontent among the inhabitants of both places, by either thinking\nthemselves slighted, being only served alternately, or neglected in the\nduty, or attributing it to covetousness in me; all which occasions of\nmurmuring I would willingly avoid.\" Yet at this time Mr. Walker had a\nfamily of eight children. He afterwards maintained one of his sons at\nTrinity College Dublin, until he was ready for taking Holy Orders.\n\nThe parish pastor was, of course, a most economical man. Yet no act of\nhis life savoured in the least degree of meanness or avarice. On the\nother hand, his conduct throughout life displayed the greatest\ndisinterestedness and generosity. He knew very little of luxuries, and\nhe cared less. Tea was only used in his house for visitors. The family\nused milk, which was indeed far better. Excepting milk, the only other\ndrink used in the house was water--clear water drawn from the mountain\nspring. The clothing of the family was comely and decent; but it was all\nhome-made: it was simple, like their diet. Occasionally one of the\nmountain sheep was killed for purposes of food; and towards the end of\nthe year, a cow was killed and salted down for provision during winter.\nThe hide was tanned, and the leather furnished shoes for the family. By\nthese and other means, this venerable clergyman reared his numerous\nfamily; not only preserving them, as he so affectingly says, \"from\nwanting the necessaries of life,\" but affording them \"an unstinted\neducation, and the means of raising themselves in society.\"[1]\n\nMany men, in order to advance themselves in the world, and to raise\nthemselves in society, have \"scorned delights and lived laborious days.\"\nThey have lived humbly and frugally, in order to accomplish greater\nthings. They have supported themselves by their hand labour, until they\ncould support themselves by their head labour. Some may allege that this\nis not justifiable--that it is a sin against the proletariat to attempt\nto rise in the world,--that \"once a cobbler always a cobbler.\" But,\nuntil a better system has been established, the self-application of\nindividuals is the only method by which science and knowledge can be\nconquered, and the world permanently advanced.\n\nGoethe says, \"It is perfectly indifferent within what circle an honest\nman acts, provided he do but know how to understand and completely fill\nout that circle;\" and again, \"An honest and vigorous will could make\nitself a path and employ its activity to advantage under every form of\nsociety.\" \"What is the best government?\" he asks: \"That which teaches us\nto govern ourselves!\" All that we need, in his opinion, is individual\nliberty, and self-culture. \"Let every one,\" he says, \"only do the right\nin his place, without troubling himself about the turmoil of the world.\"\n\n[Footnote 1: The best account of Mr. Walker is to be found in the\nAppendix to the Poems of Wordsworth. The poet greatly appreciated the\nclergyman's character, and noticed him in his \"Excursion,\" as well as in\nthe Notes to the Sonnets entitled \"The River Duddon.\"]\n\nAt all events, it is not by socialism, but by individualism, that\nanything has been done towards the achievement of knowledge, and the\nadvancement of society. It is the will and determination of individual\nmen that impels the world forward in art, in science, and in all the\nmeans and methods of civilization.\n\nIndividual men are willing to deny themselves, but associated\ncommunities will not. The masses are too selfish, and fear that\nadvantage will be taken of any sacrifices which they may be called upon\nto make. Hence it is amongst the noble band of resolute spirits that we\nlook for those who raise and elevate the world, as well as themselves.\nThe recollection of what they have done, acts as a stimulus to others.\nIt braces the mind of man, reanimates his will, and encourages him to\nfurther exertions.\n\nWhen Lord Elcho addressed the East Lothian colliers, he named several\nmen who had raised themselves from the coalpit; and first of all he\nreferred to Mr. Macdonald, member for Stafford. \"The beginning of my\nacquaintance with Mr. Macdonald,\" he said, \"was, when I was told that a\nminer wanted to see me in the lobby of the House of Commons. I went out\nand saw Mr. Macdonald, who gave me a petition from this district, which\nhe asked me to present. I entered into conversation with him, and was\nmuch struck by his intelligence. He told me that he had begun life as a\nboy in the pit in Lanarkshire, and that the money he saved as a youth in\nthe summer, he spent at Glasgow University in the winter; and that is\nwhere he got whatever book-learning or power of writing he possesses. I\nsay that is an instance that does honour to the miners of Scotland.\nAnother instance was that of Dr. Hogg, who began as a pitman in this\ncounty; worked in the morning, attended school in the afternoon; then\nwent to the University for four years and to the Theological Hall for\nfive years; and afterwards, in consequence of his health failing, he\nwent abroad, and is now engaged as a missionary in Upper Egypt. Or take\nthe case of Mr. (now Sir George) Elliot, member for North Durham, who\nhas spoken up for the miners all the better, for having had practical\nknowledge of their work. He began as a miner in the pit, and he worked\nhis way up till he has in his employment many thousand men. He has risen\nto his great wealth and station from the humblest position; as every man\nwho now hears me is capable of doing, to a greater or less degree, if he\nwill only be thrifty and industrious.\"\n\nLord Elcho might also have mentioned Dr. Hutton, the geologist, a man of\na much higher order of genius; who was the son of a coal-viewer. Bewick,\nthe wood engraver, is also said to have been the son of a coal-miner.\nDr. Campbell was the son of a Loanhead collier: he was the forerunner of\nMoffat and Livingstone, in their missionary journeys among the Bechuanas\nin South Africa. Allan Ramsay, the poet, was also the son of a miner.\n\nGeorge Stephenson worked his way from the pithead to the highest\nposition as an engineer. George began his life with industry, and when\nhe had saved a little money, he spent it in getting a little learning.\nWhat a happy man he was, when his wages were increased to twelve\nshillings a week. He declared upon that occasion that he was \"made a man\nfor life!\" He was not only enabled to maintain himself upon his\nearnings, but to help his poor parents, and to pay for his own\neducation. When his skill had increased, and his wages were advanced to\na pound a week, he immediately began, like a thoughtful, intelligent\nworkman, to lay by his surplus money; and when he had saved his first\nguinea, he proudly declared to one of his colleagues that he \"was now a\nrich man!\"\n\nAnd he was right. For the man who, after satisfying his wants, has\nsomething to spare, is no longer poor. It is certain that from that day\nStephenson never looked back; his advance as a self-improving man was as\nsteady as the light of sunrise. A person of large experience has indeed\nstated that he never knew, amongst working people, a single instance of\na man having out of his small earnings laid by a pound, who had in the\nend become a pauper.\n\nWhen Stephenson proposed to erect his first locomotive, he had not\nsufficient means to defray its cost. But in the course of his life as a\nworkman, he had established a character. He was trusted. He was\nfaithful. He was a man who could be depended on. Accordingly, when the\nEarl of Havensworth was informed of Stephenson's desire to erect a\nlocomotive, he at once furnished him with the means for enabling him to\ncarry his wishes into effect.\n\nWatt, also, when inventing the condensing steam-engine, maintained\nhimself by making and selling mathematical instruments. He made flutes,\norgans, compasses,--anything that would maintain him, until he had\ncompleted his invention. At the same time he was perfecting his own\neducation--learning French, German, mathematics, and the principles of\nnatural philosophy. This lasted for many years; and by the time that\nWatt developed his steam-engine and discovered Mathew Boulton, he had,\nby his own efforts, become an accomplished and scientific man.\n\nThese great workers did not feel ashamed of labouring with their hands\nfor a living; but they also felt within themselves the power of doing\nhead-work as well as hand-work. And while thus labouring with their\nhands, they went on with their inventions, the perfecting of which has\nproved of so much advantage to the world. Hugh Miller furnished, in his\nown life, an excellent instance of that practical common sense in the\nbusiness of life which he so strongly recommended to others. When he\nbegan to write poetry, and felt within him the growing powers of a\nliterary man, he diligently continued his labour as a stone-cutter.\n\nHorace Walpole has said that Queen Caroline's patronage of Stephen Duck,\nthe thresher poet, ruined twenty men, who all turned poets. It was not\nso with the early success of Hugh Miller. \"There is no more fatal\nerror,\" he says, \"into which a working man of a literary turn can fall,\nthan the mistake of deeming himself too good for his humble employments;\nand yet it is a mistake as common as it is fatal. I had already seen\nseveral poor wrecked mechanics, who, believing themselves to be poets,\nand regarding the manual occupation by which they could alone live in\nindependence as beneath them, and become in consequence little better\nthan mendicants,--too good to work for their bread, but not too good\nvirtually to beg it; and looking upon them as beacons of warning, I\ndetermined that, with God's help, I should give their error a wide\noffing, and never associate the idea of meanness with an honest calling,\nor deem myself too good to be independent.\"\n\nAt the same time, a man who feels that he has some good work in him,\nwhich study and labour might yet bring out, is fully justified in\ndenying himself, and in applying his energies to the culture of his\nintellect. And it is astonishing how much carefulness, thrift, the\nreading of books, and diligent application, will help such men onward.\n\nThe author in his boyhood knew three men who worked in an agricultural\nimplement maker's shop. They worked in wood and iron, and made carts,\nploughs, harrows, drilling-machines, and such-like articles. Somehow or\nother, the idea got into their heads that they might be able to do\nsomething better than making carts and harrows. They did not despise the\nlot of hand-labour, but they desired to use it as a step towards\nsomething better. Their wages at that time could not have exceeded from\neighteen to twenty shillings a week.\n\nTwo of the young men, who worked at the same bench, contrived to save\nenough money to enable them to attend college during the winter. At the\nend of each session they went back to their hand-labour, and earned\nenough wages during the summer to enable them to return to their classes\nduring the winter. The third did not adopt this course. He joined a\nmechanics' institute which had just been started in the town in which he\nlived. By attending the lectures and reading the books in the library,\nhe acquired some knowledge of chemistry, of the principles of mechanics,\nand of natural philosophy. He applied himself closely, studied hard in\nhis evening hours, and became an accomplished man.\n\nIt is not necessary to trace their history; but what they eventually\narrived at, may be mentioned. Of the first two, one became the teacher\nand proprietor of a large public school; the other became a well-known\ndissenting minister; while the third, working his way strenuously and\nbravely, became the principal engineer and manager of the largest\nsteamship company in the world.\n\nAlthough mechanics' institutes are old institutions, they have scarcely\nbeen supported by working men. The public-house is more attractive and\nmore frequented. And yet mechanics' institutes--even though they are\nscarcely known south of Yorkshire and Lancashire--have been the means of\ndoing a great deal of good. By placing sound mechanical knowledge within\nthe reach of even the few persons who have been disposed to take\nadvantage of them, they have elevated many persons into positions of\ngreat social influence. \"We have heard a distinguished man say publicly,\nthat a mechanics' institution had _made him_; that but for the access\nwhich it had afforded him to knowledge of all kinds, he would have\noccupied a very different position. In short, the mechanics' institution\nhad elevated him from the position of a licensed victualler to that of\nan engineer.\n\nWe have referred to the wise practice of men in humble position\nmaintaining themselves by their trade until they saw a way towards\nmaintaining themselves by a higher calling. Thus Herschell maintained\nhimself by music, while pursuing his discoveries in astronomy. When\nplaying the oboe in the pump-room at Bath, he would retire while the\ndancers were lounging round the room, go out and take a peep at the\nheavens through his telescope, and quietly return to his instrument. It\nwas while he was thus maintaining himself by music, that he discovered\nthe Georgium Sidus. When the Royal Society recognized his discovery, the\noboe-player suddenly found himself famous.\n\nFranklin long maintained himself by his trade of printing. He was a\nhard-working man,--thrifty, frugal and a great saver of time. He worked\nfor character as much as for wages; and when it was found that he could\nbe relied on, he prospered. At length he was publicly recognized as a\ngreat statesman, and as one of the most scientific men of his time.\n\nFerguson, the astronomer, lived by portrait painting, until his merits\nas a scientific man were recognized. John Dollond maintained himself as\na silk weaver in Spitalfields. In the course of his studies he made\ngreat improvements in the refracting telescope; and the achromatic\ntelescope, which he invented, gave him a high rank among the\nphilosophers of his age. But during the greater part of his life, while\nhe was carrying on his investigations, he continued, until the age of\nforty-six, to carry on his original trade. At length he confined himself\nentirely to making telescopes; and then he gave up his trade of a silk\nweaver. Winckelmann, the distinguished writer on classical antiquities\nand the fine arts, was the son of a shoemaker. His father endeavoured,\nas long as he could, to give his hoy a learned education; but becoming\nill and worn-out, he had eventually to retire to the hospital.\nWinckelmann and his father were once accustomed to sing at night in the\nstreets to raise fees to enable the boy to attend the grammar school.\nThe younger Winckelmann then undertook, by hard labour, to support his\nfather; and afterwards, by means of teaching, to keep himself at\ncollege. Every one knows how distinguished he eventually became.\n\nSamuel Richardson, while writing his novels, stuck to his trade of a\nbookseller. He sold his books in the front shop, while he wrote them in\nthe back. He would not give himself up to authorship, because he loved\nhis independence. \"You know,\" he said to his friend Defreval, \"how my\nbusiness engages me. You know by what snatches of time I write, that I\nmay not neglect that, and that I may preserve that independency which is\nthe comfort of my life. I never sought out of myself for patrons. My own\nindustry and God's providence have been my whole reliance. The great are\nnot great to me unless they are good, and it is a glorious privilege\nthat a middling man enjoys, who has preserved his independency, and can\noccasionally (though not stoically) tell the world what he thinks of\nthat world, in hopes to contribute, though by his mite, to mend it.\"\n\nThe late Dr. Olynthus Gregory, in addressing the Deptford Mechanics'\nInstitution at their first anniversary, took the opportunity of\nmentioning various men in humble circumstances (some of whom he had been\nable to assist), who, by means of energy, application, and self-denial,\nhad been able to accomplish great things in the acquisition of\nknowledge. Thus he described the case of a Labourer on the turnpike\nroad, who had become an able Greek scholar; of a Fifer, and a Private\nSoldier, in a regiment of militia, both self-taught mathematicians, one\nof whom became a successful schoolmaster, the other a lecturer on\nnatural philosophy; of a journeyman Tin-plate worker, who invented rules\nfor the solution of cubic equations; of a country Sexton, who became a\nteacher of music, and who, by his love of the study of musical science,\nwas transformed from a drunken sot to an exemplary husband and father;\nof a Coal Miner (a correspondent of Dr. Gregory's), who was an able\nwriter on topics of the higher mathematics; of another correspondent, a\nlabouring Whitesmith, who was also well acquainted with the course of\npure mathematics, as taught at Cambridge, Dublin, and the military\ncolleges; of a Tailor, who was an excellent geometrician, and had\ndiscovered curves which escaped the notice of Newton, and who laboured\nindustriously and contentedly at his trade until sixty years of age,\nwhen, by the recommendation of his scientific friends, he was appointed\nNautical Examiner at the Trinity House; of a ploughman in Lincolnshire,\nwho, without aid of men or books, discovered the rotation of the earth,\nthe principles of spherical astronomy, and invented a planetary system\nakin to the Tychonic; of a country Shoemaker, who became distinguished\nas one of the ablest metaphysical writers in Britain, and who, at more\nthan fifty years of age, was removed by the influence of his talents and\ntheir worth, from his native country to London, where he was employed to\nedit some useful publications devoted to the diffusion of knowledge and\nthe best interests of mankind.\n\nStudents of Art have had to practise self-denial in many ways. Quentin\nMatsys, having fallen in love with a painter's daughter, and determined\nto win her. Though but a blacksmith and a farrier, he studied art so\ndiligently, and acquired so much distinction, that his mistress\nafterwards accepted the painter whom she had before rejected as the\nblacksmith. Flaxman, however, married his wife before he had acquired\nany distinction whatever as an artist. He was merely a skilful and\npromising pupil. When Sir Joshua Reynolds heard of his marriage, he\nexclaimed, \"Flaxman is ruined for an artist!\" But it was not so. When\nFlaxman's wife heard of the remark, she said, \"Let us work and\neconomize; I will never have it said that Ann Denbam ruined John Flaxman\nas an artist.\" They economized accordingly. To earn money, Flaxman\nundertook to collect the local rates; and what with art and industry,\nthe patient, hard-working, thrifty couple, after five years of careful\nsaving, set out for Rome together. There Flaxman studied and worked;\nthere he improved his knowledge of art; and there he acquired the\nreputation of being the first of English sculptors.\n\nThe greater number of artists have sprung from humble life. If they had\nbeen born rich, they would probably never have been artists. They have\nhad to work their way from one position to another; and to strengthen\ntheir nature by conquering difficulty. Hogarth began his career by\nengraving shop-bills. William Sharp began by engraving door-plates.\nTassie the sculptor and medallist, began life as a stone-cutter. Having\naccidentally seen a collection of pictures, he aspired to become an\nartist and entered an academy to learn the elements of drawing. He\ncontinued to work at his old trade until he was able to maintain himself\nby his new one. He used his labour as the means of cultivating his skill\nin his more refined and elevated profession.\n\nChantry of Sheffield, was an economist both of time and money. He saved\nfifty pounds out of his earnings as a carver and gilder; paid the money\nto his master, and cancelled his indentures. Then he came up to London,\nand found employment as a journeyman carver; he proceeded to paint\nportraits and model busts, and at length worked his way to the first\nposition as a sculptor.\n\nCanova was a stone-cutter, like his father and his grandfather; and\nthrough stone-cutting he worked his way to sculpture. After leaving the\nquarry, he went to Venice, and gave his services to an artist, from whom\nhe received but little recompense for his work. \"I laboured,\" said he,\n\"for a mere pittance, but it was sufficient. It was the fruit of my own\nresolution; and, as I then flattered myself, the foretaste of more\nhonourable rewards,--for I never thought of wealth.\" He pursued his\nstudies,--in drawing and modelling; in languages, poetry, history,\nantiquity, and the Greek and Roman classics. A long time elapsed before\nhis talents were recognised, and then he suddenly became famous.\n\nLough, the English sculptor, is another instance of self-denial and hard\nwork. When a boy, he was fond of drawing. At school, he made drawings of\nhorses, dogs, cows, and men, for pins: that was his first pay; and he\nused to go home with his jacket sleeve stuck full of them. He and his\nbrothers next made figures in clay. Pope's Homer lay on his father's\nwindow. The boys were so delighted with it, that they made thousands of\nmodels--one taking the Greeks, and the other the Trojans. An odd volume\nof Gibbon gave an account of the Coliseum. After the family were in bed,\nthe brothers made a model of the Coliseum, and filled it with fighting\ngladiators. As the boys grew up, they were sent to their usual outdoor\nwork, following the plough and doing the usual agricultural labour; but\nstill adhering to their modelling at leisure hours. At Christmas-time,\nLough was very much in demand. Everybody wanted him to make models in\npastry for Christmas pies,--the neighbouring farmers especially, \"It was\ncapital practice,\" he afterwards said.\n\nAt length Lough went from Newcastle to London, to push his way in the\nworld of art. He obtained a passage in a collier, the skipper of which\nhe knew. When he reached London, he slept on board the collier as long\nas it remained in the Thames. He was so great a favourite with the men,\nthat they all urged him to go back. He had no friends, no patronage, no\nmoney; What could he do with everything against him? But, having already\ngone so far, he determined to proceed. He would not go back--at least,\nnot yet. The men all wept when he took farewell of them. He was alone in\nLondon; under the shadow of St. Paul's.\n\nHis next step was to take a lodging in an obscure first floor in\nBurleigh Street, over a greengrocer's shop; and there he began to model\nhis grand statue of Milo. He had to take the roof off to let Milo's head\nout. There Haydon found him, and was delighted with his genius. \"I\nwent,\" he says, \"to young Lough, the sculptor, who has just burst out,\nand has produced a great effect. His Milo is really the most\nextraordinary thing, considering all the circumstances, in modern\nsculpture. It is another proof of the efficacy of inherent genius.\" [1]\nThat Lough must have been poor enough at this time, is evident from the\nfact that, during the execution of his Milo, he did not eat meat for\nthree months; and when Peter Coxe found him out, he was tearing up his\nshirt to make wet rags for his figure, to keep the clay moist. He had a\nbushel and a half of coals during the whole winter; and he used to lie\ndown by the side of his clay model of the immortal figure, damp as it\nwas, and shiver for hours till he fell asleep.\n\n[Footnote 1: Haydon's _Autobiography_, vol. ii., p, 155.]\n\nChantrey once said to Haydon, \"When I have made money enough, I will\ndevote myself to high art.\" But busts engrossed Chantrey's time. He was\nmunificently paid for them, and never raised himself above the\nmoney-making part of his profession. When Haydon next saw Chantrey at\nBrighton, he said to him, \"Here is a young man from the country, who has\ncome to London; and he is doing precisely what you have so long been\ndreaming of doing.\"\n\nThe exhibition of Milo was a great success. The Duke of Wellington went\nto see it, and ordered a statue. Sir Matthew White Eidley was much\nstruck by the genius of young Lough, and became one of his greatest\npatrons. The sculptor determined to strike out a new path for himself.\nHe thought the Greeks had exhausted the Pantheistic, and that heathen\ngods had been overdone. Lough began and pursued the study of lyric\nsculpture: he would illustrate the great English poets. But there was\nthe obvious difficulty of telling the story of a figure by a single\nattitude. It was like a flash of thought. \"The true artist,\" he said,\n\"must plant his feet firmly on the earth, and sweep the heavens with his\npencil. I mean,\" he added, \"that the soul must be combined with the\nbody, the ideal with the real, the heavens with the earth.\"\n\nIt is not necessary to describe the success of Mr. Lough as a sculptor.\nHis statue of \"The Mourners\" is known all over the world. He has\nillustrated Shakespeare and Milton. His Puck, Titania, and other great\nworks, are extensively known, and their genius universally admired. But\nit may be mentioned that his noble statue of Milo was not cast in bronze\nuntil 1862, when it was exhibited at the International Exhibition of\nthat year.\n\nThe Earl of Derby, in recently distributing the prizes to the successful\npupils of the Liverpool College[1], made the following observations:--\n\n\"The vast majority of men, in all ages and countries, must work before\nthey can eat. Even those who are not under the necessity, are, in\nEngland, generally impelled by example, by custom, perhaps by a sense of\nwhat is fitted for them, to adopt what is called an active pursuit of\nsome sort.... If there is one thing more certain than another, it is\nthis--that every member of a community is bound to do something for that\ncommunity, in return for what he gets from it; and neither intellectual\ncultivation, nor the possession of material wealth, nor any other plea\nwhatever, except that of physical or mental incapacity, can excuse any\nof us from that plain and personal duty.... And though it may be, in a\ncommunity like this, considered by some to be a heterodox view, I will\nsay that it often appears to me, in the present day, that we are a\nlittle too apt in all classes to look upon ourselves as mere machines\nfor what is called 'getting on,' and to forget that there are in every\nhuman being many faculties which cannot be employed, and many wants\nwhich cannot be satisfied, by that occupation. I have not a word to\nutter against strenuous devotion to business while you are at it. But\none of the wisest and most thoroughly cultivated men whom I ever knew,\nretired before the age of fifty, from a profession in which he was\nmaking an enormous income, because, he said, he had got as much as he or\nany one belonging to him could want, and he did not see why he should\nsacrifice the rest of his life to money-getting. Some people thought him\nvery foolish. I did not. And I believe that the gentleman of whom I\nspeak never once repented his decision.\"\n\n[Footnote 1: A collection ought to be made and published of Lord Derby's\nadmirable Addresses to Young Men.]\n\nThe gentleman to whom Lord Derby referred was Mr. Nasmyth, the inventor\nof the steam hammer. And as he has himself permitted the story of his\nlife to be published, there is no necessity for concealing his name. His\nlife is besides calculated to furnish one of the best illustrations of\nour subject. When a boy, he was of a bright, active, cheerful\ndisposition. To a certain extent he inherited his mechanical powers from\nhis father, who, besides being an excellent painter, was a thorough\nmechanic. It was in his workshop that the boy made his first\nacquaintance with tools. He also had for his companion the son of an\niron-founder, and he often went to the founder's shop to watch the\nmoulding, iron-melting, casting, forging, pattern-making, and smith's\nwork that was going on.\n\n\"I look back,\" Mr. Nasmyth says, \"to the hours of Saturday afternoons\nspent in having the run of the workshops of this small foundry as the\ntrue and only apprenticeship of my life. I did not trust to reading\nabout such things. I saw, handled, and helped when I could; and all the\nideas in connection with them became in all details, ever after,\npermanent in my mind,--to say nothing of the no small acquaintance\nobtained at the same time of the nature of workmen.\"\n\nIn course of time, young Nasmyth, with the aid of his father's tools,\ncould do little jobs for himself. He made steels for tinder-boxes, which\nhe sold to his schoolfellows. He made model steam-engines, and sectional\nmodels, for use at popular lectures and in schools; and by selling such\nmodels, he raised sufficient money to enable him to attend the lectures\non Natural Philosophy and Chemistry at the Edinburgh University. Among\nhis works at that time, was a working model of a steam carriage for use\non common roads. It worked so well that he was induced to make another\non a larger scale. After having been successfully used, he sold the\nengine for the purpose of driving a small factory.\n\nNasmyth was now twenty years old, and wished to turn his practical\nfaculties to account. His object was to find employment in one of the\ngreat engineering establishments of the day. The first, in his opinion,\nwas that of Henry Maudslay, of London. To attain his object, he made a\nsmall steam-engine, every part of which was his own handiwork, including\nthe casting and forging. He proceeded to London; introduced himself to\nthe great engineer; submitted his drawings; showed his models; and was\nfinally engaged as Mr. Maudslay's private workman.\n\nThen came the question of wages. When Nasmyth finally left home to begin\nthe world on his own account, he determined _not to cost his father\nanother farthing_. Being the youngest of eleven children, he thought\nthat he could maintain himself, without trenching farther upon the\nfamily means. And he nobly fulfilled his determination. He felt that the\nwages sufficient to maintain other workmen, would surely be sufficient\nto maintain him. He might have to exercise self-control and self-denial;\nbut of course he could do that. Though but a youth, he had wisdom enough\nand self-respect enough to deny himself everything that was unnecessary,\nin order to preserve the valuable situation which he had obtained.\n\nWell, about the wages. When Mr. Maudslay referred his young workman to\nthe chief cashier as to his weekly wages, it was arranged that Nasmyth\nwas to receive ten shillings a week. He knew that, by strict economy, he\ncould live within this amount. He contrived a small cooking apparatus,\nof which we possess the drawings. It is not necessary to describe his\nmethod of cooking, nor his method of living; it is sufficient to say\nthat his little cooking apparatus (in which he still takes great pride)\nenabled him fully to accomplish his purpose. He lived within his means,\nand did not cost his father another farthing.\n\nNext year his wages were increased to fifteen shillings. He then began\nto save money. He did not put it in a bank, but used his savings for the\npurpose of making the tools with which he afterwards commenced business.\nIn the third year of his service, his wages were again increased, on\naccount, doubtless, of the value of his services. \"I don't know,\" he has\nsince said, \"that any future period of my life abounded in such high\nenjoyment of existence as the three years I spent at Maudslay's. It was\na glorious situation for one like myself,--so earnest as I was in all\nthat related to mechanism--in the study of men as well as of machinery.\nI wish many a young man would do as I then did. I am sure they would\nfind their reward in that feeling of constant improvement, of daily\nadvancement, and true independence, which will ever have a charm for\nthose who are earnest in their endeavours to make right progress in life\nand in the regard of all good men.\"\n\nAfter three years spent at Maudslay's, Mr. Nasmyth returned to Edinburgh\nto construct a small stock of engineering tools suitable for starting\nhim in business on his own account. He hired a workshop and did various\nengineering jobs, in order to increase his little store of money and to\nexecute his little stock of tools. This occupied him for two years; and\nin 1834 he removed the whole of his tools and machinery to Manchester.\nHe began business there in a very humble way, but it increased so\nrapidly that he was induced to remove to a choice piece of land on the\nbanks of the Bridgewater Canal at Patricroft, and there make a\nbeginning--at first in wooden sheds--of the now famous Bridgewater\nFoundry.\n\n\"There,\" says he, \"I toiled right heartily until December 31st, 1856,\nwhen I retired to enjoy, in _active_ leisure, the result of many an\nanxious and interesting day. I had there, with the blessing of God,\ndevoted the best years of my life to the pursuit of a business of which\nI was proud. And I trust that, without undue vanity, I may be allowed to\nsay that I have left my mark upon several useful inventions, which\nprobably have had no small share in the mechanical works of the age.\nThere is scarcely a steamship or locomotive that is not indebted to my\nsteam hammer; and without it, Armstrong and Whitworth guns and\niron-plated men-of-war could scarcely have existed.\"\n\nBut though Nasmyth retired from business at the age of forty-eight, he\ndid not seek repose in idleness. He continues to be as busy as the\nbusiest; but in an altogether different direction. Instead of being tied\nto the earth, he enjoys himself amongst the stars. By means of\ntelescopes of his own making, he has investigated the sun, and\ndiscovered its \"willow leaves;\" he has examined and photographed the\nmoon, and in the monograph of it which he has published, he has made us\nfully acquainted with its geography. He is also a thorough artist, and\nspends a considerable portion of his time in painting,--though he is too\nmodest to exhibit. The last time we visited his beautiful home at\nHammerfield, he was busy polishing glasses for one of his new\ntelescopes,--the motive power being a windmill erected on one of his\nouthouses.\n\nAnother word before we have done. \"If,\" said Nasmyth, \"I were to try to\ncompress into one sentence the whole of the experience I have had during\nan active and successful life, and offer it to young men as a rule and\ncertain receipt for success in any station, it would be composed in\nthese words--'Duty _first!_ Pleasure _second!_' From what I have seen of\nyoung men and their after-progress, I am satisfied that what is\ngenerally termed 'bad fortune,' 'ill luck,' and 'misfortune,' is in nine\ncases out of ten, simply the result of _inverting_ the above simple\nmaxim. Such experience as I have had, convinces me that absence of\nsuccess arises in the great majority of cases from want of self-denial\nand want of common sense. The worst of all maxims is 'Pleasure _first!_\nWork and Duty _second!_\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nMETHODS OF ECONOMY.\n\n\n\"It was with profound wisdom that the Romans called by the same name\ncourage and virtue. There is in fact no virtue, properly so called,\nwithout victory over ourselves; and what cost us nothing, is worth\nnothing.\"--_De Maistre_.\n\n\"Almost all the advantages which man possesses above the inferior\nanimals, arise from his power of acting in combination with his fellows;\nand of accomplishing by the united efforts of numbers what could not be\naccomplished by the detached efforts of indivduals.\"--_J.S. Mill_.\n\n\"For the future, our main security will be in the wider diffusion of\nProperty, and in all such measures as will facilitate this result. With\nthe possession of property will come Conservative instincts, and\ndisinclination for rash and reckless schemes.... We trust much,\ntherefore, to the rural population becoming Proprietors, and to the\nurban population becoming Capitalists.\"--_W.R. Greg_.\n\n\nThe methods of practising economy are very simple. Spend less than you\nearn. That is the first rule. A portion should always be set apart for\nthe future. The person who spends more than he earns, is a fool. The\ncivil law regards the spendthrift as akin to the lunatic, and frequently\ntakes from him the management of his own affairs.\n\nThe next rule is to pay ready money, and never, on any account, to run\ninto debt. The person who runs into debt is apt to get cheated; and if\nhe runs into debt to any extent, he will himself be apt to get\ndishonest. \"Who pays what he owes, enriches himself.\"\n\nThe next is, never to anticipate uncertain profits by expending them\nbefore they are secured. The profits may never come, and in that case\nyou will have taken upon yourself a load of debt which you may never get\nrid of. It will sit upon your shoulders like the old man in Sinbad.\n\nAnother method of economy is, to keep a regular account of all that you\nearn, and of all that you expend. An orderly man will know beforehand\nwhat he requires, and will be provided with the necessary means for\nobtaining it. Thus his domestic budget will be balanced; and his\nexpenditure kept within his income.\n\nJohn Wesley regularly adopted this course. Although he possessed a small\nincome, he always kept his eyes upon the state of his affairs. A year\nbefore his death, he wrote with a trembling hand, in his Journal of\nExpenses; \"For more than eighty-six years I have kept my accounts\nexactly. I do not care to continue to do so any longer, having the\nconviction that I economize all that I obtain, and give all that I\ncan,--that is to say, all that I have.\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: Southey's _Life of Wesley_, vol. ii., p. 560.]\n\nBesides these methods of economy, the eye of the master or the mistress\nis always necessary to see that nothing is lost, that everything is put\nto its proper use and kept in its proper place, and that all things are\ndone decently and in order. It does no dishonour to even the highest\nindividuals to take a personal interest in their own affairs. And with\npersons of moderate means, the necessity for the eye of the master\noverlooking everything, is absolutely necessary for the proper conduct\nof business.\n\nIt is difficult to fix the precise limits of economy. Bacon says that if\na man would live well within his income, he ought not to expend more\nthan one-half, and save the rest. This is perhaps too exacting; and\nBacon himself did not follow his own advice. What proportion of one's\nincome should be expended on rent? That depends upon circumstances. In\nthe country about one-tenth; in London about one-sixth. It is at all\nevents better to save too much, than spend too much. One may remedy the\nfirst defect, but not so easily the latter. Wherever there is a large\nfamily, the more money that is put to one side and saved, the better.\n\nEconomy is necessary to the moderately rich, as well as to the\ncomparatively poor man. Without economy, a man cannot be generous. He\ncannot take part in the charitable work of the world. If he spends all\nthat he earns, he can help nobody. He cannot properly educate his\nchildren, nor put them in the way of starting fairly in the business of\nlife. Even the example of Bacon shows that the loftiest intelligence\ncannot neglect thrift without peril. But thousands of witnesses daily\ntestify, that men even of the most moderate intelligence, can practise\nthe virtue with success.\n\nAlthough Englishmen are a diligent, hard-working, and generally\nself-reliant race, trusting to themselves and their own efforts for\ntheir sustenance and advancement in the world, they are yet liable to\noverlook and neglect some of the best practical methods of improving\ntheir position, and securing their social well-being. They are not yet\nsufficiently educated to be temperate, provident, and foreseeing. They\nlive for the present, and are too regardless of the coming time. Men who\nare husbands and parents, generally think they do their duty if they\nprovide for the hour that is, neglectful of the hour that is to come.\nThough industrious, they are improvident; though money-making, they are\nspendthrift. They do not exercise forethought enough, and are defective\nin the virtue of prudent economy.\n\nMen of all classes are, as yet, too little influenced by these\nconsiderations. They are apt to live beyond their incomes,--at all\nevents, to live up to them, The upper classes live too much for display;\nthey must keep up their \"position in society;\" they must have fine\nhouses, horses, and carriages; give good dinners, and drink rich wines,\ntheir ladies must wear costly and gay dresses. Thus the march of\nimprovidence goes on over broken hearts, ruined hopes, and wasted\nambitions.\n\nThe vice descends in society,--the middle classes strive to ape the\npatrician orders; they flourish crests, liveries, and hammercloths;\ntheir daughters must learn \"accomplishments\"--see \"society\"--ride and\ndrive--frequent operas and theatres. Display is the rage, ambition\nrivalling ambition; and thus the vicious folly rolls on like a tide. The\nvice again descends. The working classes, too, live up to their\nmeans--much smaller means, it is true; but even when they are able, they\nare not sufficiently careful to provide against the evil day; and then\nonly the poorhouse offers its scanty aid to protect them against want.\n\nTo save money for avaricious purposes is altogether different from\nsaving it for economical purposes. The saving may be accomplished in the\nsame manner--by wasting nothing, and saving everything. But here the\ncomparison ends. The miser's only pleasure is in saving. The prudent\neconomist spends what he can afford for comfort and enjoyment, and saves\na surplus for some future time. The avaricious person makes gold his\nidol: it is his molten calf, before which he constantly bows down;\nwhereas the thrifty person regards it as a useful instrument, and as a\nmeans of promoting his own happiness and the happiness of those who are\ndependent upon him. The miser is never satisfied. He amasses wealth that\nhe can never consume, but leaves it to be squandered by others, probably\nby spendthrifts; whereas the economist aims at securing a fair share of\nthe world's wealth and comfort, without any thought of amassing a\nfortune.\n\nIt is the duty of all persons to economize their means,--of the young as\nwell as of the old. The Duke of Sully mentions, in his Memoirs, that\nnothing contributed more to his fortune than the prudent economy which\nhe practised, even in his youth, of always preserving some ready money\nin hand for the purpose of meeting circumstances of emergency. Is a man\nmarried? Then the duty of economy is still more binding. His wife and\nchildren plead to him most eloquently. Are they, in the event of his\nearly death, to be left to buffet with the world unaided? The hand of\ncharity is cold, the gifts of charity are valueless, compared with the\ngains of industry, and the honest savings of frugal labour, which carry\nwith them blessings and comforts, without inflicting any wound upon the\nfeelings of the helpless and bereaved. Let every man, therefore, who\ncan, endeavour to economize and to save; not to hoard, but to nurse his\nlittle savings, for the sake of promoting the welfare and happiness of\nhimself while here, and of others when he has departed.\n\nThere is a dignity in the very effort to save with a worthy purpose,\neven though the attempt should not be crowned with eventual success. It\nproduces a well-regulated mind; it gives prudence a triumph over\nextravagance; it gives virtue the mastery over vice; it puts the\npassions under control; it drives away care; it secures comfort. Saved\nmoney, however little, will serve to dry up many a tear--will ward off\nmany sorrows and heartburnings, which otherwise might prey upon us.\nPossessed of a little store of capital, a man walks with a lighter\nstep--his heart beats more cheerily. When interruption of work or\nadversity happens, he can meet them; he can recline on his capital,\nwhich will either break his fall, or prevent it altogether. By\nprudential economy, we can realize the dignity of man; life will be a\nblessing, and old age an honour. We can ultimately, under a kind\nProvidence, surrender life, conscious that we have been no burden upon\nsociety, but rather, perhaps, an acquisition and ornament to it;\nconscious, also, that as we have been independent, our children after\nus, by following our example, and availing themselves of the means we\nhave left behind us, will walk in like manner through the world in\nhappiness and independence.\n\nEvery man's first duty is, to improve, to educate, and elevate\nhimself--helping forward his brethren at the same time by all reasonable\nmethods. Each has within himself the capability of free will and free\naction to a large extent; and the fact is proved by the multitude of men\nwho have successfully battled with and overcome the adverse\ncircumstances of life in which they have been placed; and who have risen\nfrom the lowest depths of poverty and social debasement, as if to prove\nwhat energetic man, resolute of purpose, can do for his own elevation,\nprogress, and advancement in the world. Is it not a fact that the\ngreatness of humanity, the glory of communities, the power of nations,\nare the result of trials and difficulties encountered and overcome?\n\nLet a man resolve and determine that he will advance, and the first step\nof advancement is already made. The first step is half the battle. In\nthe very fact of advancing himself, he is in the most effectual possible\nway advancing others. He is giving them the most eloquent of all\nlessons--that of example; which teaches far more emphatically than words\ncan teach. He is doing, what others are by imitation incited to do.\nBeginning with himself, he is in the most emphatic manner teaching the\nduty of self-reform and of self-improvement; and if the majority of men\nacted as he did, how much wiser, how much happier, how much more\nprosperous as a whole, would society become. For, society being made up\nof units, will be happy and prosperous, or the reverse, exactly in the\nsame degree as the respective individuals who compose it.\n\nComplaints about the inequality of conditions are as old as the world.\nIn the \"Economy\" of Xenophon, Socrates asks, \"How is it that some men\nlive in abundance, and have something to spare, whilst others can\nscarcely obtain the necessaries of life, and at the same time run into\ndebt?\" \"The reason is,\" replied Isomachus, \"because the former occupy\nthemselves with their business, whilst the latter neglect it.\"\n\nThe difference between men consists for the most part in intelligence,\nconduct, and energy. The best character never works by chance, but is\nunder the influence of virtue, prudence, and forethought.\n\nThere are, of course, many failures in the world. The man who looks to\nothers for help, instead of relying on himself, will fail. The man who\nis undergoing the process of perpetual waste, will fail. The miser, the\nscrub, the extravagant, the thriftless, will necessarily fail. Indeed,\nmost people fail because they do not deserve to succeed. They set about\ntheir work in the wrong way, and no amount of experience seems to\nimprove them. There is not so much in luck as some people profess to\nbelieve. Luck is only another word for good management in practical\naffairs. Richelieu used to say that he would not continue to employ an\nunlucky man,--in other words, a man wanting in practical qualities, and\nunable to profit by experience; for failures in the past are very often\nthe auguries of failures in the future.\n\nSome of the best and ablest of men are wanting in tact. They will\nneither make allowance for circumstances, nor adapt themselves to\ncircumstances: they will insist on trying to drive their wedge the broad\nend foremost. They raise walls only to run their own heads against. They\nmake such great preparations, and use such great precautions, that they\ndefeat their own object,--like the Dutchman mentioned by Washington\nIrving, who, having to leap a ditch, went so far back to have a good run\nat it, that when he came up he was completely winded, and had to sit\ndown on the wrong side to recover his breath.\n\nIn actual life, we want things done, not preparations for doing them;\nand we naturally prefer the man who has definite aims and purposes, and\nproceeds in the straightest and shortest way to accomplish his object,\nto the one who describes the thing to be done, and spins fine phrases\nabout doing it. Without action, words are mere maundering.\n\nThe desire for success in the world, and even for the accumulation of\nmoney, is not without its uses. It has doubtless been implanted in the\nhuman heart for good rather than for evil purposes. Indeed the desire to\naccumulate, forms one of the most powerful instruments for the\nregeneration of society. It provides the basis for individual energy and\nactivity. It is the beginning of maritime and commercial enterprise. It\nis the foundation of industry, as well as of independence. It impels men\nto labour, to invent, and to excel.\n\nNo idle nor thriftless man ever became great. It is amongst those who\nnever lost a moment, that we find the men who have moved and advanced\nthe world,--by their learning, their science, or their inventions.\nLabour of some sort is one of the conditions of existence. The thought\nhas come down to us from pagan times, that \"Labour is the price which\nthe gods have set upon all that is excellent.\" The thought is also\nworthy of Christian times.\n\nEverything depends, as we shall afterwards find, upon the uses to which\naccumulations of wealth are applied. On the tombstone of John Donough,\nof New Orleans, the following maxims are engraved as the merchant's\nguide to young men on their way through life:--\n\n\"Remember always that labour is one of the conditions of our existence.\n\n\"Time is gold; throw not one minute away, but place each one to\naccount.\n\n\"Do unto all men as you would be done by.\n\n\"Never put off till to-morrow what can be done to-day.\n\n\"Never bid another do what you can do yourself.\n\n\"Never covet what is not your own.\n\n\"Never think any matter so trifling as not to deserve notice.\n\n\"Never give out what does not come in.\n\n\"Do not spend, but produce.\n\n\"Let the greatest order regulate the actions of your life.\n\n\"Study in your course of life to do the greatest amount of good.\n\n\"Deprive yourself of nothing that is necessary to your comfort, but\nlive in honourable simplicity and frugality.\n\n\"Labour then to the last moment of your existence.\"\n\nMost men have it in their power, by prudent arrangements, to defend\nthemselves against adversity, and to throw up a barrier against\ndestitution. They can do this by their own individual efforts, or by\nacting on the principle of co-operation, which is capable of an almost\nindefinite extension. People of the most humble condition, by combining\ntheir means and associating together, are enabled in many ways to defend\nthemselves against the pressure of poverty, to promote their physical\nwell-being, and even to advance the progress of the nation.\n\nA solitary individual may be able to do very little to advance and\nimprove society; but when he combines with his fellows for the purpose,\nhe can do a very great deal. Civilization itself is but the effect of\ncombining. Mr. Mill has said that \"almost all the advantages which man\npossesses over the inferior animals, arise from his power of acting in\ncombination with his fellows, and of accomplishing, by the united\nefforts of numbers, what could not be accomplished by the detached\nefforts of individuals.\"\n\nThe secret of social development is to be found in co-operation; and the\ngreat question of improved economical and social life can only receive a\nsatisfactory solution through its means. To effect good on a large\nscale, men must combine their efforts; and the best social system is\nthat in which the organization for the common good is rendered the most\ncomplete in all respects.\n\nThe middle classes have largely employed the principle of association.\nNo class has risen so rapidly, or done more by their energy and industry\nto advance the power and progress of England. And why? Because the most\nactive have always been the most ready to associate, to co-operate, and\nto combine. They have combined when they were attacked, combined when\nthey had an abuse to destroy, or a great object to accomplish. They have\nassociated together to manufacture articles of commerce, to make canals,\nto construct railways, to form gas companies, to institute insurance and\nbanking companies, and to do an immense amount of industrial work. By\ncombining their small capitals together, they have been able to\naccumulate an enormous aggregate capital, and to execute the most\ngigantic undertakings.\n\nThe middle classes have accomplished more by the principle of\nco-operation than the classes who have so much greater need of it. All\nthe joint stock companies are the result of association. The railways,\nthe telegraphs, the banks, the mines, the manufactories, have for the\nmost part been established and are carried on by means of the savings of\nthe middle classes.\n\nThe working classes have only begun to employ the same principle. Yet\nhow much might they accomplish by its means! They might co-operate in\nsaving as well as in producing. They might, by putting their saved\nearnings together, become, by combination, their own masters. Within a\nfew years past, many millions sterling have been expended in strikes for\nwages. A hundred millions a year are thrown away upon drink and other\nunnecessary articles. Here is an enormous capital. Men who expend or\nwaste such an amount can easily become capitalists. It requires only\nwill, energy, and self-denial. So much money spent on buildings, plant,\nand steam-engines, would enable them to manufacture for themselves,\ninstead of for the benefit of individual capitalists. The steam-engine\nis impartial in its services. It is no respecter of persons; it will\nwork for the benefit of the labourer as well as for the benefit of the\nmillionaire. It will work for those who make the best use of it, and who\nhave the greatest knowledge of its powers.\n\nThe greater number of workmen possess little capital save their labour;\nand, as we have already seen, many of them uselessly and wastefully\nspend most of their earnings, instead of saving them and becoming\ncapitalists. By combining in large numbers for the purposes of\neconomical working, they might easily become capitalists, and operate\nupon a large scale. As society is now constituted, every man is not only\njustified but bound in duty as a citizen, to accumulate his earnings by\nall fair and honourable methods, with the view of securing a position of\nultimate competence and independence.\n\nWe do not say that men should save and hoard their gains for the mere\nsake of saving and hoarding; this would be parsimony and avarice. But we\ndo say that all men ought to aim at accumulating a sufficiency--enough\nto maintain them in comfort during the helpless years that are to\ncome--to maintain them in times of sickness and of sorrow, and in old\nage, which, if it does come, ought to find them with a little store of\ncapital in hand, sufficient to secure them from dependence upon the\ncharity of others.\n\nWorkmen are for the most part disposed to associate; but the association\nis not always of a healthy kind. It sometimes takes the form of Unions\nagainst masters; and displays itself in the Strikes that are so common,\nand usually so unfortunate. Workmen also strike against men of their own\nclass, for the purpose of excluding them from their special calling. One\nof the principal objects of trades-unions is to keep up wages at the\nexpense of the lower paid and unassociated working people. They\nendeavour to prevent poorer men learning their trade, and thus keep the\nsupply of labour below the demand.[1] This system may last for a time,\nbut it becomes ruinous in the end.\n\n[Footnote 1: On the 31st January, 1875, a labourer in the employment of\nMessrs. Vickers, Sheffield, who had not served an apprenticeship, was\nput on to turn one of the lathes. This being contrary to the rules of\nthe union, the men in the shop struck work. It is a usual course for men\nof the union to \"strike\" in this manner against persons of their own\ncondition, and to exercise a force not resting in law or natural right,\nbut merely on the will of a majority, and directly subversive of the\nfreedom of the individual.]\n\nIt is not the want of money that prevents skilled workmen from becoming\ncapitalists, and opening the door for the employment of labouring men\nwho are poorer and less skilled than themselves. The work-people threw\naway half a million sterling during the Preston strike, after which they\nwent back to work at the old terms. The London building trades threw\naway over three hundred thousand pounds during their strike; and even\nhad they obtained the terms for which they struck, it would have taken\nsix years to recoup them for their loss. The colliers in the Forest of\nDean went back to work at the old terms after eleven weeks' play, at the\nloss of fifty thousand pounds. The iron-workers of Northumberland and\nDurham, after spending a third of the year in idleness, and losing two\nhundred thousand pounds in wages, went back to work at a reduction of\nten per cent. The colliers and iron-workers of South Wales, during the\nrecent strike or lock-out, were idle for four months, and, according to\nLord Aberdare, lost, in wages alone, not less than three millions\nsterling!\n\nHere, then, is abundance of money within the power of\nworking-men,--money which they might utilize, but do not. Think only of\na solitary million, out of the three millions sterling which they threw\naway during the coal strike, being devoted to the starting of\ncollieries, or iron-mills, or manufactories, to be worked by\nco-operative production for the benefit of the operatives themselves.\nWith frugal habits, says Mr. Greg, the well-conditioned workman might in\nten years easily have five hundred pounds in the bank; and, combining\nhis savings with twenty other men similarly disposed, they might have\nten thousand pounds for the purpose of starting any manufacture in which\nthey are adepts.[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: \"The annual expenditure of the working classes alone, on\ndrink and tobacco, is not less than \u00a360,000,000. Every year, therefore,\nthe working classes have it in their power to become capitalists\n(_simply by saving wasteful and pernicious expenditure_) to an extent\nwhich would enable them to start at least 500 cotton mills, or coal\nmines, or iron works, _on their own account_, or to purchase at least\n500,000 acres, and so set up 50,000 families each with a nice little\nestate of their own of ten acres, on fee simple. No one can dispute the\nfacts. No one can deny the inference.\"--_Quarterly Review,_ No. 263.]\n\nThat this is not an impracticable scheme, is capable of being easily\nproved. The practice of co-operation has long been adopted by workpeople\nthroughout England. A large proportion of the fishery industry has been\nconducted on that principle for hundreds of years. Fishermen join in\nbuilding, rigging, and manning a boat; the proceeds of the fish they\ncatch at sea is divided amongst them--so much to the boat, so much to\nthe fishermen. The company of oyster-dredgers of Whitstable \"has existed\ntime out of mind,\"[2] though it was only in 1793 that they were\nincorporated by Act of Parliament. The tin-miners of Cornwall have also\nacted on the same principle. They have mined, washed, and sold the tin,\ndividing the proceeds among themselves in certain proportions,--most\nprobably from the time that the Phoenicians carried away the produce to\ntheir ports in the Mediterranean.\n\n[Footnote 2: Reports on the Paris Universal Exhibition, 1867, vol. vi.,\np. 252.]\n\nIn our own time, co-operation has been practised to a considerable\nextent. In 1795, the Hull Anti-Mill Industrial Society was founded. The\nreasons for its association are explained in the petition addressed to\nthe Mayor and Aldermen of Hull by the first members of the society. The\npetition begins thus: \"We, the poor inhabitants of the said town, have\nlately experienced much trouble and sorrow in ourselves and families, on\nthe occasion of the exorbitant price of flour; and though the price is\nmuch reduced at present, yet we judge it needful to take every\nprecaution to preserve ourselves from the invasions of covetous and\nmerciless men in future.\" They accordingly entered into a subscription\nto build a mill, in order to supply themselves with flour. The\ncorporation granted their petition, and supported them by liberal\ndonations. The mill was built, and exists to this day. It now consists\nof more than four thousand members, each holding a share of twenty-five\nshillings. The members belong principally to the labouring classes. The\nmillers endeavoured by action at law to put down the society, but the\nattempt was successfully resisted. The society manufactures flour, and\nsells it to the members at market price, dividing the profits annually\namongst the shareholders, according to the quantity consumed in each\nmember's family. The society has proved eminently remunerative.\n\nMany years passed before the example of the \"poor inhabitants\" of Hull\nwas followed. It was only in 1847 that the co-operators of Leeds\npurchased a flour-mill, and in 1850 that those of Rochdale did the same;\nsince which time they have manufactured flour for the benefit of their\nmembers. The corn-millers of Leeds attempted to undersell the Leeds\nIndustrial Society. They soon failed, and the price of flour was\npermanently reduced. The Leeds mill does business amounting to more than\na hundred thousand pounds yearly; its capital amounts to twenty-two\nthousand pounds; and it paid more than eight thousand pounds of profits\nand bonuses to its three thousand six hundred members in 1866, besides\nsupplying them with flour of the best quality. The Rochdale District\nCo-operative Corn-mill Society has also been eminently successful. It\nsupplies flour to consumers residing within a radius of about fifteen\nmiles round Rochdale[1]. It also supplies flour to sixty-two\nco-operative societies, numbering over twelve thousand members. Its\nbusiness in 1866 amounted to two hundred and twenty-four thousand\npounds, and its profits to over eighteen thousand pounds.\n\n[Footnote 1: Its history is given in the Reports above referred to, p.\n269.]\n\nThe Rochdale Corn-mill grew out of the Rochdale Equitable Pioneers\nSociety, which formed an epoch in the history of industrial co-operative\ninstitutions. The Equitable Pioneers Society was established in the year\n1844, at a time when trade was in a very bad condition, and working\npeople generally were heartless and hopeless as to their future state.\nSome twenty-eight or thirty men, mostly flannel weavers, met and formed\nthemselves into a society for the purpose of economizing their hard-won\nearnings. It is pretty well known that working-men generally pay at\nleast ten per cent. more for the articles they consume, than they need\nto do under a sounder system. Professor Fawcett estimates their loss at\nnearer twenty per cent. than ten per cent. At all events, these\nworking-men wished to save this amount of profit, which before went into\nthe pockets of the distributers of the necessaries,--in other words,\ninto the pockets of the shopkeepers.\n\nThe weekly subscription was twopence each; and when about fifty-two\ncalls of twopence each had been made, they found that they were able to\nbuy a sack of oatmeal, which they distributed at cost-price amongst the\nmembers of the society. The number of members grew, and the\nsubscriptions so increased, that the society was enabled to buy tea,\nsugar, and other articles, and distribute them amongst the members at\ncost-price. They superseded the shopkeepers, and became their own\ntradesmen. They insisted from the first on payments in cash. No credit\nwas given.\n\nThe society grew. It established a store for the sale of food, firing,\nclothes, and other necessaries. In a few years the members set on foot\nthe Co-operative Corn-mill. They increased the capital by the issue of\none-pound shares, and began to make and sell clothes and shoes. They\nalso sold drapery. But the principal trade consisted in the purchase and\nsale of provisions--butchers' meat, groceries, flour, and such-like.\nNotwithstanding the great distress during the period of the cotton\nfamine, the society continued to prosper. From the first, it set apart a\nportion of its funds for educational purposes, and established a\nnews-room, and a library, which now contains over six thousand volumes.\n\nThe society continued to increase until it possessed eleven branches for\nthe sale of goods and stores in or near Rochdale, besides the original\noffice in Toad Lane. At the end of 1866, it had 6,246 members, and a\ncapital of \u00a399,908. Its income for goods sold and cash received during\nthe year was \u00a3249,122; and the gross profit \u00a331,931.\n\nBut this was not all. Two and a half per cent. was appropriated from the\nnet profits to support the news-rooms and library; and there are now\neleven news and reading rooms at different places in or near the town\nwhere the society carries on its business; the sum devoted to this\nobject amounting to over seven hundred pounds per annum. The members\nplay at chess and draughts, and use the stereoscopic views, microscopes,\nand telescopes placed in the libraries. No special arrangements have\nbeen made to promote temperance; but the news-rooms and library exercise\na powerful and beneficial influence in promoting sobriety. It has been\nsaid that the society has done more to remove drunkenness from Rochdale\nthan all that the advocates of temperance have been able to effect.\n\nThe example of the Rochdale Pioneers has exercised a powerful influence\non working-men throughout the northern counties of England. There is\nscarcely a town or village but has a co-operative institution of one\nkind or another. These societies have promoted habits of saving, of\nthrift, and of temperance. They have given the people an interest in\nmoney matters, and enabled them to lay out their earnings to the best\nadvantage. They have also given the working people some knowledge of\nbusiness; for the whole of their concerns are managed by committees\nselected at the general meetings of the members.\n\nOne of the most flourishing co-operative societies is that established\nat Over Darwen. The society has erected a row of handsome buildings in\nthe centre of the town. The shops for the sale of provisions, groceries,\nclothing, and other necessaries, occupy the lower story. Over the shops\nare the library, reading rooms, and class rooms, which are open to the\nmembers and their families. The third story consists of a large public\nhall, which is used for lectures, concerts, and dances. There are six\nbranches of the society established in different parts of the town. A\nlarge amount of business is done, and the profits are very considerable.\nThese are divided amongst the members, in proportion to the purchases\nmade by them. The profits are for the most part re-invested in\njoint-stock paper-mills, cotton-mills, and collieries, in the\nneighbourhood of Darwen. One of the most praiseworthy features of the\nsociety is the provision made for the free education of the members and\ntheir families. Two and a half per cent. of the profits are appropriated\nfor the purpose. While inspecting the institution a few months ago, we\nwere informed that the Science classes were so efficiently conducted,\nthat one of the pupils had just obtained a Government Scholarship of\nfifty pounds a year, for three years, including free instruction at the\nSchool of Mines, Jermyn Street, London, with a free use of the\nlaboratories during that period. There are also two other co-operative\ninstitutions in the same place; and we were informed that the working\npeople of Darwen are, for the most part, hard-working, sober, and\nthrifty.\n\nThe example has also spread into Scotland and the south of England. At\nNorthampton, a co-operative society exists for the purpose of buying and\nselling leather, and also for the manufacture of boots and shoes. At\nPadiham and other places in Lancashire, co-operative cotton-mills have\nbeen established. The Manchester and Salford Equitable Co-operative\nSociety \"combine the securities and facilities of a bank with the\nprofits of a trade.\" But the business by which they mostly thrive, is by\nthe purchase and sale of food, provisions, groceries, draperies, and\nother articles, with the exception of intoxicating liquors.\n\nThe sole secret of their success consists in \"ready money.\" They give no\ncredit. Everything is done for cash; the profit of the trade being\ndivided amongst the members. Every business man knows that cash payment\nis the soundest method of conducting business. The Rochdale Pioneers\nhaving discovered the secret, have spread it amongst their class. In\ntheir \"advice to members of this and other societies,\" they say: \"Look\nwell after money matters. Buy your goods as much as possible in the\nfirst markets; or if you have the produce of your industry to sell,\ncontrive, if possible, to sell it in the last. Never depart from the\nprinciple of buying and selling for ready money. Beware of long\nreckonings.\" In short, the co-operative societies became tradesmen on a\nlarge scale; and, besides the pureness of the food sold, their profit\nconsisted in the discount for cash payments, which was divided amongst\nthe members.\n\nLand and Building Societies constitute another form of co-operation.\nThese are chiefly supported by the minor middle-class men, but also to a\nconsiderable extent by the skilled and thrifty working-class men. By\ntheir means portions of land are bought, and dwelling-houses are built.\nBy means of a building society, a person who desires to possess a house\nenters the society as a member, and instead of paying his rent to the\nlandlord, pays his subscriptions and interest to a committee of his\nfriends; and in course of time, when his subscriptions are paid up, the\nhouse is purchased, and conveyed to him by the society. The\nbuilding-society is thus a savings bank, where money accumulates for a\ncertain purpose. But even those who do not purchase a house, receive a\ndividend and bonus on their shares, which sometimes amounts to a\nconsiderable sum.\n\nThe accumulation of property has the effect which it always has upon\nthrifty men; it makes them steady, sober, and diligent. It weans them\nfrom revolutionary notions, and makes them conservative. When workmen,\nby their industry and frugality, have secured their own independence,\nthey will cease to regard the sight of others' well-being as a wrong\ninflicted on themselves; and it will no longer be possible to make\npolitical capital out of their imaginary woes.\n\nIt has been said that Freehold Land Societies, which were established\nfor political objects, had the effect of weaning men from political\nreform. They were first started in Birmingham, for the purpose of\nenabling men to buy land, and divide it into forty-shilling freeholds,\nso that the owners might become electors and vote against the corn-laws.\nThe corn-laws have been done away with; but the holders of freehold land\nstill exist, though many of them have ceased to be politicians. \"Mr.\nArthur Ryland informs me,\" said Mr. Holyoake, in a recent paper on\nBuilding Societies, \"that in Birmingham, numbers of persons under the\ninfluence of these societies have forsaken patriotism for profits. And I\nknow both co-operators and Chartists who were loud-mouthed for social\nand political reform, who now care no more for it than a Whig\ngovernment; and decline to attend a public meeting on a fine night,\nwhile they would crawl like the serpent in Eden, through a gutter in a\nstorm, after a good security. They have tasted land, and the gravel has\ngot into their souls.\"\n\n\"Yet to many others,\" he adds, \"these societies have taught a healthy\nfrugality they never else would have known; and enabled many an\nindustrious son to take to his home his poor old father--who expected\nand dreaded to die in the workhouse--and set him down to smoke his pipe\nin the sunshine in the garden, of which the land and the house belonged\nto his child.\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: Paper read at York Meeting of the National Society for\nPromoting Social Science, 26th Sept. 1864.]\n\nThe Leeds Permanent Building Society, which has furnished healthy\ntenements for about two hundred families, sets forth the following\nrecommendations of the influence which it has exercised amongst the\nworking classes of that town: \"It is truly cheering to hear the members\nthemselves, at occasional meetings tell how, from small savings hitherto\ndeemed too little for active application, they began to invest in the\nsociety: then to build or buy; then to advance in life, and come to\ncompetence, from extending their savings in this manner.... The\nprovident habits and knowledge thus induced are most beneficial to the\nmembers. And the result is, that the careless become thoughtful, and, on\nsaving, become orderly, respectable, propertied, and in every way better\ncitizens, neighbours, and more worthy and comfortable. The employment of\nmoney in this useful direction encourages trade, advances prices and\nwages, comforts the working classes, and at the same time provides the\nmeans of home enjoyments, without which such advances would be\ncomparatively useless, and certainly uncertain.\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: Letter of Mr. John Holmes, in Reports of Paris Universal\nExhibition, 1867 vol. vi., p. 240.]\n\nThere are also exceptional towns and villages in Lancashire where large\nsums of money have been saved by the operatives for buying or building\ncomfortable cottage dwellings. Last year Padiham saved about fifteen\nthousand pounds for this purpose, although its population is only about\n8,000. Burnley has also been very successful. The Building Society there\nhas 6,600 investors, who saved last year \u00a3160,000 or an average of\ntwenty-four pounds for each investor. The members consist principally of\nmill operatives, miners, mechanics, engineers, carpenters, stonemasons,\nand labourers. They also include women, both married and unmarried. Our\ninformant states that \"great numbers of the working classes have\npurchased houses in which to live. They have likewise bought houses as a\nmeans of investment. The building society has assisted in hundreds of\nthese cases, by advancing money on mortgage,--such mortgages being\nrepaid by easy instalments.\"\n\nBuilding Societies are, on the whole, among the most excellent methods\nof illustrating the advantages of Thrift. They induce men to save money\nfor the purpose of buying their own homes; in which, so long as they\nlive, they possess the best of all securities.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nECONOMY IN LIFE ASSURANCE.\n\n\n\"Do not, for one repulse, forego the purpose\nThat you resolved to effect.\"--_Shakespeare_.\n\n\"We are helpers, fellow-creatures,\nOf the right against the wrong.\"--_E. Barrett_.\n\n\"Life was not given us to be all used up in the pursuit of what we must\nleave behind us when we die.\"--_Joseph May_.\n\n\"Le bonheur ou le malheur de la vielillesse n'est souvent que l'extrait\nde notre vie pass\u00e9e.\" (The blessedness or misery of old age is often but\nthe extract of our past life.) _De Maistre_.\n\n\nTwo other methods of co-operative saving remain to be mentioned. The\nfirst is by Life Assurance, which enables widows and children to be\nprovided for at the death of the assured; and the second is by Friendly\nSocieties, which enable working men to provide themselves with relief in\nsickness, and their widows and orphans with a small sum at their death.\nThe first method is practised by the middle and upper classes; and the\nsecond by the working classes.\n\nIt might possibly take a long time to save enough money to provide for\nthose who are dependent upon us; and there is always the temptation to\nencroach upon the funds set apart for death, which--as most people\nsuppose--may be a far-distant event. So that saving bit by bit, from\nweek to week, cannot always be relied upon.\n\nThe person who joins an assurance society is in a different position.\nHis annual or quarterly saving becomes at once a portion of a general\nfund, sufficient to realize the intention of the assured. At the moment\nthat he makes his first payment, his object is attained. Though he die\non the day after his premium has been paid, his widow and children will\nreceive the entire amount of his assurance.\n\nThis system, while it secures a provision to his survivors, at the same\ntime incites a man to the moral obligation of exorcising foresight and\nprudence, since through its means these virtues may be practised, and\ntheir ultimate reward secured. Not the least of the advantages attending\nlife assurance is the serenity of mind which attends the provident man\nwhen lying on a bed of sickness, or when he is in prospect of death,--so\nunlike that painful anxiety for the future welfare of a family, which\nadds poignancy to bodily suffering, and retards or defeats the power of\nmedicine. The poet Burns, in writing to a friend a few days before his\ndeath, said that he was \"still the victim of affliction. Alas! Clark, I\nbegin to fear the worst. Burns' poor widow, and half a dozen of his dear\nlittle ones helpless orphans;--there, I am weak as a woman's tear.\nEnough of this,--_'tis half my disease_!\"\n\nLife assurance may be described as a joint-stock plan for securing\nwidows, and children from want. It is an arrangement by means of which a\nlarge number of persons agree to lay by certain small sums called\n\"premiums,\" yearly, to accumulate at interest, as in a savings bank,\nagainst the contingency of the assurer's death,--when the amount of the\nsum subscribed for is forthwith handed over to his survivors. By this\nmeans, persons possessed of but little capital, though enjoying regular\nwages or salaries, however small, may at once form a fund for the\nbenefit of their family at death.\n\nWe often hear of men who have been diligent and useful members of\nsociety, dying and leaving their wives and families in absolute poverty.\nThey have lived in respectable style, paid high rents for their houses,\ndressed well, kept up good visiting acquaintance, were seen at most\nplaces of amusement, and brought up their children with certain ideas of\nsocial position and respectability; but death has stricken them down,\nand what is the situation of their families? Has the father provided for\ntheir future? From twenty to twenty-five pounds a year, paid into an\nAssurance Society, would have secured their widows and orphans against\nabsolute want. Have they performed this duty? No--they have done nothing\nof the kind; it turns out that the family have been living up to their\nmeans, if not beyond them, and the issue is, that they are thrown\nsuddenly bankrupt upon the world.\n\nConduct such as this is not only thoughtless and improvident, but\nheartless and cruel in the last degree. To bring a family into the\nworld, give them refined tastes, and accustom them to comforts, the loss\nof which is misery, and then to leave the family to the workhouse, the\nprison, or the street--to the alms of relatives, or to the charity of\nthe public,--is nothing short of a crime done against society, as well\nas against the unfortunate individuals who are the immediate sufferers.\n\nIt will be admitted, that the number of men who can lay by a sufficient\nstore of capital for the benefit of their families, is, in these times\nof intense competition, comparatively small. Perhaps the claims of an\nincreasing family absorb nearly all their gains, and they find that the\nsum which they can put away in the bank is so small, that it is not put\naway at all. They become reckless of ever attaining so apparently\nhopeless an object as that of an accumulation of savings, for the\nbenefit of their families at death.\n\nTake the case of a married man with a family. He has begun business, and\nthinks that if his life were spared, he might in course of years be able\nto lay by sufficient savings to provide for his wife and family at his\ndeath. But life is most uncertain, and he knows that at any moment he\nmay be taken away,--leaving those he holds most dear comparatively\ndestitute. At thirty he determines to join a sound life office. He\ninsures for five hundred pounds, payable to his survivors at his death,\nand pays from twelve to thirteen pounds yearly. From the moment on which\nhe pays that amount, the five hundred pounds are secured for his family,\nalthough he died the very next day.\n\nNow, if he had deposited this twelve or thirteen pounds yearly in a\nbank, or employed it at interest, it would have taken about twenty years\nbefore his savings would have amounted to five hundred pounds. But by\nthe simple and beautiful expedient of life assurance, these twenty-six\nyears of the best part of his life are, on this account at least,\nsecured against anxiety and care. The anticipation of future evil no\nlonger robs him of present enjoyment. By means of his annual fixed\npayment--which decreases according to the profits of the society--he is\nsecure of leaving a fixed sum at his death for the benefit of his\nfamily.\n\nIn this way, life assurance may be regarded in the light of a contract,\nby which the inequalities of life are to a certain extent averaged and\ncompensated, so that those who die soon--or rather their\nfamilies--become sharers in the good fortune of those who live beyond\nthe average term of life. And even should the assurer himself live\nbeyond the period at which his savings would have accumulated to more\nthan the sum insured, he will not be disposed to repine, if he takes\ninto account his exemption from corroding solicitude during so many\nyears of his life.\n\nThe reasons which induce a man to insure his house and stock of goods\nagainst the accident of fire, ought to be still more imperative in\ninducing him to insure his life against the accident of disease and the\ncontingency of sudden death. What is worldly prudence in the one case,\nis something more in the other; it has superadded to it the duty of\nproviding for the future maintenance of a possibly widowed wife, and\norphaned children; and no man can justly stand excused who neglects so\ngreat and binding an obligation. Is it an obligation on the part of a\nhusband and father to provide daily bread for his wife and children\nduring his life? Then it is equally an obligation on his part to provide\nmeans for their adequate support in event of his death. The duty is so\nobvious, the means of performing it are so simple, and are now so easily\nplaced within the reach of all men,--the arrangement is so eminently\npractical, rational, benevolent, and just,--it is, moreover, so\ncalculated to increase every wise and prudent man's sense of\nself-respect, and to encourage him in the performance of all proper\nsocial duties,--that we cannot conceive of any possible objection that\ncan be urged against it; and it is only to be regretted that the\npractice is not far more general and customary than it is, amongst all\nclasses of the community.[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: It may be mentioned that the total amount assured in\nexisting British offices, mostly by the middle classes, is about three\nhundred and fifty millions sterling; and that the annual premiums\npayable amount to not less than eleven millions sterling. And yet no\nmore than one person in twenty of the persons belonging to the classes\nto whom Life Assurance is especially applicable, have yet availed\nthemselves of its benefits.]\n\nThe Friendly or Benefit Societies of the working classes are also\nCo-operative Societies under another form. They cultivate the habit of\nprudent self-reliance amongst the people, and are consequently worthy of\nevery encouragement. It is certainly a striking fact that some four\nmillions of working men should have organized themselves into voluntary\nassociations for the purpose of mutual support in time of sickness and\ndistress. These societies are the outgrowth in a great measure of the\nEnglish love of self-government and social independence,--in\nillustration of which it maybe stated, that whereas in France only one\nperson in seventy-six is found belonging to a benefit society, and in\nBelgium one in sixty-four, the proportion in England is found to be one\nin nine. The English societies are said to have in hand funds amounting\nto more than eleven millions sterling; and they distribute relief\namongst their members, provided by voluntary contributions out of their\nweekly earnings, amounting to above two millions yearly.\n\nAlthough the working classes of France and Belgium do not belong to\nbenefit societies to anything like the same extent, it must be stated,\nin their justification, that they are amongst the most thrifty and\nprudent people in the world. They invest their savings principally in\nland and in the public funds. The French and Belgians have a positive\nhunger for land. They save everything that they can for the purpose of\nacquiring more. And with respect to their investments in the public\nfunds, it may be mentioned, as a well-known fact, that it was the French\npeasantry who, by investing their savings in the National Defence Loan,\nliberated French soil from the tread of their German conquerors.[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: At the present time one individual out of every eight in\nthe population of France has a share in the National Debt, the average\namount held being 170 francs. The participants in the debt approach\nclosely to the number of freeholders, or rather distinct freeholdings,\nwhich amount to 5,550,000, according to the last return. France\ncertainly furnishes a singular exception to those countries of Central\nand Western Europe, where \"the rich are getting more rich and the poor\never more poor.\" In France wealth becomes more and more distributed\namong the bulk of the population.]\n\nEnglish benefit societies, notwithstanding their great uses and\nbenefits, have numerous defects. There are faults in the details of\ntheir organization and management, whilst many of them are financially\nunsound. Like other institutions in their early stages, they have been\ntentative and in a great measure empirical,--more especially as regards\ntheir rates of contribution and allowances for sick relief. The rates\nhave in many cases been fixed too low, in proportion to the benefits\nallowed; and hence the \"box\" is often declared to be closed, after the\nmoney subscribed has been expended. The society then comes to an end,\nand the older members have to go without relief for the rest of their\nlives. But life assurance societies themselves have had to undergo the\nsame discipline of failure, and the operation of \"winding up\" has not\nunfrequently thrown discredit upon these middle-class associations.\n\nTo quote the words of the Registrar of Friendly Societies, in a recent\nreport: \"Though the information thus far obtained is not very\nencouraging as to the general system of management; on the whole,\nperhaps, the results of the investments of the poor are not worse than\nthose which noblemen, members of Parliament, merchants, professed\nfinanciers, and speculators have contrived to attain in their management\nof railways, joint-stock banks, and enterprises of all kinds.\"\n\nThe workmen's societies originated for the most part in a common want,\nfelt by persons of small means, unable to accumulate any considerable\nstore of savings to provide against destitution in the event of\ndisablement by disease or accident. At the beginning of life, persons\nearning their bread by daily labour are able to save money with\ndifficulty. Unavoidable expenses absorb their limited means and press\nheavily on their income. When unable to work, any little store they may\nhave accumulated is soon spent, and if they have a family to maintain,\nthere is then no choice before them but destitution, begging, or\nrecourse to the poor-rates. In their desire to avoid either of these\nalternatives, they have contrived the expedient of the benefit society.\nBy combining and putting a large number of small contributions together,\nthey have found it practicable thus to provide a fund sufficiently large\nto meet their ordinary requirements during sickness.\n\nThe means by which this is accomplished are very simple. Each member\ncontributes to a common fund at the rate of from fourpence to sixpence a\nweek, and out of this fund the stipulated allowance is paid. Most\nbenefit societies have also a Widows' and Orphans' Fund, raised in like\nmanner, out of which a sum is paid to the survivors of members at their\ndeath. It will be obvious that such organizations, however faulty they\nmay be in detail, cannot fail to exercise a beneficial influence upon\nsociety at large. The fact that one of such associations, the Manchester\nUnity of Odd Fellows, numbers about half a million of members; possesses\na funded capital amounting to \u00a33,706,366; and distributes in sick relief\nand payments of sums at death above \u00a3300,000 a year, illustrates in a\nstriking light their beneficial action upon the classes for whom and by\nwhom they have been established. By their means, working men are enabled\nto secure the results of economy at a comparatively small cost. For,\nmutual assurance is economy in its most economical form; and merely\npresents another illustration of that power of co-operation which is\nworking out such extraordinary results in all departments of society,\nand is in fact but another name for Civilization.\n\nMany persons object to Friendly Societies because they are conducted at\npublic-houses; because many of them are got up by the keepers of\npublic-houses in order to obtain custom from the members; and because,\nin their fortnightly meetings to pay their subscriptions, they acquire\nthe pernicious habit of drinking, and thus waste quite as much as they\nsave. The Friendly Societies doubtless rely very much on the social\nelement. The public-house is everybody's house. The members can there\nmeet together, talk together, and drink together. It is extremely\nprobable that had they trusted solely to the sense of duty--the duty of\ninsuring against sickness--and merely required the members to pay their\nweekly contributions to a collector, very few societies of the kind\nwould have remained in existence. In a large number of cases, there is\npractically no choice between the society that meets at a public-house,\nand none at all.\n\nIt so happens that the world cannot be conducted on superfine\nprinciples. To most men, and especially to the men we are speaking of,\nit is a rough, working world, conducted on common principles, such as\nwill wear. To some it may seem vulgar to associate beer, tobacco, or\nfeasting with the pure and simple duty of effecting an insurance against\ndisablement by sickness; but the world we live in is vulgar, and we must\ntake it as we find it, and try to make the best of it. It must be\nadmitted that the tendencies to pure good in man are very weak, and need\nmuch helping. But the expedient, vulgar though it be, of attracting him\nthrough his appetite for meat and drink to perform a duty to himself and\nneighbours, is by no means confined to societies of working men. There\nis scarcely a London charity or institution but has its annual dinner\nfor the purpose of attracting subscribers. Are we to condemn the\neighteenpenny annual dinner of the poor man, but excuse the guinea one\nof the rich?\n\nA vigorous effort was made by Mr. Akroyd of Halifax, in 1856, to\nestablish a Provident Sick Society and Penny Savings Bank for the\nworking men in the West Riding of Yorkshire. An organization was set on\nfoot with these objects; and though the Penny Bank proved a complete\nsuccess, the Provident Society proved a complete failure. Mr. Akroyd\nthus explains the causes of the failure: \"We found the ground\npreoccupied,\" he says, \"by Friendly Societies, especially by the Odd\nFellows, Druids, Foresters, etc.; and against their principles of\nself-government, mutual check against fraud, and _brotherhood_, no new\nand independent society can compete. Our rates were also of necessity\nmuch higher than theirs, and this was perhaps one of the chief causes of\nour failure.\"\n\nLow rates of contribution have been the principal cause of the failure\nof Friendly Societies.[1] It was of course natural that the members,\nbeing persons of limited means, should endeavour to secure the objects\nof their organization at the lowest cost. They therefore fixed their\nrates as low as possible; and, as the results proved, they in most cases\nfixed them _too_ low. So long as the societies consisted, for the most\npart, of young, healthy men, and the average amount of sickness remained\nlow, the payments made seemed ample. The funds accumulated, and many\nflattered themselves that their societies were in a prosperous state,\nwhen they contained the sure elements of decay. For, as the members grew\nolder, their average liability to sickness was regularly increasing. The\neffects of increased age upon the solvency of benefit clubs soon\nbecoming known, young men avoided the older societies, and preferred\nsetting up organizations of their own. The consequence was, that the old\nmen began to draw upon their reserves at the same time that the regular\ncontributions fell off; and when, as was frequently the case, a few\nconstantly ailing members kept pressing upon the society, the funds were\nat length exhausted, \"the box\" was declared to be closed, and the\nsociety was broken up. The real injustice was done to the younger men\nwho remained in the society. After paying their contributions for many\nyears, they found, when sickness at length fell upon them, that the\nfunds had been exhausted, by expenditure for superannuation and other\nallowances, which were not provided for by the rules of the society.\n\n[Footnote 1: The Registrar of Friendly Societies, in his report for\n1859, states that from 1793 to 1858, the number of societies enrolled\nand certified had been 28,550, of which 6,850 had ceased to exist. The\ncauses of failure in most cases were reported to be, inadequacy of the\nrates of contribution, the granting of pensions as well as sick pay, and\nno increase of young members. The dissolution of a society, however, is\nfrequently effected with a view of remodelling it, and starting afresh\nunder better regulations, and with rates of premium such as increased\nknowledge has shown to be necessary for the risks which they have to\nincur.]\n\nEven the best of the Benefit Societies have been slow to learn the\nessential importance of adequate rates of contribution, to enable them\nto fulfil their obligations and ensure their continued usefulness as\nwell as solvency. The defect of most of them consists in their trying to\ndo too much with too little means. The benefits paid out are too high\nfor the rates of contribution paid in. Those who come first are served,\nbut those who come late too often find an empty box. Not only have the\nrates of payment been generally fixed too low, but there has been little\nor no discrimination in the selection of members. Men advanced in years\nand of fragile health are often admitted on the same terms as the young\nand the healthy, the only difference being in the rate of entry money.\nEven young lodges, which start with inadequate rates, instead of growing\nstronger, gradually grow weaker; and in the event of a few constantly\nailing members falling upon the funds, they soon become exhausted, and\nthe lodge becomes bankrupt and is broken up. Such has been the history\nof thousands of Friendly Societies, doing good and serving a useful\npurpose in their time, but short-lived, ephemeral, and to many of their\nmembers disappointing, and even deceptive.\n\nAttempts have been recently made--more especially by the officers of the\nManchester Unity of Odd Fellows--to improve the financial condition of\ntheir society. Perhaps the best proof of the desire that exists on the\npart of the leading minds in the Unity to bring the organization into a\nstate of financial soundness, is to be found in the fact that the Board\nof Management have authorized the publication of the best of all data\nfor future guidance,--namely, the actual sickness experience of the\nOrder. An elaborate series of tables has accordingly been prepared and\npublished for their information by Mr. Ratcliffe, the corresponding\nsecretary, at an expense of about \u00a33,500. In the preface to the last\nedition it is stated that \"this sum has not been abstracted from the\nfunds set apart for relief during sickness, for assurances at death, or\nfor providing for necessitous widows and orphans, but from the\nmanagement funds of the lodges--funds which, being generally raised by\ndirect levy on the members, are not therefore readily expended without\ncareful consideration on the part of those most interested in the\ncharacter and welfare of their cherished institution.\"\n\nWe believe that time and experience will enable the leaders of Friendly\nSocieties generally to improve them, and introduce new ameliorations.\nThe best institutions are things of slow growth, and are shaped by\nexperience, which includes failures as well as successes; and finally,\nthey require age to strengthen them and root them in habit. The rudest\nsociety established by working men for mutual help in sickness,\nindependent of help from private charity or the poor-rates, is grounded\non a right spirit, and is deserving of every encouragement. It furnishes\na foundation on which to build up something better. It teaches\nself-reliance, and thus cultivates amongst the humblest classes habits\nof provident economy.\n\nFriendly Societies began their operations before there was any science\nof vital statistics to guide them; and if they have made mistakes in\nmutual assurance, they have not stood alone. Looking at the difficulties\nthey have had to encounter, they are entitled to be judged charitably.\nGood advice given them in a kindly spirit will not fail to produce good\nresults. The defects which are mixed up with them are to be regarded as\nbut the transient integument which will most probably fall away as the\nflower ripens and the fruit matures.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\nSAVINGS BANKS.\n\n\n\"I wish I could write all across the sky, in letters of gold, the one\nword SAVINGS BANK.\"--_Rev. Win. Marsh_.\n\n\"The only true secret of assisting the poor is to make them agents in\nbettering their own condition.\"--_Archbishop Sumner_.\n\n\"Qui \u00e0 vingt ne sait, \u00e0 trente ne peut, \u00e0 quarante n'a,--jamais ne\nsaura, ne pourra, n'aura.\"--_French Proverb_.\n\n\"Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise: which\nhaving no guide, overseer, or ruler, provideth her meat in the summer,\nand gathereth her food in the harvest.\"--_Proverbs_ vi. 6.\n\n\nIt is said that there is a skeleton in every household. The skeleton is\nlocked up--put away in a cupboard--- and rarely seen. Only the people\ninside the house know of its existence. But the skeleton, nevertheless,\ncannot long be concealed. It comes to light in some way or another. The\nmost common skeleton is Poverty. Poverty, says Douglas Jerrold, is the\ngreat secret, kept at any pains by one-half the world from the other\nhalf. When there is nothing laid by--nothing saved to relieve sickness\nwhen it comes--nothing to alleviate the wants of old age,--this is the\nskeleton hid away in many a cupboard.\n\nIn a country such as this, where business is often brought to a\nstandstill by over-trading and over-speculation, many masters, clerks,\nand workpeople are thrown out of employment. They must wait until better\ntimes come round. But in the meantime, how are they to live? If they\nhave accumulated no savings, and have nothing laid by, they are\ncomparatively destitute.\n\nEven the Co-operative Cotton-mills, or Co-operative Banks, which are\nnothing more than Joint-stock Companies, Limited,[1] may become\nbankrupt. They may not be able, as was the case during the cotton\nfamine, to compete with large capitalists in the purchase of cotton, or\nin the production of cotton twist. Co-operative companies established\nfor the purpose of manufacturing, are probably of too speculative a\ncharacter to afford much lasting benefit to the working classes; and it\nseems that by far the safer course for them to pursue, in times such as\nthe present, is by means of simple, direct saving. There may be less\nchance of gain, but there is less risk of loss. What is laid by is not\nlocked up and contingent for its productiveness upon times and trade,\nbut is steadily accumulating, and is always ready at hand for use when\nthe pinch of adversity occurs.\n\n[Footnote 1: \"The new cotton factories which have been called\nco-operative, and which, under that name, have brought together large\nnumbers of shareholders of the wage classes, are all now in reality\ncommon joint-stock companies, with limited liability. The so-called\nco-operative shareholders in the leading establishments decided, as I am\ninformed, by large majorities, that the workers should only be paid\nwages in the ordinary manner, and should not divide profits. The wages\nbeing for piecework, it was held that the payment was in accordance with\ncommunistic principle, 'each according to his capacity, each according\nto his work.' The common spinner had had no share in the work of the\ngeneral direction, nor had he evinced any of the capacity of thrift or\nforesight of the capitalist, and why should he share profits as if he\nhad? The wage class, in their capacity of shareholders, decided that it\nwas an unjust claim upon their profits, and kept them undivided to\nthemselves.\"--_Edwin Chadwick, C.B._]\n\nMr. Bright stated in the House of Commons, in 1860,[2] that the income\nof the working classes was \"understated at three hundred and twelve\nmillions a year.\" Looking at the increase of wages which has taken place\nduring the last fifteen years, their income must now amount to at least\nfour hundred millions.\n\n[Footnote 2: Speech on the Representation of the People Bill.]\n\nSurely, out of this large fund of earnings, the working classes might\neasily save from thirty to forty millions yearly. At all events, they\nmight save such an amount as, if properly used and duly economized,\ncould not fail to establish large numbers of them in circumstances of\ncomfort and even of comparative wealth.\n\nThe instances which we have already cited of persons in the humbler\nranks of life having by prudential forethought accumulated a\nconsiderable store of savings for the benefit of their families, and as\na stay for their old age, need not by any means be the comparatively\nexceptional cases that they are now. What one well-regulated person is\nable to do, others, influenced by similar self-reliant motives, and\npractising like sobriety and frugality, might with equal ease and in one\nway or another accomplish. A man who has more money about him than he\nrequires for current purposes, is tempted to spend it. To use the common\nphrase, it is apt to \"burn a hole in his pocket.\" He may be easily\nentrapped into company; and where his home provides but small comfort,\nthe public-house, with its bright fire, is always ready to welcome him.\n\nIt often happens that workmen lose their employment in \"bad times.\"\nMercantile concerns become bankrupt, clerks are paid off, and servants\nare dismissed when their masters can no longer employ them. If the\ndisemployed people have been in the habit of regularly consuming all\ntheir salaries and wages, without laying anything by, their case is\nabout the most pitiable that can be imagined. But if they have saved\nsomething, at home or in the savings bank, they will be enabled to break\ntheir fall. They will obtain some breathing-time, before they again fall\ninto employment. Suppose they have as much as ten pounds saved. It may\nseem a very little sum, yet in distress it amounts to much. It may even\nprove a man's passport to future independence.\n\nWith ten pounds a workman might remove from one district to another\nwhere employment is more abundant. With ten pounds, he might emigrate to\nCanada or the United States, where his labour might be in request.\nWithout this little store of savings, he might be rooted to his native\nspot, like a limpet to the rock. If a married man with a family, his ten\npounds would save his home from wreckage, and his household from\ndestitution. His ten pounds would keep the wolf from the door until\nbetter times came round. Ten pounds would keep many a servant-girl from\nruin, give her time to recruit her health, perhaps wasted by hard work,\nand enable her to look about for a suitable place, instead of rushing\ninto the first that offered.\n\nWe do not value money for its own sake, and we should be the last to\nencourage a miserly desire to hoard amongst any class; but we cannot\nhelp recognizing in money the means of life, the means of comfort, the\nmeans of maintaining an honest independence. We would therefore\nrecommend every young man and every young woman to begin life by\nlearning to save; to lay up for the future a certain portion of every\nweek's earnings, be it little or much; to avoid consuming every week or\nevery year the earnings of that week or year; and we counsel them to do\nthis, as they would avoid the horrors of dependence, destitution, or\nbeggary. We would have men and women of every class able to help\nthemselves--relying upon their own resources--upon their own savings;\nfor it is a true saying that \"a penny in the purse is better than a\nfriend at court.\" The first penny saved is a step in the world. The fact\nof its being saved and laid by, indicates self-denial, forethought,\nprudence, wisdom. It may be the germ of future happiness. It may be the\nbeginning of independence.\n\nCobbett was accustomed to scoff at the \"bubble\" of Savings Banks,\nalleging that it was an insult to people to tell them that they had\nanything to save. Yet the extent to which savings banks _have_ been\nused, even by the humblest classes, proves that he was as much mistaken\nin this as he was in many of the views which he maintained. There are\nthousands of persons who would probably never have thought of laying by\na penny, but for the facility of the savings bank: it would have seemed\nso useless to try. The small hoard in the cupboard was too ready at\nhand, and would have become dissipated before it accumulated to any\namount; but no sooner was a place of deposit provided, where sums as\nsmall as a shilling could be put away, than people hastened to take\nadvantage of it.\n\nThe first savings bank was started by Miss Priscilla Wakefield, in the\nparish of Tottenham, Middlesex, towards the close of last century,--her\nobject being mainly to stimulate the frugality of poor children. The\nexperiment proved so successful that in 1799 the Rev. Joseph Smith, of\nWendon, commenced a plan of receiving small sums from his parishioners\nduring summer, and returning them at Christmas, with the addition of\none-third as a stimulus to prudence and forethought. Miss Wakefield, in\nher turn, followed Mr. Smith's example, and in 1804 extended the plan of\nher charitable bank, so as to include adult labourers, female servants,\nand others. A similar institution was formed at Bath, in 1808, by\nseveral ladies of that city; and about the same time Mr. Whitbread\nproposed to Parliament the formation of a national institution, \"in the\nnature of a bank, for the use and advantage of the labouring classes\nalone;\" but nothing came of his proposal.\n\nIt was not until the Rev. Henry Duncan, the minister of Ruthwell, a poor\nparish in Dumfriesshire, took up the subject, that the savings-bank\nsystem may be said to have become fairly inaugurated. The inhabitants of\nthat parish were mostly poor cottagers, whose average wages did not\namount to more than eight shillings a week. There were no manufactures\nin the district, nor any means of subsistence for the population, except\nwhat was derived from the land under cultivation; and the landowners\nwere for the most part non-resident. It seemed a very unlikely place in\nwhich to establish a bank for savings, where the poor people were\nalready obliged to strain every nerve to earn a bare living, to provide\nthe means of educating their children (for, however small his income,\nthe Scottish peasant almost invariably contrives to save something\nwherewith to send his children to school), and to pay their little\ncontributions to the friendly society of the parish. Nevertheless, the\nminister resolved, as a help to his spiritual instructions, to try the\nexperiment.\n\nNot many labouring men may apprehend the deep arguments of the religious\nteacher, but the least intelligent can appreciate a bit of practical\nadvice that tells on the well-being of his household as well as on the\nlabourer's own daily comfort and self-respect. Dr. Duncan knew that,\neven in the poorest family, there were odds and ends of income apt to be\nfrittered away in unnecessary expenditure. He saw some thrifty cottagers\nusing the expedient of a cow, or a pig, or a bit of garden-ground, as a\nsavings bank,--finding their return of interest in the shape of butter\nand milk, winter's bacon, or garden produce; and it occurred to him that\nthere were other villagers, single men and young women, for whom some\nanalogous mode of storing away their summer's savings might be provided,\nand a fair rate of interest returned upon their little investments.\n\nHence originated the parish savings bank of Ruthwell, the first\nself-supporting institution of the kind established in this country.\nThat the minister was not wrong in his anticipations, was proved by the\nfact that, in the course of four years, the funds of his savings bank\namounted to nearly a thousand pounds. And if poor villagers out of eight\nshillings a week, and female labourers and servants out of much less,\ncould lay aside this sum,--what might not mechanics, artizans, miners,\nand iron-workers accomplish, who earn from thirty to fifty shillings a\nweek all the year round?\n\nThe example set by Dr. Duncan was followed in many towns and districts\nin England and Scotland. In every instance the model of the Ruthwell\nparish bank was followed; and the self-sustaining principle was adopted.\nThe savings banks thus instituted, were not eleemosynary institutions,\nnor dependent upon anybody's charity or patronage; but their success\nrested entirely with the depositors themselves. They encouraged the\nindustrious classes to rely upon their own resources, to exercise\nforethought and economy in the conduct of life, to cherish self-respect\nand self-dependence, and to provide for their comfort and maintenance in\nold age, by the careful use of the products of their industry, instead\nof having to rely for aid upon the thankless dole of a begrudged\npoor-rate.\n\nThe establishment of savings banks with these objects, at length began\nto be recognized as a matter of national concern; and in 1817 an Act was\npassed which served to increase their number and extend their\nusefulness. Various measures have since been adopted with the object of\nincreasing their efficiency and security. But notwithstanding the great\ngood which these institutions have accomplished, it is still obvious\nthat the better-paid classes of workpeople avail themselves of them to\nonly a very limited extent. A very small portion of the four hundred\nmillions estimated to be annually earned by the working classes finds\nits way to the savings bank, while at least twenty times the amount is\nspent annually at the beershop and the public-house.\n\nIt is not the highly-paid class of working men and women who invest\nmoney in the savings banks; but those who earn comparatively moderate\nincomes. Thus the most numerous class of depositors in the Manchester\nand Salford Savings Bank is that of domestic servants. After them rank\nclerks, shopmen, porters, and miners. Only about a third part of the\ndeposits belong to the operatives, artizans, and mechanics. It is the\nsame in manufacturing districts generally. A few years since, it was\nfound that of the numerous female depositors at Dundee, only one was a\nfactory worker: the rest were for the most part servants.\n\nThere is another fact that is remarkable. The habit of saving does not\nso much prevail in those counties where wages are the highest, as in\nthose counties where wages are the lowest. Previous to the era of Post\nOffice Savings Banks, the inhabitants of Wilts and Dorset--where wages\nare about the lowest in England--deposited more money in the savings\nbanks, per head of the population, than they did in Lancashire and\nYorkshire, where wages are about the highest in England. Taking\nYorkshire itself, and dividing it into manufacturing and\nagricultural,--the manufacturing inhabitants of the West Riding of York\ninvested about twenty-five shillings per head of the population in the\nsavings banks; whilst the agricultural population of the East Riding\ninvested about three times that amount.\n\nPrivate soldiers are paid much less wages per week than the lowest-paid\nworkmen, and yet they put more money in the savings banks than workmen\nwho are paid from thirty to forty shillings a week. Soldiers are\ngenerally supposed to be a particularly thoughtless class. Indeed, they\nare sometimes held up to odium as reckless and dissolute; but the\nMilitary Savings Bank Returns refute the vilification, and prove that\nthe British soldier is as sober, well-disciplined, and frugal, as we\nalready know him to be brave. Most people forget that the soldier must\nbe obedient, sober, and honest. If he is a drunkard, he is punished; if\nhe is dishonest, he is drummed out of the regiment.\n\nWonderful is the magic of Drill! Drill means discipline, training,\neducation. The first drill of every people is military. It has been the\nfirst education of nations. The duty of obedience is thus taught on a\nlarge scale,--submission to authority; united action under a common\nhead. These soldiers,--who are ready to march steadily against vollied\nfire, against belching cannon, up fortress heights, or to beat their\nheads against bristling bayonets, as they did at Badajos,--were once\ntailors, shoemakers, mechanics, delvers, weavers, and ploughmen; with\nmouths gaping, shoulders stooping, feet straggling, arms and hands like\ngreat fins hanging by their sides; but now their gait is firm and\nmartial, their figures are erect, and they march along, to the sound of\nmusic, with a tread that makes the earth shake. Such is the wonderful\npower of drill.\n\nNations, as they become civilized, adopt other methods of discipline.\nThe drill becomes industrial. Conquest and destruction give place to\nproduction in many forms. And what trophies Industry has won, what skill\nhas it exercised, what labours has it performed! Every industrial\nprocess is performed by drilled bands of artizans. Go into Yorkshire and\nLancashire, and you will find armies of drilled labourers at work, where\nthe discipline is perfect, and the results, as regards the amount of\nmanufactured productions turned out of hand, are prodigious.\n\nOn efficient drilling and discipline, men's success as individuals, and\nas societies entirely depends. The most self-dependent man is under\ndiscipline,--and the more perfect the discipline, the more complete his\ncondition. A man must drill his desires, and keep them under\nsubjection,--he must obey the word of command, otherwise he is the sport\nof passion and impulse. The religions man's life is full of discipline\nand self-restraint. The man of business is entirely subject to system\nand rule. The happiest home is that where the discipline is the most\nperfect, and yet where it is the least felt. We at length become subject\nto it as to a law of Nature, and while it binds us firmly, yet we feel\nit not. The force of Habit is but the force of Drill.\n\nOne dare scarcely hint, in these days, at the necessity for compulsory\nconscription; and yet, were the people at large compelled to pass\nthrough the discipline of the army, the country would be stronger, the\npeople would be soberer, and thrift would become much more habitual than\nit is at present.\n\nMilitary savings banks were first suggested by Paymaster Fairfowl in\n1816; and about ten years later the question was again raised by Colonel\nOglander, of the 26th Foot (Cameronians). The subject was brought under\nthe notice of the late Duke of Wellington, and negatived; the Duke\nmaking the following memorandum on the subject: \"There is nothing that I\nknow of to prevent a soldier, equally with others of His Majesty's\nsubjects, from investing his money in savings banks. If there be any\nimpediment, it should be taken away; but I doubt the expediency of going\nfurther.\"\n\nThe idea, however, seems to have occurred to the Duke, that the proposal\nto facilitate the saving of money by private soldiers might be turned to\naccount in the way of a reduction in the army expenditure, and he\ncharacteristically added: \"Has a soldier more pay than he requires? If\nhe has, it should be lowered, not to those now in the service, but to\nthose enlisted hereafter.\" No one, however, could allege that the pay of\nthe private soldier was excessive, and it was not likely that any\nproposal to lower it would be entertained.\n\nThe subject of savings banks for the army was allowed to rest for a\ntime, but by the assistance of Sir James McGregor and Lord Howick a\nscheme was at length approved and finally established in 1842. The\nresult has proved satisfactory in an eminent degree, and speaks well for\nthe character of the British soldier. It appears from a paper presented\nto the House of Commons some years ago,--giving the details of the\nsavings effected by the respective corps,--that the men of the Royal\nArtillery had saved over twenty-three thousand pounds, or an average of\nsixteen pounds to each depositor. These savings were made out of a daily\npay of one and threepence and a penny for beer-money, or equal to about\nnine and sixpence a week, subject to sundry deductions for extra\nclothing. Again, the men of the Royal Engineers--mostly drawn from the\nskilled mechanical class--had saved nearly twelve thousand pounds, or an\naverage of about twenty pounds for each depositor. The Twenty-sixth\nregiment of the line (Cameronians), whose pay was a shilling a day and a\npenny for beer, saved over four thousand pounds. Two hundred and fifty\nmen of the first battalion, or one-third of the corps, were depositors\nin the savings bank, and their savings amounted to about seventeen\npounds per man.\n\nBut this is not all. Private soldiers, out of their small earnings, are\naccustomed to remit considerable sums through the post office, to their\npoor relations at home. In one year, twenty-two thousand pounds were\nthus sent from Aldershot,--the average amount of each money order being\ntwenty-one shillings and fourpence. And if men with seven shillings and\nseven-pence a week can do so much, what might not skilled workmen do,\nwhose earnings amount to from two to three pounds a week?\n\nSoldiers serving abroad during arduous campaigns have proved themselves\nto be equally thoughtful and provident. During the war in the Crimea,\nthe soldiers and seamen sent home through the money order office\nseventy-one thousand pounds, and the army works corps thirty-five\nthousand pounds. More than a year before the money order system was\nintroduced at Scutari, Miss Nightingale took charge of the soldiers'\nsavings. She found them most willing to abridge their own comforts or\nindulgences, for the sake of others dear to them, as well as for their\nown future well-being; and she devoted an afternoon in every week to\nreceiving and forwarding their savings to England. She remitted many\nthousand pounds in this manner, and it was distributed by a friend in\nLondon,--much of it to the remotest corners of Scotland and Ireland. And\nit afforded some evidence that the seed fell in good places (as well as\nof the punctuality of the post office), that of the whole number of\nremittances, all but one were duly acknowledged.\n\nAgain, there is not a regiment returning from India but brings home with\nit a store of savings. In the year 1860, after the Indian mutiny, more\nthan twenty thousand pounds were remitted on account of invalided men\nsent back to England; besides which there were eight regiments which\nbrought home balances to their credits in the regimental banks amounting\nto \u00a340.499.[1] The highest was the Eighty-fourth, whose savings amounted\nto \u00a39,718. The Seventy-Eighth (Ross-shire Buffs), the heroes who\nfollowed Havelock in his march on Lucknow, saved \u00a36,480; and the gallant\nThirty-second, who held Lucknow under Inglis, saved \u00a35,263. The\nEighty-sixth, the first battalion of the Tenth, and the Ninth Dragoons,\nall brought home an amount of savings indicative of providence and\nforethought, which reflected the highest honour upon them as men as well\nas soldiers.[2]\n\n[Footnote 1: The sum sent home by soldiers serving in India for the\nbenefit of friends and relatives are not included in these amounts, the\nremittances being made direct by the paymasters of regiments, and not\nthrough the savings banks.]\n\n[Footnote 2: The amount of the Fund for Military Savings Banks on the\n5th of January, 1876, was \u00a3338,350.]\n\nAnd yet the private soldiers do not deposit all their savings in the\nmilitary savings banks,--especially when they can obtain access to an\nordinary savings bank. We are informed that many of the household troops\nstationed in London deposit their spare money in the savings banks\nrather than in the regimental banks; and when the question was on a\nrecent occasion asked as to the cause, the answer given was, \"I would\nnot have my sergeant know that I was saving money.\" But in addition to\nthis, the private soldier would rather that his comrades did not know\nthat he was saving money; for the thriftless soldier, like the\nthriftless workman, when he has spent everything of his own, is very apt\nto set up a kind of right to borrow from the fund of his more thrifty\ncomrade.\n\nThe same feeling of suspicion frequently prevents workmen depositing\nmoney in the ordinary savings bank. They do not like it to be known to\ntheir employers that they are saving money, being under the impression\nthat it might lead to attempts to lower their wages. A working man in a\ntown in Yorkshire, who had determined to make a deposit in the savings\nbank, of which his master was a director, went repeatedly to watch at\nthe door of the bank before he could ascertain that his master was\nabsent; and he only paid in his money, after several weeks' waiting,\nwhen ne had assured himself of this fact.\n\nThe miners at Bilston, at least such of them as put money in the savings\nbank, were accustomed to deposit it in other names than their own. Nor\nwere they without reason. For some of their employers were actually\nopposed to the institution of savings banks,--fearing lest the workmen\nmight apply their savings to their maintenance during a turn-out; not\nreflecting that they have the best guarantee of the steadiness of this\nclass of men, in their deposits at the savings bank. Mr. Baker,\nInspector of Factories, has said that \"the supreme folly of a strike is\nshown by the fact that there is seldom or never a rich workman at the\nhead of it.\"\n\nA magistrate at Bilston, not connected with the employment of workmen,\nhas mentioned the following case. \"I prevailed,\" he says, \"upon a\nworkman to begin a deposit in the savings bank. He came most\nunwillingly. His deposits were small, although I knew his gains to be\ngreat. I encouraged him by expressing satisfaction at the course he was\ntaking. His deposits became greater; and at the end of five years he\ndrew out the fund he had accumulated, bought a piece of land, and has\nbuilt a house upon it. I think if I had not spoken to him, the whole\namount would have been spent in feasting or clubs, or contributions to\nthe trades unions. That man's eyes are now open--his social position is\nraised--he sees and feels as we do, and will influence others to follow\nhis example.\"\n\nFrom what we have said, it will be obvious that there can be no doubt as\nto the ability of a large proportion of the better-paid classes of\nworking men to lay by a store of savings. When they set their minds upon\nany object, they have no difficulty in finding the requisite money. A\nsingle town in Lancashire contributed thirty thousand pounds to support\ntheir fellow-workmen when on strike in an adjoining town. At a time when\nthere are no strikes, why should they not save as much money on their\nown account, for their own permanent comfort? Many workmen already save\nwith this object; and what they do, all might do. We know of one large\nmechanical establishment,--situated in an agricultural district, where\nthe temptations to useless expenditure are few,--in which nearly all the\nmen are habitual economists, and have saved sums varying from two\nhundred to five hundred pounds each.\n\nMany factory operatives, with their families, might easily lay by from\nfive to ten shillings a week, which in a few years would amount to\nconsiderable sums. At Darwen, only a short time ago, an operative drew\nhis savings out of the bank to purchase a row of cottages, now become\nhis property. Many others, in the same place, and in the neighbouring\ntowns, are engaged in building cottages for themselves, some by means of\ntheir contributions to building societies, and others by means of their\nsavings accumulated in the bank.\n\nA respectably dressed working man, when making a payment one day at the\nBradford savings bank, which brought his account up to nearly eighty\npounds, informed the manager how it was that he had been induced to\nbecome a depositor. He had been a drinker; but one day accidentally\nfinding his wife's savings bank deposit book, from which he learnt that\nshe had laid by about twenty pounds, he said to himself, \"Well now, if\nthis can be done while I am spending, what might we do if both were\nsaving?\" The man gave up his drinking, and became one of the most\nrespectable persons of his class. \"I owe it all,\" he said, \"to my wife\nand the savings bank.\"\n\nWhen well-paid workmen such as these are able to accumulate a sufficient\nstore of savings, they ought gradually to give up hard work, and remove\nfrom the field of competition as old age comes upon them. They ought\nalso to give place to younger men; and prevent themselves being beaten\ndown into the lower-paid ranks of labour. After sixty a man's physical\npowers fail him; and by that time he ought to have made provision for\nhis independent maintenance. Nor are the instances by any means\nuncommon, of workmen laying by money with this object, and thereby\nproving what the whole class might, to a greater or less extent,\naccomplish in the same direction.\n\nThe extent to which Penny Banks have been used by the very poorest\nclasses, wherever started, affords a striking illustration how much may\nbe done by merely providing increased opportunities for the practice of\nthrift. The first Penny Bank was started in Greenock, about thirty years\nsince, as an auxiliary to the savings bank. The object of the projector\n(Mr. J.M. Scott) was to enable poor persons, whose savings amounted to\nless than a shilling (the savings bank minimum) to deposit them in a\nsafe place. In one year about five thousand depositors placed \u00a31,580\nwith the Greenock institution. The estimable Mr. Queckett, a curate in\nthe east end of London, next opened a Penny Bank, and the results were\nvery remarkable. In one year as many as 14,513 deposits were made in the\nbank. The number of depositors was limited to 2,000; and the demand for\nadmission was so great that there were usually many waiting until\nvacancies occurred.\n\n\"Some save for their rent,\" said Mr. Queckett, \"others for clothes and\napprenticing their children; and various are the little objects to which\nthe savings are to be applied. Every repayment passes through my own\nhands, which gives an opportunity of hearing of sickness, or sorrow, or\nany other cause which compels the withdrawal of the little fund. It is,\nbesides, a feeder to the larger savings banks, to which many are turned\nover when the weekly payments tendered exceed the usual sum. Many of\nthose who could at first scarcely advance beyond a penny a week, can now\ndeposit a silver coin of some kind.\"\n\nNever was the moral influence of the parish clergyman more wisely\nemployed than in this case. Not many of those whom Mr. Queckett thus\nlaboured to serve were amongst the church-going class; but by helping\nthem to be frugal, and improving their physical condition, he was\nenabled gradually to elevate their social tastes, and to awaken in them\na religious life to which the greater number of them had before been\nstrangers.\n\nA powerful influence was next given to the movement by Mr. Charles W.\nSikes, cashier of the Huddersfield Banking Company, who advocated their\nestablishment in connection with the extensive organization of\nmechanics' institutes. It appeared to him that to train working people\nwhen young in habits of economy, was of more practical value to\nthemselves, and of greater importance to society, than to fill their\nminds with the contents of many books. He pointed to the perverted use\nof money by the working class as one of the greatest practical evils of\nthe time. \"In many cases,\" he said, \"the higher the workmen's wages, the\npoorer are their families; and these are they who really form the\ndiscontented and the dangerous classes. How _can_ such persons take any\ninterest in pure and elevating knowledge?\"\n\nTo show the thriftlessness of the people, Mr. Sikes mentioned the\nfollowing instance. \"An eminent employer in the West Riding,\" he said,\n\"whose mills for a quarter of a century have scarcely run short time for\na single week, has within a few days examined the rate of wages now paid\nto his men, and compared it with that of a few years ago. He had the\npleasure of finding that improvements in machinery had led to\nimprovement in wages. His spinners and weavers are making about\ntwenty-seven shillings a week. In many instances some of their children\nwork at the same mill, and in a few instances their wives, and often the\nfamily income reaches from a hundred to a hundred and fifty pounds per\nannum. Visiting the homes of some of these men, he has seen with\nfeelings of disappointment the air of utter discomfort and squalor with\nwhich many are pervaded. Increase of income has led only to increase of\nimprovidence. The savings bank and the building society are equally\nneglected, although at the same mill there are some with no higher\nwages, whose homes have every comfort, and who have quite a little\ncompetency laid by. In Bradford, I believe, a munificent employer on one\noccasion opened seven hundred accounts with the savings bank for his\noperatives, paying in a small deposit for each. The result was not\nencouraging. Rapidly was a small portion of the sums drawn out, and very\nfew remained as the nucleus of further deposits.\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: From Mr. Sikes's excellent little handbook entitled \"Good\nTimes, or the Savings Bank and the Fireside.\"]\n\nMr. Sikes suggested that each mechanics' institute should appoint a\npreliminary savings bank committee, to attend once a week for the\npurpose of receiving deposits from the members and others.\n\n\"If a committee at each institution,\" he said, \"were to adopt this\ncourse, taking an interest in their humble circumstances, and in a\nsympathizing and kindly spirit, to suggest, invite, nay win them over,\nnot only by reading the lesson, but forming the habit of true economy\nand self-reliance (the noblest lessons for which classes could be\nformed), how cheering would be the results! Once established in better\nhabits, their feet firmly set in the path of self-reliance, how\ngenerally would young men grow up with the practical conviction that to\ntheir own advancing intelligence and virtues must they mainly look to\nwork out their own social welfare!\"\n\nThis admirable advice was not lost. One institution after another\nembraced the plan, and preliminary savings banks were, shortly\nestablished in connection with the principal mechanics' institutes\nthroughout Yorkshire. Those established at Huddersfield, Halifax,\nBradford, Leeds, and York, were exceedingly successful. The Penny Banks\nestablished at Halifax consisted of a central bank and seven subordinate\nbranches. The number of members, and the average amount of the sums\ndeposited with them, continued to increase from year to year. Fourteen\nPenny Banks were established at Bradford; and after the depositors had\nformed the habit of saving in the smaller banks, they transferred them\nin bulk to the ordinary Savings Bank.\n\nThirty-six Penny Banks were established in and around Glasgow. The\ncommittee, in their Report, stated they were calculated \"to check that\nreckless expenditure of little sums which so often leads to a confirmed\nhabit of wastefulness and improvidence;\" and they urged the support of\nthe Penny Banks as the best means of extending the usefulness of the\nsavings banks. The Penny Bank established at the small country town of\nFarnham is estimated to have contributed within a few years a hundred\nand fifty regular depositors to the savings bank of the same place. The\nfact that as large a proportion as two-thirds of the whole amount\ndeposited is drawn out within the year, shows that Penny Banks are\nprincipally used as places of safe deposit for very small sums of money,\nuntil they are wanted for some special object, such as rent, clothes,\nfurniture, the doctor's bill, and such-like purposes.\n\nThus the Penny Bank is emphatically the poor man's purse. The great mass\nof the deposits are paid in sums not exceeding sixpence, and the average\nof the whole does not exceed a shilling. The depositors consist of the\nvery humblest members of the working class, and by far the greatest\nnumber of them have never before been accustomed to lay by any portion\nof their earnings. The Rev. Mr. Clarke, of Derby, who took an active\ninterest in the extension of these useful institutions, has stated that\none-tenth of the whole amount received by the Derby Penny Bank was\ndeposited in copper money, and a large portion of the remainder in\nthreepenny and fourpenny pieces.\n\nIt is clear, therefore, that the Penny Bank reaches a class of persons\nof very small means, whose ability to save is much less than that of the\nhighly-paid workman, and who, if the money were left in their pockets,\nwould in most cases spend it in the nearest public-house. Hence, when a\nPenny Bank was established at Putney, and the deposits were added up at\nthe end of the first year, a brewer, who was on the committee, made the\nremark, \"Well, that represents thirty thousand pints of beer _not\ndrunk_.\"\n\nAt one of the Penny Banks in Yorkshire, an old man in receipt of parish\noutdoor relief was found using the Penny Bank as a place of deposit for\nhis pennies until he had accumulated enough to buy a coat. Others save,\nto buy an eight-day clock, or a musical instrument, or for a railway\ntrip.\n\nBut the principal supporters of the Penny Banks are boys, and this is\ntheir most hopeful feature; for it is out of boys that men are made. At\nHuddersfield many of the lads go in bands from the mills to the Penny\nBanks; emulation as well as example urging them on. They save for\nvarious purposes--one to buy a chest of tools, another a watch, a third\na grammar or a dictionary.\n\nOne evening a boy presented himself to draw \u00a3l 10. According to the\nrules of the Penny Bank a week's notice must be given before any sum\nexceeding 20s. can be withdrawn, and the cashier demurred to making the\npayment. \"Well,\" said the boy, \"the reason's this--mother can't pay her\nrent; I'm goin' to pay it, for, as long as I have owt, she shall hev'\nit.\" In another case, a youth drew \u00a320 to buy off his brother who had\nenlisted. \"Mother frets so,\" said the lad, \"that, she'll break her heart\nif he isn't bought off, and I cannot bear that.\"\n\nThus these institutions give help and strength in many ways, and,\nbesides enabling young people to keep out of debt and honestly to pay\ntheir way, furnish them with the means of performing kindly and generous\nacts in times of family trial and emergency. It is an admirable feature\nof the Ragged Schools that almost every one of them has a Penny Bank\nconnected with it for the purpose of training the scholars in good\nhabits, which they most need; and it is a remarkable fact that in one\nyear not less than \u00a38,880 were deposited, in 25,637 sums, by the\nscholars connected with the Ragged School Union. And when, this can be\ndone by the poor boys of the ragged schools, what might not be\naccomplished by the highly-paid operatives and mechanics of England?\n\nBut another capital feature in the working of Penny Banks, as regards\nthe cultivation of prudent habits among the people, is the circumstance\nthat the example of boys and girls depositing their spare weekly\npennies, has often the effect of drawing their parents after them. A boy\ngoes on for weeks paying his pence, and taking home his pass-book. The\nbook shows that he has a \"leger folio\" at the bank expressly devoted to\nhim--that his pennies are all duly entered, together with the respective\ndates of their deposits--that these savings are not lying idle, but bear\ninterest at 2-1/2 per cent. per annum--and that he can have them\nrestored to him at any time,--if under 20s., without notice; and it\nabove 20s., then after a week's notice has been given.\n\nThe book is a little history in itself, and cannot fail to be\ninteresting to the boy's brothers and sisters, as well as to his\nparents. They call him \"good lad,\" and they see he is a well-conducted\nlad. The father, if he be a sensible man, naturally bethinks him that,\nif his boy can do so creditable a thing, worthy of praise, so might he\nhimself. Accordingly, on the next Saturday night, when the boy goes to\ndeposit his threepence at the Penny Bank, the father often sends his\nshilling.\n\nThus a good beginning is often made, and a habit initiated, which, if\npersevered in, very shortly exercises a most salutary influence on the\nentire domestic condition of the family. The observant mother is quick\nto observe the effects of this new practice upon the happiness of the\nhome, and in course of time, as the younger children grow up and earn\nmoney, she encourages them to follow the elder boy's example. She\nherself takes them by the hand, leads them to the Penny Bank, and\naccustoms them to invest their savings there. Women have even more\ninfluence in such matters than men, and where they do exercise it, the\nbeneficial effects are much more lasting.\n\nOne evening a strong, muscular mechanic appeared at the Bradford savings\nbank in his working dress, bringing with him three children, one of them\nin his arms. He placed on the counter their deposit books, which his\nwife had previously been accustomed to present, together with ten\nshillings, to be equally apportioned amongst the three. Pressing to his\nbosom the child in his arms, the man said, \"Poor things! they have lost\ntheir mother since they were here last; but I must do the best I can for\nthem.\" And he continued the good lesson to his children which his wife\nhad begun, bringing them with him each time to see their little deposits\nmade.\n\nThere is an old English proverb which says, \"He that would thrive must\nfirst ask his wife;\" but the wife must not only let her husband thrive,\nbut help him, otherwise she is not the \"help meet\" which is as needful\nfor the domestic comfort and satisfaction of the working man, as of\nevery other man who undertakes the responsibility of a family. Women\nform the moral atmosphere in which we grow when children, and they have\na great deal to do with the life we lead when we become men. It is true\nthat the men may hold the reins; but it is generally the women who tell\nthem which way to drive. What Rousseau said is very near the truth--\"Men\nwill always be what women make them.\"\n\nNot long ago, Mr. Sikes encountered, in a second-class carriage, a\nwell-dressed workman travelling from Sheffield to Glasgow, during\nholiday times, to see his mother. \"I am glad,\" said Mr. Sikes, \"to find\na workman travelling so great a distance, for a purpose like that.\"\n\"Yes,\" said the man, \"and I am glad to say that I can afford to do it.\"\n\"And do many of the workmen employed in your workshop save money?\" asked\nMr. Sikes. \"No,\" said the other, \"not more than about two in the\nhundred. The spare earnings of the others go, not to the savings banks,\nbut to the drink-shops.\" \"And when did you begin to save?\" \"When I was\nno bigger than _that_,\" indicating the height of a little boy: \"the\nfirst money I saved was in a Penny Bank, and I have gone on saving ever\nsince.\"\n\nSuch being the influence of early practice and example, we are glad to\nfind that Economy is now being taught at public schools. The Rev. Mr.\nCrallan, of the Sussex County Asylum, has long taught lessons of thrift\nto poor boys and girls. He urges the establishment of Penny Banks in\nconnection with Savings Banks, in all elementary schools. He wisely\ncontends that simple lessons on money, its nature, its value, and its\nuses, together with the various duties of giving, spending, and saving,\nwould have a vast influence on the rising generation.\n\nThe practice of teaching children provident habits has been adopted for\nabout eight years in the National Schools of Belgium. The School Board\nof Ghent is convinced of the favourable influence that saving has upon\nthe moral and material well-being of the working classes, and believes\nthat the best means of causing the spirit of economy to penetrate their\nhabits is to teach it to the children under tuition, and to make them\npractise it.\n\nIt is always very difficult to teach anything new to adults,--and\nespecially lessons of thrift to men who are thriftless. Their method of\nliving is fixed. Traditional and inveterate habits of expenditure exist\namong them. With men, it is the drinking-shop; with women, it is dress.\nThey spend what they earn, and think nothing of to-morrow. When reduced\nto a state of distress, they feel no shame in begging; for the feeling\nof human dignity has not yet been sufficiently developed in them.\n\nWith children it is very different. They have no inveterate habits to\nget rid of. They will, for the most part, do as they are taught. And\nthey can be taught economy, just as they can be taught arithmetic. They\ncan, at all events, be inspired by a clever teacher with habits of\neconomy and thrift. Every child has a few pence at times. The master may\ninduce them to save these for some worthy purpose. At Ghent, a savings\nbank has been introduced in every school, and the children deposit their\npennies there. It is introduced into the paying schools as well as the\nfree schools; for habits of thrift are as useful to men and women of the\nricher as of the poorer classes. The results of the lessons on Economy\nhave been highly satisfactory.[1] The children belonging to the schools\nof Ghent have accumulated eighteen thousand pounds, which is deposited\nin the State Savings Bank at three per cent. interest. This system is\nspreading into Holland, France, and Italy. It has also, to a certain\nextent, been adopted in this country. Thus Glasgow, Liverpool,\nBirmingham, Great Ilford, and the London Orphan Asylum, all show\nspecimens of School Banks; and we trust that, before long, they will be\nestablished in every school throughout the kingdom.\n\n[Footnote 1: A pamphlet published at Ghent says of the paying schools:\n\"The spirit of economy is introduced there under the form of charity.\nThe young girls buy with their pocket money, firstly materials, say\ncotton or linen, of which they afterwards make articles of dress during\nthe hours set aside for manual work: afterwards the shirts, stockings,\ndresses, handkerchiefs, or aprons, are distributed to the poorer\nchildren of the free schools. The distribution Becomes the object of a\nlittle holiday: we know of nothing that can be more touching. The poor\nchildren are assembled in the Collier school; our young ladies go were\nalso; one of them says a few words feelingly to her sisters in the\npoorer classes; one of the girls of the free schools replies. Then the\npretty and useful things which have been made during the last year are\ndistributed. It is the donors themselves who present the fruits of their\nlabour to the poorest among the poor. The distribution is intermingled\nwith singing. Need we reiterate the blessings of this blessed economy?\"]\n\nIt will be obvious, from what has been said, that the practice of\neconomy depends very much upon the facilities provided for the laying by\nof small sums of money. Let a convenient savings bank be provided, and\ndeposits gradually flow into it. Let a military savings bank be\nestablished, and private soldiers contrive to save something out of\ntheir small pay. Let penny banks be opened, and crowds of depositors\nimmediately present themselves; even the boys of the ragged schools\nbeing able to put into them considerable sums of money. It is the same\nwith school banks, as we have seen from the example of the\nschool-children of Ghent.\n\nNow, fifteen years ago, this country was very insufficiently provided\nwith savings banks for the people. There were then many large towns and\nvillages altogether unprovided with them. Lancashire had only thirty\nsavings banks for upwards of two millions of people. The East Riding of\nYorkshire had only four savings banks. There were fifteen counties in\nthe United Kingdom which had not a single savings bank. There were only\nabout six hundred savings banks for about thirty millions of people.\nThese were open only for two or three hours in the week; some were open\nfor only four hours in the month. The workman who had money to save, had\nto carry his spare shillings in his pocket for some time before he could\nlay them by; and in the meantime he might be exposed to constant\ntemptations to spend them. To keep his shillings safe, he must have\nacquired the _habit_ of saving, which it was the object of savings banks\nto train and establish.\n\nDr. Guthrie, in his book on Ragged Schools, published in 1860, said:\n\"How are our manufacturing and handicraft youth situated? By\npublic-houses and spirit-shops they are surrounded with innumerable\ntemptations; while to many of them savings banks are hardly known by\nname. Dissipation has her nets drawn across every street. In many of our\ntowns, sobriety has to run the gauntlet of half-a-dozen spirit-shops in\nthe space of a bow-shot. These are near at hand--open by day, and\nblazing by night, both on Sabbath and Saturday. Drunkenness finds\nimmediate gratification; while economy has to travel a mile, it may be,\nfor her savings bank; and that opens its door to thrift but once or\ntwice a week.\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: Seed-Time and Harvest of Ragged Schools, or a Third Plea,\nwith new editions of the First and Second Plea, p. 99.]\n\nMany suggestions had been made by friends of the poorer classes, whether\nit might not be possible to establish a more extended system of savings\nbanks throughout the country. As long ago as 1807, Mr. Whitbread\nintroduced a Bill into Parliament for the purpose of enabling small\ndeposits to be made at an office to be established in London; the money\nto be remitted by the postmasters of the districts in which the deposits\nwere made. The Bill further contemplated the establishment of a National\nAssurance Society, by means of which working people were to be enabled\nto effect assurances to an extent not exceeding two hundred pounds, and\nto secure annuities to an amount not exceeding twenty pounds. Mr.\nWhitbread's bill was rejected, and nothing came of his suggestions.\n\nThe exertions of Sir Rowland Hill having given great vitality to the\nPost Office system, and extended its usefulness as a public institution\nin all directions, it was next suggested that the money-order offices\n(which were established in 1838) might be applied for the purpose of\ndepositing as well as for transmitting money. Professor Hancock\npublished a pamphlet on the subject in 1852. In November, 1856, Mr. John\nBullar, the eminent counsel--whose attention had been directed to the\nsubject by the working of the Putney Penny Bank--suggested to the Post\nOffice authorities the employment of money-order offices as a means of\nextending the savings-bank system; but his suggestion did not meet with\napproval at the time, and nothing came of it. Similar suggestions were\nmade by other gentlemen--by Mr. Hume, by Mr. M'Corquodale, by Captain\nStrong, by Mr. Ray Smee, and others.\n\nBut it was not until Mr. Sikes, of Huddersfield, took up the question,\nthat these various suggestions became embodied in facts. Suggestions are\nalways useful. They arouse thinking. The most valuable are never lost,\nbut at length work themselves into facts. Most inventions are the result\nof original suggestions. Some one attempts to apply the idea. Failures\noccur at first; but with greater knowledge, greater experience, and\ngreater determination, the suggestion at last succeeds.\n\nPost Office Savings Banks owe their success, in the first place, to the\nnumerous suggestions made by Mr. Whitbread and others; next to Sir\nRowland Hill who by establishing the Branch Post Offices for the\ntransmission of money, made the suggestions practicable; next to Mr.\nSikes, who took up the question in 1850, pushed it, persevered with it,\nand brought it under the notice of successive Chancellors of the\nExchequer; and lastly to Mr. Gladstone, who, having clearly foreseen the\nimmense benefits of Post Office Savings Banks, brought in a Bill and\ncarried it through Parliament in 1861.\n\nThe money-order department of the Post Office had suggested to Mr.\nSikes, as it had already done to other observers, that the organization\nalready existed for making Post Office Savings Banks practicable\nthroughout the kingdom. Wherever the local inspector found that as many\nas five money-orders were required in a week, the practice was to make\nthat branch of the Post Office a money-order office. It was estimated\nthat such an office was established on an average within three miles of\nevery working man's door in the kingdom. The offices were open daily.\nThey received money from all comers, and gave vouchers for the amounts\ntransmitted through them. They held the money until it was drawn, and\npaid it out on a proper voucher being presented. The Post Office was, in\nfact, a bank for the transmission of money, holding it for periods of\nfrom twenty-four hours to weeks and months. By enabling it to receive\nmore money from more depositors, and by increasing the time of holding\nit, allowing the usual interest, it became to all intents and purposes a\nNational bank of deposit.\n\nThe results of the Post Office Savings Banks Act have proved entirely\nsatisfactory. The money-order offices have been largely extended. They\nare now about four thousand in number; consequently the facilities for\nsaving have been nearly doubled since the banks were established. The\nnumber in the London district is now about four hundred and sixty, so\nthat from any point in the thickly populated parts of the metropolis, a\nSavings Bank may be found within a distance of a few hundred yards. The\nnumber of the depositors at the end of 1873 amounted to more than a\nmillion and a half; while the amount of deposits reached over twenty-one\nmillions sterling.[1] At the same time the amount deposited with the\noriginal Savings Banks remained about the same.\n\n[Footnote 1: The amount reached \u00a323,157,469 at the end of 1874.]\n\nPost Office Savings Banks possess several great advantages which ought\nto be generally known. The banks are very widely diffused, and are open\nfrom nine in the morning until six in the evening, and on Saturdays\nuntil nine at night. Persons may make a deposit of a shilling, or of any\nnumber of shillings, provided more than thirty pounds is not deposited\nin any one year. The Post Office officers furnish the book in which the\nseveral deposits are entered. The book also contains the regulations of\nthe Post Office Savings Banks. Interest is allowed at the rate of two\npounds ten shillings per cent, per annum.\n\nAnother most important point is, the Security. Government is responsible\nfor the full amount paid in; so that the money deposited with the Post\nOffice Savings Bank is as safe as if it were in the Bank of England. The\nmoney saved may also be transferred from place to place, without\nexpense, and may be easily paid to the depositor when required, no\nmatter where it was originally deposited. All that is done, is done in\nperfect secrecy between the depositor and the postmaster, who is\nforbidden to disclose the names of the depositors.\n\nWe have frequently alluded to Mr. Charles William Sikes in connection\nwith Penny Banks and Post Office Savings Banks. His name must always\nhold a distinguished place in connection with those valuable\ninstitutions. He is the son of a private banker in Huddersfield. When at\nschool he was presented, as a prize, with a copy of Dr. Franklin's\nEssays and Letters. He perused the book with avidity. It implanted in\nhis mind the germs of many useful thoughts, and exercised a powerful\ninfluence in giving a practical character to his life. Huddersfield is a\nbusy manufacturing town. Although workmen were well paid for their\nlabour, there were many ups and downs in their business. When trade\nbecame slack, and they had spent all that they had earned, numbers of\nthem were accustomed to apply for charity in the streets or by the\nwayside. Young Sikes often wondered whether these people had ever heard\nof Dr. Franklin, and of his method of avoiding beggary or bad times by\nsaving their money when trade was brisk and they were well off.\n\nEarly in 1833, Mr. Sikes entered the service of the Huddersfield Banking\nCompany. It was the second joint stock bank that had been established in\nEngland. The prudence and success with which the Scotch banking\ncompanies had been conducted induced the directors to select a Scotch\nmanager. One of the first resolutions the directors adopted, was to give\ndeposit receipts for sums of ten pounds and upwards, for the purpose of\nencouraging the working classes in habits of providence and thrift. Mr.\nSikes, being somewhat of a favourite with the manager, often heard from\nhis lips most interesting accounts of the provident habits of the Scotch\npeasantry, and was informed by him of the fact that one of the banks at\nPerth paid not less than twenty thousand pounds a year as interest on\ndeposits varying from ten to two hundred pounds each.\n\nIn 1837, Mr. Sikes became one of the cashiers of the company. This\nbrought him into direct contact and intercourse with the very class\nwhich, from the direction his mind was taking, he so much wished to\nunderstand,--namely, the thrifty portion of the industrious classes. A\nconsiderable number of them had sums lying at interest. As years rolled\non, Mr. Sikes often witnessed the depositor commencing with ten or\ntwenty pounds, then make permanent additions to his little store, until\nat length the amount would reach one, two, or, in a few instances, even\nthree hundred pounds. Mr. Sikes would often imagine the marvellous\nimprovement that would be effected on the condition of the working\nclasses, if every one of them became influenced by the same frugality\nand forethought, which induced these exceptional operatives to deposit\ntheir savings at his bank.\n\nAbout that time, trade was in a wretched condition. The handloom weavers\nwere almost entirely without employment. Privation and suffering\nprevailed on every side, and these were often borne with silent and\nnoble heroism. Various remedies were proposed for the existing evils.\nSocialism, chartism, and free trade, were the favourites. Theories of\nthe wildest and most impracticable character abounded, and yet even in\nthose dark days there were instances of men who had to some degree made\nthe future predominate over the present, who could fall back upon their\nreserve in the Joint Stock or Savings Bank to tide them over into better\ntimes. Believing in the beneficent results of free trade, Mr. Sikes was\nequally convinced that national prosperity, as well as national\nadversity, might be attended with great evils, unless the masses were\nendowed with habits of providence and thrift, and prepared by previous\neducation for the \"good time coming\" so eloquently predicted by the\norators of the League.\n\nMany discussions with working men, in his homeward evening walks,\nconvinced Mr. Sikes that there were social problems with which\nlegislation would be almost powerless to grapple, and of these the\nthriftlessness of the masses of the people was one. An employer of five\nhundred handloom weavers had told Mr. Sikes that in a previous period of\nprosperity, when work was abundant and wages were very high, he could\nnot, had he begged on bended knee, have induced his men to save a single\npenny, or to lay by anything for a rainy day. The fancy waistcoating\ntrade had uniformly had its cycles of alternate briskness and\ndepression; but experience, however stern its teachings, could not teach\nunwilling learners. It was at this period that Mr. Sikes was reading the\nlate Archbishop Sumner's \"Records of Creation,\" and met with the\nfollowing passage: \"The only true secret of assisting the poor, is to\nmake them agents in bettering their own condition.\"\n\nSimple as are the words, they shed light into Mr. Sikes's mind, and\nbecame the keynote and the test to which he brought the various views\nand theories which he had previously met with. Doles and charities,\nthough founded frequently on the most benevolent motives, were too often\ndeteriorating to their recipients. On the other hand, if self-reliance\nand self-help--the columns of true majesty in man--could only be made\ncharacteristics of the working classes generally, nothing could retard\ntheir onward and upward progress. Mr. Sikes observed that until the\nworking classes had more of the money power in their hands, they would\nstill be periodically in poverty and distress. He saw that if provident\nhabits could only he generally pursued by them, the face of society\nwould immediately be transformed; and he resolved, in so far as lay in\nhis power, to give every aid to this good work.\n\nIn 1850, Savings Banks were only open a very few hours in each week. In\nHuddersfield, where more than \u00a3400,000 a year was paid in wages, the\nsavings bank, after having been established over thirty years, had only\naccumulated \u00a374,332. In 1850, Mr. Sikes addressed an anonymous letter to\nthe editors of the _Leeds Mercury_, to which, by their request, he\nafterwards attached his name. In that letter he recommended the\nformation of Penny Savings Banks in connection with Mechanics' and\nsimilar institutes. In simple words, but with many telling facts, he\nshowed how the young men and the young women of the working classes were\ngrowing up deprived of almost every opportunity of forming habits of\nthrift, and of becoming depositors in savings hanks.\n\nThe letter was received with general approbation. The committee of the\nYorkshire Union of Mechanics' Institutes gave their cordial sanction to\nit; and Penny Banks were established in connection with nearly every\nMechanics' Institute in Yorkshire. Mr. Sikes personally conducted one at\nHuddersfield; and down to the present time, it has received and repaid\nabout thirty thousand pounds. In fact, the working people of\nHuddersfield, doubtless owing in a great measure to the practical\nexample of Mr. Sikes,--have become most provident and thrifty,--the\ndeposits in their savings bank having increased from seventy-four\nthousand pounds in 1850, to three hundred and thirty thousand pounds in\n1874.\n\nIn 1854, Mr. Sikes published his excellent pamphlet on \"Good Times, or\nthe Savings Bank and the Fireside,\" to which we have already referred.\nThe success which it met with induced him to give his attention to the\nsubject of savings banks generally. He was surprised to find that they\nwere so utterly inadequate to meet the requirements of the country. He\nsought an interview with Sir Cornewall Lewis, then Chancellor of the\nExchequer, and brought the subject under his consideration. The\nChancellor requested Mr. Sikes to embody his views in a letter, and in\nthe course of a few months there appeared a pamphlet addressed to Sir\nCornewall Lewis, entitled \"Savings Banks Reforms.\" Mr. Sikes insisted on\nthe Government guarantee being given for deposits made in Savings Banks;\nbut this was refused.\n\nMr. Sikes next proceeded to ventilate the question of Post Office\nSavings Banks. He was disappointed that no measure for the improvement\nof Savings Banks had been adopted by Parliament. The day appeared very\ndistant when his cherished wish would be realized,--that the Savings\nBank should really become the Bank of the People. But the darkest hour\nprecedes the dawn. When he had almost given up the notion of improving\nthe existing Savings Banks, the idea suddenly struck him that in the\nmoney-order office there was the very organization which might be made\nthe basis of a popular Savings Bank.\n\nHe communicated his plan in a letter to his friend Mr. Baines, then\nmember for Leeds. The plan was submitted to Sir Rowland Hill, who\napproved of the suggestions, and considered the scheme \"practicable so\nfar as the Post Office was concerned.\" The plan was then brought under\nthe notice of Mr. Gladstone, who afterwards carried the Bill through\nParliament for the establishment of Post Office Savings Banks throughout\nthe country.\n\nTo use the words of Mr. Sikes himself,--when predicting at the Social\nScience Association the success of the Post Office Savings\nBanks,--\"Should the plan be carried out, it will soon be doing a\nglorious work. Wherever a Bank is opened and deposits received,\nself-reliance will to some extent be aroused, and, with many, a nobler\nlife will be begun. They will gradually discern how ruthless an enemy is\nimprovidence to working men; and how truly his friends are economy and\nforethought. Under their guidance, household purchases could be made on\nthe most favourable terms--_for cash;_ any wished-for house taken at the\nlowest rent _for punctual payment_; and the home enriched with comforts\nuntil it is enjoyed and prized by all. From such firesides go forth\nthose inheriting the right spirit,--loving industry, loving thrift, and\nloving home. Emulous of a good example, they in their day and generation\nwould nobly endeavour to lay by a portion of their income. Many a hard\nwinter and many a slack time would be comfortably got over by drawing on\nthe little fund, to be again replenished in better days. And if the plan\nwere adopted, remembering that it would virtually bring the Savings Bank\nwithin less than an hour's walk of the fireside of every working man in\nthe United Kingdom, I trust that it is not taking too sanguine a view to\nanticipate that it would render aid in ultimately winning over the rank\nand file of the industrial classes of the kingdom to those habits of\nforethought and self-denial which bring enduring reward to the\nindividual, and materially add to the safety of the State.\"\n\nThe working classes have not yet, however, taken full advantage of the\nfacilities for saving afforded them by the Post Office Savings Banks.\nTake Birmingham for instance, where the artizans are among the best-paid\nworkmen of the town. In the list of depositors in the Post Office\nSavings Banks, we find that the artizans rank after the domestic\nservants, after the married and unmarried women, and after the miners.\nThey only constitute about one-tenth of the entire depositors, though it\nis possible that they may deposit their savings in some other\ninvestments.\n\nThen take the returns for the entire United Kingdom. Out of every ten\nthousand depositors in the Post Office Savings Banks, we find that the\ndomestic servants are again the first; next, the women, married and\nsingle; next, persons of \"no occupation\" and \"occupations not given;\"\nnext, the artizans, and after them, the labourers, miners, tradesmen,\nsoldiers and sailors, clerks, milliners and dressmakers, professional\nmen, and public officials, in the order stated. We must, however, regard\nthe institution as still too young to have fully taken root. We believe\nthat the living generation must pass away before the full fruits of the\nPost Office Savings Banks can be gathered in.\n\nThe inhabitants of Preston have exhibited a strong disposition to save\ntheir earnings during the last few years,--more especially since the\nconclusion of the last great strike. There is no town in England,\nexcepting perhaps Huddersfield, where the people have proved themselves\nso provident and so thrifty. Fifty years ago, only one person in thirty\nof the population of Preston deposited money in the Savings Bank; twenty\nyears ago, the depositors increased to one in eleven; and last year they\nhad increased to one in five. In 1834, the sum of a hundred and\nsixty-five thousand pounds had been accumulated in the Savings Bank by\n5,942 depositors; and in 1874, four hundred and seventy-two thousand\npounds had been accumulated by 14,792 depositors, out of a total\npopulation of 85,428. Is there any other town or city that can show a\nmore satisfactory result of the teaching, the experience, and the\nprosperity of the last twenty years?\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\nLITTLE THINGS.\n\n\n\"The sober comfort, all the peace which springs\n From the large aggregate of little things;\n On these small cares of daughter, wife, or friend,\n The almost sacred joys of Home depend.\"--_Hannah More_.\n\n\"Know when to spend and when to spare,\n And when to buy, and thou shalt ne'er be bare.\"\n\n\"He that despiseth little things, shall perish by little and\nlittle.\"--_Ecclesiasticus_.\n\n\nNeglect of small things is the rock on which the great majority of the\nhuman race have split. Human life consists of a succession of small\nevents, each of which is comparatively unimportant, and yet the\nhappiness and success of every man depends upon the manner in which\nthese small events are dealt with. Character is built up on little\nthings,--little things well and honourably transacted. The success of a\nman in business depends on his attention to little things. The comfort\nof a household is the result of small things well arranged and duly\nprovided for. Good government can only be accomplished in the same\nway,--by well-regulated provisions for the doing of little things.\n\nAccumulations of knowledge and experience of the most valuable kind are\nthe result of little bits of knowledge and experience carefully\ntreasured up. Those who learn nothing or accumulate nothing in life, are\nset down as failures,--because they have neglected little things. They\nmay themselves consider that the world has gone against them; but in\nfact they have been their own enemies. There has long been a popular\nbelief in \"good luck;\" but, like many other popular notions, it is\ngradually giving way. The conviction is extending that diligence is the\nmother of good luck; in other words, that a man's success in life will\nbe proportionate to his efforts, to his industry, to his attention to\nsmall things. Your negligent, shiftless, loose fellows never meet with\nluck; because the results of industry are denied to those who will not\nuse the proper efforts to secure them.\n\nIt is not luck, but labour, that makes men. Luck, says an American\nwriter, is ever waiting for something to turn up; Labour, with keen eye\nand strong will, always turns up something. Luck lies in bed and wishes\nthe postman would bring him news of a legacy; Labour turns out at six,\nand with busy pen or ringing hammer lays the foundation of a competence.\nLuck whines; Labour whistles. Luck relies on chance; Labour on\ncharacter. Luck slips downwards to self-indulgence; Labour strides\nupward, and aspires to independence.\n\nThere are many little things in the household, attention to which is\nindispensable to health and happiness. Cleanliness consists in attention\nto a number of apparent trifles--the scrubbing of a floor, the dusting\nof a chair, the cleansing of a teacup,--but the general result of the\nwhole is an atmosphere of moral and physical well-being,--a condition\nfavourable to the highest growth of human character. The kind of air\nwhich circulates in a house may seem a small matter,--for we cannot see\nthe air, and few people know anything about it. Yet if we do not provide\na regular supply of pure air within our houses, we shall inevitably\nsuffer for our neglect. A few specks of dirt may seem neither here nor\nthere, and a closed door or window would appear to make little\ndifference; but it may make the difference of a life destroyed by fever;\nand therefore the little dirt and the little bad air are really very\nserious matters. The whole of the household regulations are, taken by\nthemselves, trifles--but trifles tending to an important result.\n\nA pin is a very little thing in an article of dress, but the way in\nwhich it is put into the dress often reveals to you the character of the\nwearer. A shrewd fellow was once looking out for a wife, and was on a\nvisit to a family of daughters with this object. The fair one, of whom\nhe was partially enamoured, one day entered the room in which he was\nseated with her dress partially unpinned, and her hair untidy: he never\nwent back. You may say, such a fellow was \"not worth a pin;\" but he was\nreally a shrewd fellow, and afterwards made a good husband. He judged of\nwomen as of men--by little things; and he was right.\n\nA druggist advertised for an assistant, and he had applications from a\nscore of young man. He invited them all to come to his shop at the same\ntime, and set them each to make up a pennyworth of salts into a packet.\nHe selected the one that did this little thing in the neatest and most\nexpert manner. He inferred their general practical ability from their\nperformance of this smallest bit of business.\n\nNeglect of little things has ruined many fortunes and marred the best of\nenterprises. The ship which bore home the merchant's treasure was lost\nbecause it was allowed to leave the port from which it sailed with a\nvery little hole in the bottom. For want of a nail the shoe of the\naide-de-camp's horse was lost; for want of the shoe, the horse was lost;\nfor want of the horse, the aide-de-camp himself was lost, for the enemy\ntook him and killed him; and for want of the aide-de camp's\nintelligence, the army of his general was lost: and all because a little\nnail had not been properly fixed in a horse's shoe!\n\n\"It will do!\" is the common phrase of those who neglect little things.\n\"It will do!\" has blighted many a character, blasted many a fortune,\nsunk many a ship, burnt down many a house, and irretrievably ruined\nthousands of hopeful projects of human good. It always means stopping\nshort of the right thing. It is a makeshift. It is a failure and defeat.\nNot what \"will do,\" but what is the best possible thing to do,--is the\npoint to be aimed at! Let a man once adopt the maxim of \"It will do,\"\nand he is given over to the enemy,--he is on the side of incompetency\nand defeat,--and we give him up as a hopeless subject!\n\nM. Say, the French political economist, has related the following\nillustration of the neglect of little things. Once, at a farm in the\ncountry, there was a gate enclosing the cattle and poultry, which was\nconstantly swinging open for want of a proper latch. The expenditure of\na penny or two, and a few minutes' time, would have made all right. It\nwas on the swing every time a person went out, and not being in a state\nto shut readily, many of the poultry were from time to time lost. One\nday a fine young porker made his escape, and the whole family, with the\ngardener, cook, and milkmaid, turned out in quest of the fugitive. The\ngardener was the first to discover the pig, and in leaping a ditch to\ncut off his escape, got a sprain that kept him to his bed for a\nfortnight. The cook, on her return to the farm-house, found the linen\nburnt that she had hung up before the fire to dry; and the milkmaid,\nhaving forgotten in her haste to tie up the cattle in the cow-house, one\nof the loose cows had broken the leg of a colt that happened to be kept\nin the same shed. The linen burnt and the gardener's work lost were\nworth full five pounds, and the colt worth nearly double that money: so\nthat here was a loss in a few minutes of a large sum, purely for want of\na little latch which might have been supplied for a few halfpence. Life\nis full of illustrations of a similar kind. When small things are\nhabitually neglected, ruin is not far off. It is the hand of the\ndiligent that maketh rich; and the diligent man or woman is attentive to\nsmall things as well as great. The things may appear very little and\ninsignificant, yet attention to them is as necessary as to matters of\ngreater moment.\n\nTake, for instance, the humblest of coins--a penny. What is the use of\nthat little piece of copper--a solitary penny? What can it buy? Of what\nuse is it? It is half the price of a glass of beer. It is the price of a\nbox of matches. It is only fit for giving to a beggar. And yet how much\nof human happiness depends upon the spending of the penny well.\n\nA man may work hard, and earn high wages; but if he allows the pennies,\nwhich are the result of hard work, to slip out of his fingers--some\ngoing to the beershop, some this way, and some that,--he will find that\nhis life of hard work is little raised above a life of animal drudgery.\nOn the other hand, if he take care of the pennies--putting some weekly\ninto a benefit society or an insurance fund, others into a savings bank,\nand confides the rest to his wife to be carefully laid out, with a view\nto the comfortable maintenance and culture of his family,--he will soon\nfind that his attention to small matters will abundantly repay him, in\nincreasing means, in comfort at home, and in a mind comparatively free\nfrom fears as to the future.\n\nAll savings are made up of little things. \"Many a little makes a\nmickle.\" Many a penny makes a pound. A penny saved is the seed of pounds\nsaved. And pounds saved mean comfort, plenty, wealth, and independence.\nBut the penny must be earned honestly. It is said that a penny earned\nhonestly is better than a shilling given. A Scotch proverb says, \"The\ngear that is gifted is never sae sweet as the gear that is won.\" What\nthough the penny be black? \"The smith and his penny are both black.\" But\nthe penny earned by the smith is an honest one.\n\nIf a man does not know how to save his pennies or his pounds, his nose\nwill always be kept to the grindstone. Want may come upon him any day,\n\"like an armed man.\" Careful saving acts like magic: once begun, it\ngrows into habit. It gives a man a feeling of satisfaction, of strength,\nof security. The pennies he has put aside in his savings box, or in the\nsavings bank, give him an assurance of comfort in sickness, or of rest\nin old age. The man who saves has something to weather-fend him against\nwant; while the man who saves not has nothing between him and bitter,\nbiting poverty.\n\nA man may be disposed to save money, and lay it by for sickness or for\nother purposes; but he cannot do this unless his wife lets him, or helps\nhim. A prudent, frugal, thrifty woman is a crown of glory to her\nhusband. She helps him in all his good resolutions; she may, by quiet\nand gentle encouragement, bring out his better qualities; and by her\nexample she may implant in him noble principles, which are the seeds of\nthe highest practical virtues.\n\nThe Rev. Mr. Owen, formerly of Bilston,--a good friend and adviser of\nworking people,--used to tell a story of a man who was not an economist,\nbut was enabled to become so by the example of his wife. The man was a\ncalico-printer at Manchester, and he was persuaded by his wife, on their\nwedding-day, to allow her two half-pints of ale a day, as her share. He\nrather winced at the bargain, for, though a drinker himself, he would\nhave preferred a perfectly sober wife. They both worked hard; and he,\npoor man, was seldom out of the public-house as soon as the factory was\nclosed.\n\nShe had her daily pint, and he, perhaps, had his two or three quarts,\nand neither interfered with the other? except that, at odd times, she\nsucceeded, by dint of one little gentle artifice or another, to win him\nhome an hour or two earlier at night; and now and then to spend an\nentire evening in his own house. They had been married a year, and on\nthe morning of their wedding anniversary, the husband looked askance at\nher neat and comely person, with some shade of remorse, as he said,\n\"Mary, we've had no holiday since we were wed; and, only that I have not\na penny in the world, we'd take a jaunt down to the village, to see thee\nmother.\"\n\n\"Would'st like to go, John? \"said she, softly,between a smile and a\ntear, so glad to hear him speak so kindly,--so like old times. \"If\nthee'd like to go, John, I'll stand treat.\"\n\n\"Thou stand treat!\" said he, with half a sneer: \"Has't got a fortun',\nwench?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said she, \"but I've gotten the pint o' ale.\"\n\n\"Gotten what?\" said he.\n\n\"The pint o' ale!\" said she.\n\nJohn still didn't understand her, till the faithful creature reached\ndown an old stocking from under a loose brick up the chimney, and\ncounted out her daily pint of ale in the shape of three hundred and\nsixty-five threepences, _i.e.,_ \u00a34 11_s._ 3_d._, and put them into his\nhand, exclaiming, \"Thou shalt have thee holiday, John!\"\n\nJohn was ashamed, astonished, conscience-stricken, charmed, and wouldn't\ntouch it. \"Hasn't thee had thy share? Then I'll ha' no more! \"he said.\nHe kept his word. They kept their wedding-day with mother,--and the\nwife's little capital was the nucleus of a series of frugal investments,\nthat ultimately swelled out into a shop, a factory, warehouses, a\ncountry seat, carriage, and, perhaps, a Liverpool Mayor.\n\nIn the same way, a workman of even the humblest sort, whose prosperity\nand regularity of conduct show to his fellow-workmen what industry,\ntemperance, manly tenderness, and superiority to low and sensual\ntemptation can effect, in endearing a home which is bright even amidst\nthe gloom of poverty--such a man does good as well as the most eloquent\nwriter that ever wrote. If there were a few patriarchs of the people\nsuch as this, their beneficial influence would soon be sensibly felt by\nsociety at large. A life well spent is worth any number of speeches. For\nexample is a language far more eloquent than words: it is instruction in\naction--wisdom at work.\n\nA man's daily life is the best test of his moral and social state. Take\ntwo men, for instance, both working at the same trade and earning the\nsame money; yet how different they may be as respects their actual\ncondition. The one looks a free man; the other a slave. The one lives in\na snug cottage; the other in a mud hovel. The one has always a decent\ncoat to his back; the other is in rags. The children of the one are\nclean, well dressed, and at school; the children of the other are dirty,\nfilthy, and often in the gutter. The one possesses the ordinary comforts\nof life, as well as many of its pleasures and conveniences--perhaps a\nwell-chosen library; the other has few of the comforts of life,\ncertainly no pleasures, enjoyments, nor books. And yet these two men\nearn the same wages. What is the cause of the difference between them?\n\nIt is in this. The one man is intelligent and prudent; the other is the\nreverse. The one denies himself for the benefit of his wife, his family,\nand his home; the other denies himself nothing, but lives under the\ntyranny of evil habits. The one is a sober man, and takes pleasure in\nmaking his home attractive and his family comfortable; the other cares\nnothing for his home and family, but spends the greater part of his\nearnings in the gin-shop or the public-house. The one man looks up; the\nother looks down. The standard of enjoyment of the one is high; and of\nthe other low. The one man likes books, which instruct and elevate his\nmind; the other likes drink, which tends to lower and brutalize him. The\none saves his money; the other wastes it.\n\n\"I say, mate,\" said one workman to another, as they went home one\nevening from their work, \"will you tell me how it is that you contrive\nto get on? how it is that you manage to feed and clothe your family as\nyou do, and put money in the Penny Bank besides; whilst I, who have as\ngood wages as you, and fewer children, can barely make the ends meet?\"\n\n\"Well, I will tell you; it only consists in this--in _taking care of the\npennies!_\"\n\n\"What! Is that all, Ransom?\"\n\n\"Yes, and a good 'all' too. Not one in fifty knows the secret. For\ninstance, Jack, _you_ don't.\"\n\n\"How! I? Let's see how you make that out.\"\n\n\"Now you have asked my secret, I'll tell you all about it. But you must\nnot be offended if I speak plain. First, I pay nothing for my drink.\"\n\n\"Nothing? Then you don't pay your shot, but sponge upon your\nneighbours.\"\n\n\"Never! I drink water, which costs nothing. Drunken days have all their\nto-morrows, as the old proverb says. I spare myself sore heads and shaky\nhands, and save my pennies. Drinking water neither makes a man sick nor\nin debt, nor his wife a widow. And that, let me tell you, makes a\nconsiderable difference in our out-go. It may amount to about\nhalf-a-crown a week, or seven pounds a year. That seven pounds will\nclothe myself and children, while you are out at elbows and your\nchildren go barefoot.\"\n\n\"Come, come, that's going too far. I don't drink at that rate. I may\ntake an odd half-pint now and then; but half-a-crown a week! Pooh!\npooh!\"\n\n\"Well, then, how much did you spend on drink last Saturday night? Out\nwith it.\"\n\n\"Let me see: I had a pint with Jones; I think I had another with Davis,\nwho is just going to Australia; and then I went to the lodge.\"\n\n\"Well, how many glasses had you there?\"\n\n\"How can I tell? I forget. But it's all stuff and nonsense, Bill!\"\n\n\"Oh, you can't tell: you don't know what you spent? I believe you. But\nthat's the way your pennies go, my lad.\"\n\n\"And that's all your secret?\"\n\n\"Yes; take care of the penny--that's all. Because I save, I have, when\nyou want. It's very simple, isn't it?\"\n\n\"Simple, oh yes; but there's nothing in it.\"\n\n\"Yes! there's this in it,--that it has made you ask me the question, how\nI manage to keep my family so comfortably, and put money in the Penny\nBank, while you, with the same wages, can barely make the ends meet.\nMoney is independence, and money is made by putting pennies together.\nBesides, I work so hard for mine,--and so do you,--that I can't find it\nin my heart to waste a penny on drink, when I can put it beside a few\nother hard-earned pennies in the bank. It's something for a sore foot or\na rainy day. There's that in it, Jack; and there's comfort also in the\nthought that, whatever may happen to me, I needn't beg nor go to the\nworkhouse. The saving of the penny makes me feel a free man. The man\nalways in debt, or without a penny beforehand, is little better than a\nslave.\"\n\n\"But if we had our rights, the poor would not be so hardly dealt with as\nthey now are.\"\n\n\"Why, Jack, if you had your rights to-morrow, would they put your money\nback into your pocket after you had spent it?--would your rights give\nyour children shoes and stockings when you had chosen to waste on beer\nwhat would have bought them? Would your rights make you or your wife,\nthriftier, or your hearthstone cleaner? Would rights wash your\nchildren's faces, and mend the holes in your clothes? No, no, friend!\nGive us our rights by all means, but _rights are not habits_, and it's\nhabits we want--good habits. With these we can be free men and\nindependent men _now_, if we but determine to be so. Good night, Jack,\nand mind my secret,--it's nothing but _taking care of the pennies_, and\nthe pounds will take care of themselves.\"\n\n\"Good-night!\" And Jack turned off at the lane-end towards his humble and\ndirty cottage in Main's Court. I might introduce you to his home,--but\n\"home\" it could scarcely be called. It was full of squalor and\nuntidiness, confusion and dirty children, where a slattern-looking woman\nwas scolding. Ransom's cottage, On the contrary, _was_ a home. It was\nsnug, trig, and neat; the hearthstone was fresh sanded; the wife, though\nher hands were full of work, was clean and tidy; and her husband, his\nday's work over, could sit down with his children about him, in peace\nand comfort.\n\nThe _chief secret_ was now revealed. Ransom's secret, about the penny,\nwas a very good one, so far as it went. But he had not really told the\nwhole truth. He could not venture to tell his less fortunate comrade\nthat the root of all domestic prosperity, the mainstay of all domestic\ncomfort, is _the wife_; and Ransom's wife was all that a working man\ncould desire. There can be no thrift, nor economy, nor comfort at home,\nunless the wife helps;--and a working man's wife, more than any other\nman's; for she is wife, Housekeeper, nurse, and servant, all in one. If\nshe be thriftless, putting money into her hands is like pouring water\nthrough a sieve. Let her be frugal, and she will make her home a place\nof comfort, and she will also make her husband's life happy,--if she do\nnot lay the foundation of his prosperity and fortune.\n\nOne would scarcely expect that for a penny a day it would be possible to\nobtain anything valuable. And yet it may be easily shown how much a\npenny a day, carefully expended, might do towards securing a man's\nindependence, and providing his wife and family against the future\npressure of poverty and want.\n\nTake up a prospectus and tables of a Provident Society, intended for the\nuse of those classes who have a penny a day to spend,--that is, nearly\nall the working classes of the country. It is not necessary to specify\nany particular society, because the best all proceed upon the same\ndata,--the results of extensive observations and experience of health\nand sickness;--and their tables of rates, certified by public actuaries,\nare very nearly the same. Now, looking at the tables of these Life and\nSickness Assurance Societies, let us see what a penny a day can do.\n\n1. For _a penny a day_, a man or woman of twenty-six years of age may\nsecure the sum of ten shillings a week payable during the time of\nsickness, for the whole of life.\n\n2. For _a penny a day_ (payments ceasing at sixty years of age), a man\nor woman of thirty-one years of age may secure the sum of \u00a350 payable at\ndeath, whenever that event may happen, even though it should be during\nthe week or the month after the assurance has been effected.\n\n3. For _a penny a day_, a young man or woman of fifteen may secure a sum\nof \u00a3100, the payment of the penny a day continuing during the whole of\nlife, but the \u00a3100 being payable whenever death may occur.\n\n4. For _a penny a day_, a young man or woman of twenty may secure an\nannuity of \u00a326 per annum, or of 10_s_. per week for the whole of life,\nafter reaching the age of sixty-five.\n\n5. For _a penny a day_,--the payment commencing from the birth of any\nchild,--a parent may secure the sum of \u00a320, payable on such child\nreaching the age of fourteen years.\n\n6. For _a penny a day_, continued until the child readies the age of\ntwenty-one years, the sum of \u00a345 may be secured, to enable him or her to\nbegin business, or start housekeeping.\n\n7. For _a penny a day_, a young man or woman of twenty-four may secure\nthe sum of \u00a3100, payable on reaching the age of sixty, with the right of\nwithdrawing four-fifths of the amount paid in, at any time; the whole of\nthe payments being paid back in event of death occurring before the age\nof sixty.\n\nSuch is the power of _a penny a day!_ Who would have thought it? Yet it\nis true, as any one can prove by looking at the tables of the best\nassurance offices. Put the penny a day in the bank, and it accumulates\nslowly. Even there, however, it is very useful. But with the assurance\noffice it immediately assumes a vast power. A penny a day paid in by the\nman of thirty-one, is worth \u00a360 to his wife and family, in the event of\nhis dying next month or next year! It is the combining of small savings\nfor purposes of mutual assurance, by a large number of persons, that\ngives to the penny its enormous power.\n\nThe effecting of a life assurance by a working man, for the benefit of\nhis wife and children, is an eminently unselfish act. It is a moral as\nwell as a religious transaction. It is \"providing for those of his own\nhousehold.\" It is taking the right step towards securing the\nindependence of his family, after he, the bread-winner, has been called\naway. This right investment of _the pennies_ is the best proof of\npractical virtue, and of the honest forethought and integrity of a true\nman.\n\nThe late Joseph Baxendale was the constant friend of the working people\nwho co-operated with him in the labours of his life. He was a man of\nstrong common sense, and might have been styled the Franklin of\nBusiness. He was full of proverbial wisdom, and also full of practical\nhelp. He was constantly urging his servants to lay by something for a\nrainy day, or for their support in old age. He also used to pension off\nhis old servants after they had ceased to be able to work.\n\nHe posted up Texts along his warehouses, so that those who ran might\nread. \"Never despair,\" \"Nothing without labour,\" \"He who spends all he\ngets, is on the way to beggary,\" \"Time lost cannot be regained,\" \"Let\nindustry, temperance, and economy be the habits of your lives.\" These\ntexts were printed in large type, so that every passer-by might read\nthem; while many were able to lay them to heart, and to practise the\nadvices which they enjoined.\n\nOn other occasions Mr. Baxendale would distribute amongst his\nworkpeople, or desire to be set up in his warehouses and places of\nbusiness, longer and more general maxims. He would desire these printed\ndocuments to be put up in the offices of the clerks, or in places where\nmen are disposed to linger, or to take their meals, or to assemble\npreparatory to work. They were always full of valuable advice. We copy\none of them, on the Importance of Punctuality:--\n\n\"Method is the hinge of business; and there is no method without\nPunctuality. Punctuality is important, because it subserves the Peace\nand Good Temper of a family. The want of it not only infringes on\nnecessary Duty, but sometimes excludes this duty. The calmness of mind\nwhich it produces is another advantage of Punctuality. A disorderly man\nis always in a hurry. He has no time to speak to you, because he is\ngoing elsewhere; and when he gets there, he is too late for his\nbusiness, or he must hurry away to another before he can finish it.\nPunctuality gives weight to character. 'Such a man has made an\nappointment; then I know he will keep it.' And this generates\nPunctuality in you; for, like other virtues, it propagates itself.\nServants and children must be punctual, when their Leader is so.\nAppointments, indeed, become debts. I owe you Punctuality, if I have\nmade an appointment with you, and have no right to throw away your time,\nif I do my own.\"\n\nSome may inquire, \"Who was Joseph Baxendale?\" He was, in fact, Pickford\nand Co., the name of a firm known all over England, as well as\nthroughout the Continent. Mr. Baxendale was the son of a physician at\nLancaster. He received a good education, went into the cotton trade, and\ncame up to London to represent the firm with which he was connected. A\nperiod of commercial pressure having occurred, he desired to leave the\ncotton trade and to enter upon some other business. Mr. Pickford had\nalready begun the business of a Carrier, but he was hampered by want of\nmoney. Mr. Baxendale helped him with capital, and for a time remained a\nsleeping partner; but finding that the business made no progress,\nprincipally for want of management, he eventually determined to take the\nactive part in working and managing the concern.\n\nHe threw his whole energies into the firm of Pickford and Co. He\nreorganized the agencies, and extended them throughout the kingdom. He\nput flying vans upon the road, equal to our express trains; and slow\nvans, equal to our goods trains. He utilized the canals to a large\nextent, putting on flying boats between all the larger towns. Indeed the\nroads of the country were then so bad, that in certain seasons it was\nalmost impossible to convey merchandize from one part of the country to\nanother.\n\nThe carrying on of such an important and extensive business required\nmuch capital, great energy, and first-rate business management. The\nhorses necessary to carry on the traffic were increased from about\nfifty, which they were in the time of Pickford, to more than a thousand;\nfor relays of horses were necessary at all the stopping-places on the\nline of traffic, between London and Manchester, between London and\nExeter, and between London and Edinburgh. A ship-building yard was\nestablished, where all the boats, flying and slow, required to carry on\nthe business, were constructed at Mr. Baxendale's expense.\n\nThe carrying business required a great deal of personal supervision.\nOnly a man of determined spirit and indomitable energy could have done\nit. He had a flying boat in which he rapidly passed along the canals,\nseeing that the men were at their posts, that the agents were at work,\nand the traffic duly provided for. He did this by night as well as by\nday. At other times, he would fly along the roads in his special\ntravelling carriage,--always paying the highest prices to the\ninnkeepers, in order that he might secure the best horses, and avoid\ndelay and loss of time. He would overtake his vans, and see that his men\nwere sober, and that they were well forward at the stations along the\nroad; that their blunderbusses were loaded (for highway robbery was then\none of the risks of travelling by road), that the agents were doing\ntheir duty, and that everything was in proper order.\n\nBesides overtaking the vans, he would sometimes travel by a by-road--for\nhe knew nearly every road in the country--push on, and then double back\nupon his drivers, who never knew whether he was before or behind them;\nand thus general vigilance became the rule of all. By these and various\nother means the business of the concern was admirably done, and the\ncarrying trade of the country was brought to as high a state of\nperfection as was compatible with the then state of the roads and\ncanals.\n\nWhen all this had been accomplished, the disturbing influence of\nrailways began. \"I see mischief in these confounded iron roads,\" said\nthe Duke of Bridgewater. But the time for railways had arrived, and they\ncould not be postponed. The first railroads were used for the conveyance\nof coals from the pits to the seaside, where they were shipped for\nLondon. Then it was proposed that they should be laid for the conveyance\nof goods from town to town; and the largest traffic being in Lancashire,\none of the first railways was constructed between Liverpool and\nManchester, from which towns they were afterwards constructed in all\ndirections throughout the country.\n\nHad Mr. Baxendale resisted the new means of conveyance, he would, before\nlong, have been driven off the road. But he clearly foresaw the ultimate\ntriumph of the railway system; and he went with it, instead of against\nit. He relieved the Liverpool and Manchester Company of a great deal of\ntrouble, by undertaking to manage their goods' traffic and by collecting\nand delivering it at both towns. Then, when the railways from Warrington\nto Birmingham and from Birmingham to London were projected, he gave\nevidence before the committees of Parliament, in proof of the estimated\ntraffic. And when the lines were made, he transferred the goods from his\ncarrying vans to the railway. He thus became a great railway carrier,\ncollecting and delivering goods in all the cities and towns served by\nthe railways which had by that time become established.\n\nHe also became a large shareholder in railways. His status in the\nSouth-Eastern line was so great, that he was invited to become chairman\nof the company. He was instrumental, in conjunction with the late Sir\nWilliam Cubitt, in pushing on the line to Dover. But the Dover Harbour\nBoard being found too stingy in giving accommodation to the traffic, and\ntoo grasping in their charges for harbour dues, Mr. Baxendale at once\nproceeded, on his own responsibility, to purchase Folkestone Harbour as\nthe port of the South-Eastern Company. He next proceeded to get up the\nBoulogne and Amiens Railway, which was for the most part constructed\nwith English capital; and the direct line from London to Paris was thus\ncompleted.\n\nHis arduous labours in connection with his own business, as well as with\nrailway extension, having thrown him into ill-health, he went abroad for\nrepose. While absent, a faction was got up in Liverpool for the purpose\nof appointing another chairman in his stead; and though he was unseated\nby a trick, he himself accepted his dismissal with pleasure. His sons\nwere now able to help him in the conduct of his business, though he\ncontinued to the close of his life to take an interest in everything\nthat was going on. He was never weary of well-doing; he never rested in\ngiving his good advice, the results of his large experience, to the\nassistants, clerks, and working men employed in his various offices. We\nconclude our brief notice of his life by giving another of his\n\"Run-and-Read Sermons,\" which he distributed plentifully among his\n_employ\u00e9s_, and had affixed in various portions of his warehouses. It\nwas entitled \"Good Maxims and Advice.\"\n\n\"An old servant of the concern observed, a short time ago, that he began\nlife in the employ of Pickford, upon low wages, and that by frugality\nand industry he had gained a competency. His maxim was, never to spend\nmore than ninepence out of every shilling. Although this may appear a\ntrifle, recollect that it is five shillings in twenty, ten pounds in\nforty.\n\n\"Suppose a young man to pursue this system: Let him obtain the first\ntwenty pounds, add each year ten pounds, he will at the end of six years\nbe possessed of upwards of one hundred pounds. If in early life the\nopportunity is suffered to pass, it rarely happens that one can save\nmoney when more advanced in years.\n\n\"The concern in which we are engaged has been defrauded by those who\nhave for thirty years received salaries, the savings from which, had\nthey followed the plan that is recommended, would have placed them in\nsituations of comparative affluence; and we should now have seen them\nrespectable members of society.\n\n\"Upon industry and frugality our well-doing depends. It is not great\ntalents, but steady application, that is required. There are none of us\nthat may not obtain stations of respectability. 'God helps them that\nhelp themselves.' 'He that follows pleasure instead of business will\nshortly have no business to follow.'\n\n\"I frequently complain of what may be called trifles, but from these\narising frequently, we are at length lost. Let each attend to his\nrespective duties; keep the appointed hours; and never defer till\nto-morrow what may be done to-day.\n\n\"If business is more pressing than usual, give additional time, that\nyour own accounts may not fall into confusion, and that you may not be\nthe means of causing delay and trouble to others. It often happens that\nthe negligence of individuals throws additional labour upon those who\nare anxious for regularity.\n\n\"Hiding or screening the faults or errors of others, is a system that\nhas prevailed and caused much loss and injury,--frequently to the\noffending party, always to the employer.\n\n\"Late occurrences lead me to draw your attention to this subject: it is\nimportant in every sense, both as regards your public and private\nstations. There is nothing more worthy of a man than truth: nothing\nmakes him feel himself so despicable as a lie. Recollect that men act\nlies without speaking them, and that all false appearances are lies.\n\"He, therefore, who, seeing his employer injured, neglects to make it\nknown, is equally guilty--with this addition, that he is practising a\nlie. Want of punctuality is a lie.\n\n\"Speak and act openly on all occasions. Errors will be fewer, and labour\nwill be decreased.\n\n\"It seldom happens that we can do any important services, but small\nservices are always in use. Take, therefore, every opportunity of\nassisting each other,--you are then most effectually serving your\nemployers, as well as keeping up a spirit of cordiality and goodwill\namongst yourselves.\n\n\"A good Christian must be a good servant. Whatever your lot in life may\nbe above all things remember that 'The fear of God is the beginning of\nwisdom.'\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\nMASTERS AND MEN.\n\n\n\"The sweat of industry would dry, and die,\nBut for the end it workrt to.\" _Shakspeare_.\n\n\"Man is a shop of rules, a well-trussed pack,\nWhose every parcel underwrites a law,\"--_George Herbert_.\n\n\"Care preserves what Industry gains. He who attends to his business\ndiligently but _not_ carefully, throws away with one hand what he\ngathers with the other.\"--_Colton_.\n\n\"The acquisition of property, the accumulation of capital, is already in\nthe power of the better-paid working class; and legislation has but few\nfurther facilities to give, or obstacles to remove. Their savings are\nnow so large that only soberer habits and rounder sense are needed to\nmake them independent capitalists in less than half a lifetime.\"--_W.R.\nGreg_.\n\n\nEmployers can do a great deal towards promoting habits of thrift,\nprudence, and sobriety amongst their workpeople. Though the working man\ndoes not like to be patronized, he has no objections to be helped. We\nhave already seen that individuals can do much; they can cultivate\nhabits of economy, and lay by a certain portion of their earnings for\nhelp in time of need. But they want encouragement and assistance. They\nwant sympathy; they want help.\n\nIf masters fully understood the immense amount of influence which they\npossess, they would extend their sympathy and confidence to their\nworkmen,--which Would cost them so very little, and profit them so very\nmuch. We know of no instance where an employer has displayed a concern\nfor the social well-being and improvement of his workmen, in which he\nhas not been repaid by their increased respect and zeal on his behalf.\nHe may, for instance, arrange that wages shall not be paid so as to\ndrive them into the market late on Saturday nights, when they are often\nunder the necessity of making their weekly purchases at a great\ndisadvantage. Of course, workmen who possess a little store of savings,\nmight make their purchases at greater advantage at any other time. The\nemployer might also avoid paying wages in public-houses, and thus keep\nhis workmen out of the way of incurring an expenditure upon drink, that\nmight prove so hurtful.\n\nBut masters can do more than this. They can actively aid their workmen\nin the formation of prudent habits, by establishing savings banks for\nmen and women, and penny banks for boys and girls; by encouraging the\nformation of provident clubs and building societies, of provision and\nclothing clubs, and in many other ways. They might also distribute among\nthem, without any officious interference, good counsel as to the manner\nin which they might make the best use of their wages. Many large\nemployers have already accomplished much practical good, by encouraging\nthe formation of provident institutions,--in which they have never\nfailed to secure the respect, and generally the co-operation, of their\nworkmen.\n\nAt the same time there is much want of sympathy between masters and men.\nIn fact, want of sympathy pervades all classes--the poorer, the working,\nthe middle, and the upper classes. There are many social gaps between\nthem, which cannot yet be crossed, which cannot yet be united. \"If I\nwere to be asked,\" said Judge Talfourd, on whom Death was at the moment\nlaying his hand, \"what is the great want of English society--to mingle\nclass with class--I would say, in one word, the want is _the want of\nsympathy_.\" A great truth, but not yet appreciated. It is the old truth,\non which Christianity is based, of \"Love one another\"--simple saying,\nbut containing within it a gospel sufficient to renovate the world. But\nwhere men are so split and divided into classes, and are so far removed\nthat they can scarcely be said to know one another, they cannot have a\ndue social regard and consideration, much less a genuine sympathy and\naffection, for each other?\n\nCharity cannot remedy the evil. Giving money, blankets, coals, and\nsuch-like, to the poor--where the spirit of sympathy is wanting,--does\nnot amount to much. The charity of most of the Lord and Lady Bountifuls\nbegins with money, and ends there. The fellow-feeling is absent. The\npoor are not dealt with as if they belonged to the same common family of\nman, or as if the same human heart beat in their breasts.\n\nMasters and servants live in the same unsympathetic state. \"Each for\nhimself\" is their motto. \"I don't care who sinks, so that I swim.\" A man\nat an inn was roused from his slumber; \"There is a fire at the bottom of\nthe street,\" said the waiter. \"Don't disturb _me_\" said the traveller,\n\"until the next house is burning.\" An employer said to his hands, \"You\ntry to get all you can out of me; and I try to get all I can out of\nyou.\" But this will never do. The man who has any sympathy in him cannot\nallow such considerations to overrule his better nature. He must see the\nbrighter side of humanity ever turned towards him. \"Always to think the\nworst,\" said Lord Bolingbroke, \"I have ever found the mark of a mean\nspirit and a base soul.\"\n\nOn the other hand, the operative class consider their interests to be\nquite distinct from those of the master class. They want to get as much\nfor their labour as possible. They want labour to be dear that they may\nsecure high wages. Thus, there being no mutual sympathy nor friendly\nfeeling between the two classes,--but only money\nconsiderations,--collisions are frequent, and strikes occur. Both\nclasses--backed by their fellows determined to \"fight it out,\" and hence\nwe have such destructive strikes as those of Preston, Newcastle, London,\nand South Wales.\n\nThe great end of both is gain, worldly gain, which sometimes involves a\nterrible final loss. A general suspicion of each other spreads, and\nsociety becomes cankered to the core. The remedy is only to be found in\nthe cherishment of a larger Christian sympathy and more genuine\nbenevolence. Thus only can the breath of society be sweetened and\npurified. Money gifts avail nothing, as between rich and poor. Unless\nthere is a soul of goodness, and a real human fellowship between them,\nthe mischief and the curse which the excellent Judge Talfourd lamented\nwith his dying breath will never be overcome.\n\nSome allege that this want of sympathy arises, for the most part, from\nthe evils of Competition. It is \"heartless,\" \"selfish,\" \"mischievous,\"\n\"ruinous,\" and so on. It is said to produce misery and poverty to the\nmillion. It is charged with lowering prices, or almost in the same\nbreath with raising them. Competition has a broad back, and can bear any\namount of burdens.\n\nAnd yet there is something to be said for competition, as well as\nagainst it. It is a struggle,--that must be admitted. All life is a\nstruggle. Amongst workmen, competition is a struggle to advance towards\nhigher wages. Amongst masters, to make the highest profits. Amongst\nwriters, preachers, and politicians, it is a straggle to succeed,--to\ngain glory, reputation, or income. Like everything human, it has a\nmixture of evil in it. If one man prospers more than others, or if some\nclasses of men prosper more than others, they leave other classes of men\nbehind them. Not that they leave those others worse, but that they\nthemselves advance.\n\nPut a stop to competition, and you merely check the progress of\nindividuals and of classes. You preserve a dead uniform level. You\nstereotype society, and its several orders and conditions. The motive\nfor emulation is taken away, and Caste, with all its mischiefs, is\nperpetuated. Stop competition, and you stop the struggle of\nindividualism. You also stop the advancement of individualism, and\nthrough that of society at large.\n\nUnder competition, the lazy man is put under the necessity of exerting\nhimself; and if he will not exert himself, he must fall behind. If he do\nnot work, neither shall he eat. My lazy friend, you must not look to me\nto do my share of the world's work, and yours too! You must do your own\nfair share of work, save your own money, and not look to me and to\nothers to keep you out of the poor-house. There is enough for all; but\ndo your own share of work you must.\n\nSuccess grows out of struggles to overcome difficulties. If there were\nno difficulties, there would be no success. If there were nothing to\nstruggle or compete for, there would be nothing achieved. It is well,\ntherefore, that men should be under the necessity of exerting\nthemselves. In this necessity for exertion, we find the chief source of\nhuman advancement--the advancement of individuals as of nations. It has\nled to most of the splendid mechanical inventions and improvements of\nthe age. It has stimulated the shipbuilder, the merchant, the\nmanufacturer, the machinist, the tradesman, the skilled workman. In all\ndepartments of productive industry, it has been the moving power. Is has\ndeveloped the resources of this and of other countries,--the resources\nof the soil, and the character and qualities of the men who dwell upon\nit. It seems to be absolutely necessary for the purpose of stimulating\nthe growth and culture of every individual. It is deeply rooted in man,\nleading him ever to seek after, and endeavour to realize, something\nbetter and higher than he has yet attained.\n\nOf course, man is much more than a competing being. That is only one of\nhis characteristics, and not the highest or noblest. He has\nsensibilities, sympathies, and aspirations, which should induce him to\nunite and cooperate with others in works for the common good. With\nunfettered individualism, there may, and there ought to be, beneficent\ncooperation for the general happiness. Men may unite to labour, to\nproduce, and to share with each other the fruits of their corporate\nindustry. But under any circumstances, there will be the instinct of\ncompetition, the opportunities for competition, and, though mixed with\nnecessary evil, there will be the ultimate advantages of competition.\n\nOne of the results of industry and thrift is the accumulation of\nCapital. Capital represents the self-denial, the providence, and the\nenterprise of the past. The most successful accumulators of capital have\nin all times risen from the ranks of labour itself; they are working men\nwho have shot ahead of their fellows, and who now give employment\ninstead of receiving it. These persons,--who are not the less working\nmen because they have ceased to be manual labourers,--by creating and\nextending the sphere of productive industry, must be regarded as amongst\nthe most effective benefactors of the people, as they unquestionably are\namong the principal sources of the power and wealth of any nation.\nWithout the capital accumulated by their thrift during many generations,\nthe lot of the artizan would be most precarious.\n\nThere is not a mechanic but has the use of the money of the master who\nemploys him. When the unskilled labourer lays down his spade, he leaves\nidle a capital worth eighteen-pence; but when a skilled artizan or\nmechanic leaves his mill or his workshop, he leaves idle a capital of\nfrom a hundred to two hundred pounds per man. Nor does the skilled\nworkman run any risk whatever as regards the sums invested, though he\nvirtually shares the profits in the shape of the wages paid for his\nlabour. The profit which remains is the master's return for his\nmanagement and his risks. It is well known, however, that the risks are\nnot always covered, as the _Gazette_ in bad times abundantly\ndemonstrates.\n\nThe workman in good employment is not liable to losses by bad debts; he\nhas no obsolete machinery from time to time left useless on his hands;\nand he has no anxiety about finding a market for his goods, nor fears\nrespecting fluctuations in the price of the raw material. These are\nimportant advantages in his favour, which he does not usually take into\naccount. It is true he suffers if trade is bad, but he earns high wages\nif it be good: he can then save money if he chooses to do so. He may be\nsaid to participate in the adversity or prosperity of his firm, but\nwithout incurring any of the liabilities of partnership.\n\nMr. Carlyle has given a curious account of the great English\nmanufacturer. \"Plugson, of St. Dolly Undershot, buccaneer-like, says to\nhis men, 'Noble spinners, this is the hundred thousand we have gained,\nwherein I mean to dwell and plant my vineyards. The hundred thousand is\nmine, the three-and-sixpence daily was yours. Adieu, noble spinners!\ndrink my health with this groat each, which I give you over and above!'\"\n\nThis account of the manufacturing buccaneer is a picture drawn by a man\nof genius from his imagination. There are probably many readers who\nbelieve the picture to be drawn from fact. There may, of course, be\nmasters who are buccaneers; but there are also masters who are not\nbuccaneers. There are dishonest manufacturers, as there are dishonest\nliterary men, dishonest publicans, dishonest tradesmen. But we must\nbelieve that in all occupations honesty is the rule, and dishonesty the\nexception. At all events, it is better that we should know what the\nmanufacturers really are,--from fact rather than from fiction.\n\nLet us first take a large manufacturing firm, or rather series of firms,\nwell known in South Lancashire. We mean the cotton-spinning mills of the\nMessrs. Ashworth at Egerton and New Eagley. They have been in existence\nfor more than seventy years. They have been repeatedly enlarged, and\nincreasing numbers of workpeople have been employed at the uniform wages\npaid throughout the district. Workmen earn from seventeen shillings to\ntwo pounds a week. Women-weavers can earn as much as twenty-one\nshillings a week. Where the parents have children, the united earnings\nof families amount to as much as from \u00a3150 to \u00a3200 a year.\n\nThen, as to what the Ashworths have done for the benefit of their\nworkpeople. Schooling, by means of mutual instruction classes, was in\noperation from the first; but about the year 1825, when the works were\ngreatly enlarged, and the population was considerably increased, a day\nschool was opened for children, which was used as an evening school for\nyoung men, as well as for a Sunday-school. The continued extension of\nthe works led to an enlargement of the school accommodation; and while\nthis was being provided, arrangements were made for a news-room,\nlibrary, and for the performance of divine worship on Sundays. A\ncricket-ground was also provided for the use of young people.\n\nMisgivings were not unfrequently expressed that the zeal and expenditure\nincurred by the Messrs. Ashworth might one day be turned against them,\nto their annoyance and pecuniary loss. The prediction was realized in\nonly a single instance. A young man of considerable talent, who when a\nchild had been removed to the factory from a neighbouring workhouse,\nmade very rapid progress at school, especially in arithmetic; and when a\nstrike of the workpeople occurred in 1830, one of the great strike\nyears, he became very officious as a leader. The strike was defeated by\nthe employment of new hands, and it was attributed to the influence of\nthis young man that the employed were brutally assailed by an infuriated\nmob, and that the windows of the schoolroom were smashed, and other\nworks of destruction committed.\n\nThe employers, nevertheless, pursued their original design. They\nrepaired the school-house, and endeavoured to increase the efficacy of\nthe teaching. They believed that nothing was better calculated to remove\nignorant infatuation than increased schooling. In a great many\ninstances, the heads of the families had previously been engaged as\nhand-loom weavers, or in some pastoral pursuit; and it became evident\nthat in course of time the exercise of their minds in the details of a\nnew pursuit awakened their intelligence, and their general demeanour\nindicated marks of a higher cultivation.\n\nThe New Eagley Mills being situated in a narrow valley, several miles\nfrom Bolton, and the property being in the possession of the owners,\nthey forbade the opening of any tavern or beerhouse on the estate; so\nthat the district became distinguished for the order and sobriety of the\ninhabitants. A man of intemperate habits has little chance of remaining\nin the Ashworth villages. He is expelled, not by the employers, but by\nthe men themselves. He must conform to the sober habits of the place, or\ndecamp to some larger town, where his vices may be hidden in the crowd.\nMany of the parents have expressed how much gratification they have\nfelt, that by reason of the isolated situation they enjoyed as a\ncommunity, they had become so completely separated from the corrupt\ninfluences of music saloons and drink-shops.\n\nThe masters have added to their other obligations to the workpeople, the\nerection of comfortable cottages for their accommodation. They are built\nof stone, and are two-storied; some have two upper bedrooms, and others\nhave three. On the ground floor there is a sitting-room, a living-room,\nand a scullery, with a walled courtyard enclosing the whole premises.\nThe proprietor pays the poor-rates and other local charges, and the\nrentals of the houses vary from 2_s_. 4_d_. to 4_s_. 3_d_. a week.\n\nThe regularity of their employment, accompanied with the payment of\nwages on Friday night, doubtless promoted their local attachment to the\nplace. Many of the descendants of the first comers remain on the spot;\ntheir social relations have been promoted; intermarriages have been\nfrequent; and during the whole period there has not been a single\nprosecution for theft. The working people have also thriven as well as\ntheir masters. Great numbers of them are known to possess reserved funds\nin savings banks and other depositories for savings; and there are\nothers of them who have invested their money in cottage buildings, and\nin various other ways.\n\nBut have not the men risen above their lot of labouring spinners? They\nhave. Such of them as possessed skill, ability, and the faculty of\norganization, have been promoted from the ranks of labourers, and have\nbecome mill managers. \"About _thirty_ of these,\" says Mr. Henry\nAshworth, \"have been reckoned on the spur of the moment, and _ten_ of\nthem have become business partners or proprietors of mills.... Many\nmanufacturers,\" adds Mr. Ashworth, \"are to be found who have done a\ngreat deal to ameliorate the condition of those they have employed; and\nno one will doubt that they have been prompted, not by hopes of gain,\nbut by emotions of goodwill.\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: The greater part of the above information is contained in\nthe statement by Mr. Henry Ashworth, in the Reports on the Paris\nUniversal Exhibition, 1867, vol. vi., pp. 161-163.]\n\nManufacturers such as these do not, like Plugson of St. Dolly Undershot,\ngather up their fortunes and run away, leaving a groat each to their\nworkpeople to drink their healths. They remain with them from generation\nto generation. The best and the noblest amongst them--the Ashworths of\nTurton, the Strutts of Derby, the Marshalls of Leeds, the Akroyds of\nHalifax, the Brooks of Huddersfield, and many others,--have continued to\nsuperintend their works for several generations. The Strutts were the\npartners of Arkwright, who was almost the beginner of English\nmanufacture. In fact, it is only since Arkwright took out his patent for\nthe spinning machine, and Watt took out his patent for the steam engine,\nthat England has become a manufacturing country.\n\nWhere would England have been now, but for the energy, enterprise, and\npublic spirit of our manufacturers? Could agriculture have supported the\ncontinuous increase of population? Is it not more probable that this\ncountry would have become overrun by beggars,--or that property would\nhave been assailed and the constitution upset, as was the case in\nFrance,--but for the extensive and remunerative employment afforded to\nthe labouring classes in the manufacturing districts? The steam engine\nhas indeed proved the safety-valve of England. It enabled the kingdom to\nhold its ground firmly during the continental wars; and but for it, and\nthe industries which it has established, England would probably by this\ntime have sunk to the condition of a third or fourth-rate power.\n\nIt is true, the great manufacturers have become wealthy. But it would\ncertainly have been singular if, with their industry, energy, and powers\nof organization, they had become poor! Men of the stamp of the Strutts,\nAshworths, Marshalls, and others, do not work for wealth merely, though\nwealth comes to them. They have not become great because they were rich,\nbut they have become rich because they were great. Accumulations of\nwealth are the result of exceptional industry, organization, and thrift,\nrather than of exceptional gain. Adam Smith has said: \"It seldom happens\nthat great fortunes are made by any one regularly-established and\nwell-known branch of business, but in consequence of a long life of\nindustry, frugality, and attention.\"\n\nBut it is not always so. For instance, Mr. Lister, of Bradford, after\ninventing the combing machine,--or at least combining the inventions of\nothers into a complete combing machine of his own,--proceeded to invent\na machine for using up silk waste (then cast away as useless), spinning\nit into silk of the finest kind, and by means of the power-loom to weave\nit into velvet of the best quality. The attempt had never before been\nmade by any inventor; and it seemed to be of insuperable difficulty. Mr.\nLister had already made a fortune by the success of his combing machine,\nsuch as to enable him to retire from business, and live in comfort for\nthe rest of his life. But, urged by the irrepressible spirit of the\ninventor, he went onward with his silk machine. As he himself said, at a\nrecent meeting at Bradford,[1]--\"They might judge how hard he had worked\nto conquer the difficulties which beset him, when he told them that for\ntwenty years he had never been in bed at half-past five in the morning;\nin fact, he did not think there was a man in England who had worked\nharder than he had.\" The most remarkable thing was, that he threw away\nan immense fortune before there was any probability of his succeeding.\n\"He had almost brought himself to ruin, for he was \u00a3360,000 out of\npocket before he even made a shilling by his machine; indeed, he wrote\noff a quarter of a million as entirely lost, before he began to make up\nhis books again. Since then, his patent for the manufacture of silk had\nturned out one of the most successful of the day.\"\n\n[Footnote 1: The meeting was held to receive the transfer of Mr.\nLister's fine Park at Manningham, which he had presented to the\nCorporation of Bradford, \"to be a People's Park for ever.\"]\n\nIn the Park presented by Mr. Lister to the people of Bradford, a statue\nwas recently erected by public subscription. It was unveiled by the\nRight Hon. W.E. Forster, who, in closing his speech, observed: \"I doubt,\nafter all, whether we are come here to do honour to Mr. Lister, so much\nas to do honour to ourselves. We wish to do honour to those working\nfaculties which have made our country of England a practical, and\ntherefore a great and prosperous, and a powerful country. It is this\nuntiring, unresting industry which Mr. Lister possesses, this practical\nunderstanding, this determination to carry out any object which he is\nconvinced ought to be carried out, and his determination to fear no\nopposition and to care for no obstacle--it is these practical faculties\nthat have made England what she is. What is it especially that we are\nhonouring? It is the pluck which this man has shown; it is the feeling\nthat, having to do with the worsted trade, he said to himself, 'Here is\nsomething which ought to be done; I will not rest until I have found out\nhow it can be done; and having found out how it can be done, where is\nthe man who shall stop my doing it?' Now it was upon that principle that\nhe fought his long struggle; and so when we read the story of his\nstruggles, ever since 1842, in those two great inventions, we raise this\nstatue to the man who has successfully fought the battle, and hope that\nour sons and the sons of all, rich and poor together, will come in\nafter-days to admire it, not merely because it gives them the form and\nfeatures of a rich and successful man, but because it gives them the\nform and features of a man who was endowed with industry, with\nintellect, with energy, with courage, with perseverance,--who spared\nhimself no pains in first ascertaining the conditions of the problems he\nhad to solve,--and then whose heart never fainted, whose will never\nrelaxed, in determining to carry out those conditions.\"\n\nGreat men are wise savers and wise spenders. Montesquieu has said of\nAlexander: \"He found the first means of his prosperity and power in the\ngreatness of his genius; the second, in his frugality and private\neconomy; and the third, in his immense liberality to accomplish great\nobjects. He spent but little on himself; but for public purposes his\nhand was always open.\" It was also said of the first Napoleon, that he\nwas economical like Charlemagne, because he was great like Charlemagne.\nNapoleon was by no means a spendthrift, except in war; but he spent\nlargely in accomplishing great public undertakings. In cases such as\nthese, economy and generosity are well combined. And so it is in the\ncases of all men possessed of energy, industry, and great powers of\norganization.\n\nIt may seem out of keeping to compare great producers with great\ncommanders. Yet the manufacturer often requires as much courage, as much\ngenius, as much organizing power, as the warrior. The one considers how\nhe shall keep his operatives in working order; the other how he shall\nkeep his soldiers in fighting order. Both must be men of enterprize, of\nboldness, of keen observation, and close attention to details. And the\nmanufacturer, from his position, needs to be the most benevolent man of\nthe two. Viewed in this light, we regard Sir Titus Salt not only as a\nCaptain of Industry, but as a Field-Marshal of Industry. He has been\ncalled the Prince of Manufacturers.\n\nTitus Salt is a son of a Yorkshire wool-stapler. In the early part of\nhis life he was a farmer near Bradford, and his inclination for\nagricultural pursuits was such, that it was thought he would continue to\npursue this vocation. Being, however, a partner with his father in the\nwool business, and observing that manufactures were rapidly extending in\nthe neighbourhood, he withdrew from the partnership, and commenced\nbusiness at Bradford as a wool-spinner. He was one of the first to\nobserve the uses of Alpaca wool. Large quantities of that material were\nstored at Liverpool,--imported from the Brazils. But the wool found no\npurchasers, until at length Mr. Salt bought a quantity, and spun it into\nan entirely new fabric. He then proceeded to buy up all the Alpaca that\nwas to be found at Liverpool; made arrangements for purchasing all that\ncame into the market; went on spinning Alpaca; and eventually\nestablished the manufacture. This was the foundation of Mr. Salt's\nfortune.\n\nAt length, after about twenty years' labour as a manufacturer, Mr. Salt\nthought of retiring from business, and again betaking himself to his\nfavourite agricultural pursuits. He intended to retire on his fiftieth\nbirthday, but before that time had arrived (having five sons to provide\nfor) he reversed his decision, and resolved to continue in business a\nlittle longer, and to remain at the head of the firm. Having come to\nthis determination, he made up his mind to leave Bradford. The borough\nwas already overcrowded, and he did not like to be a party to increasing\nthe population. He looked about for a site suitable for a manufacturing\nestablishment, and at length fixed upon a large piece of ground in the\nbeautiful valley of the Aire. An extension of the Leeds and Bradford\nRailway was in front, and the Leeds and Liverpool Canal behind it, so\nthat there was every convenience for bringing up the raw materials, and\nof sending away the manufactured goods. On that spot Saltaire was\nerected--a noble monument of private enterprise, liberality, and wisdom.\n\nIt is not necessary to describe Saltaire. The buildings connected with\nthe new works cover six and a half acres. The principal room is five\nhundred and fifty feet long. The weaving shed covers two acres. The\ncombing shed occupies one acre. Everything is large, roomy, and\nsubstantial. The cost of constructing the factory, and the dwellings for\nthe workpeople, amounted to more than a hundred and forty thousand\npounds.\n\nOn the opening day, Mr. Salt dined three thousand five hundred persons\nin the combing shed. At the dinner, he said: \"I cannot look around me,\nand see this vast assemblage of friends and workpeople, without being\nmoved. I feel greatly honoured by the presence of the nobleman at my\nside. I am especially delighted at the presence of my workpeople.... I\nhope to draw around me a population that will enjoy the beauties of this\nneighbourhood,--a population of well-paid, contented, happy operatives.\nI have given instructions to my architects that nothing is to be spared\nto render the dwellings of the operatives a pattern to the country; and\nif my life is spared by Divine Providence, I hope to see satisfaction,\ncontentment, and happiness around me.\"\n\nThis promise has been amply fulfilled. Mr. Salt has been influenced\nthroughout by his sense of duty and responsibility. When he was applied\nto by the French Government for information as to his factory, he\nreplied: \"What has been attempted at Saltaire arose from my own private\nfeeling and judgment, without the most remote idea that it would be made\nthe subject of public interest and inquiry.\" With respect to the factory\nitself, little need be said. The object of its construction is to save\ntime in the process of production. Not a minute is lost in pushing the\nmaterial from one department to another. Every horse-power of steam is\nmade to do its utmost, every moment of time is economized, and the\nproductive capabilities of the factory are thus greatly increased.\n\nWe prefer to speak of the immense improvement which Mr. Salt, or rather\nSir Titus Salt, has effected in the physical and moral condition of his\nworkpeople. The plan of the works shows that Saltaire has been provided\nwith a church, a Wesleyan chapel, and a Literary and Philosophical\nInstitution. Large schools have been provided for boys, girls, and\ninfants, with abundance of play-ground. For young men as well as old,\nthere is a cricket-ground, bowling-green, and croquet-lawn, surrounded\nby pleasure-grounds. There is also a large dining-hall, baths and\nwashhouses, a dispensary, and almshouses for pensioners.\n\nAbout three thousand persons are employed in the works; and seven\nhundred and fifty-six houses have been erected for their accommodation.\nThe rents run from two and fourpence to seven and sixpence a week,\naccording to the accommodation. Some of the houses are used as\nboarding-houses. The rents include rates and water supply, and gas is\nsold at a low price. The cottages are built of stone, lined with\nbrickwork. They contain a parlour or long room, a kitchen or scullery, a\npantry and cellar, and three bedrooms. Each house has a separate yard,\nwith the usual offices. The workpeople are well able to pay the rents.\nSingle workmen earn from twenty-four to thirty-five shillings a week. A\nfamily, consisting of a father and six children, earn four pounds four\nshillings a week, or equal to a united income of over two hundred and\ntwenty pounds a year.\n\nThe comfortable houses provided for the workpeople have awakened in them\nthat home feeling which has led them to decorate their dwellings neatly\nand tastefully,--a sure sign of social happiness. Every visitor among\nthe poor knows how such things combine to prevent vice and disease, to\nelevate the moral tone of working people, and to develope their\nintellectual powers. A man in a dirty house, says Mr. Rhind, the medical\nattendant at Saltaire, is like a beggar in miserable clothing. He soon\nceases to have self-respect, and when that is gone there is but little\nhope.\n\nGreat attention is paid in Saltaire to education, even of the higher\nsort. There are day schools, night schools, mutual improvement classes,\nlectures, and discussions. Music--one of the most humanizing of\npleasures--is one of the most favourite studies. \"In almost every house\nin the town some form of musical instrument is found; and indeed, the\nchoral and glee societies, together with the bands, have become\nhousehold names.\" There is one full brass band for men, and another\ndrum-and-fife band for boys; and concerts, vocal and instrumental, are\nregularly given by the workpeople in the dining-hall. The bands have\ninstructors provided by the firm.\n\nBesides taking part in the musical performances, a large number of the\nskilled workmen devote their leisure hours to various scientific\namusements,--such as natural history, taxidermy, the making of\nphilosophical instruments, such as air-pumps, models of working\nmachinery, steam-engines, and articles of domestic comfort,--while some\nhave even manufactured organs and other musical instruments.\n\nThere is no drinking-house in Saltaire, so that the vices and diseases\nassociated with drunkenness are excluded from the locality. The diseases\npeculiar to poverty are also unknown in Saltaire. Everything is attended\nto--drainage, cleansing, and ventilation. There are baths of all\nkinds--plunge baths, warm baths, Turkish baths, and douche baths; and\nthe wash-house, to enable the women to wash their clothes away from\ntheir cottages, is a great accommodation,--inasmuch as indoor washing is\nmost pernicious, and a fruitful source of disease, especially to the\nyoung.\n\nThe workpeople are also thrifty. They invest their savings in the Penny\nBank and Saving's Bank; whilst others invest in various building\nsocieties, gas companies, and other lucrative undertakings. In fact,\nthey seem to be among the most favoured of human beings. With every\nconvenience and necessity, as well as every proper pleasure provided for\nthem,--with comfortable homes, and every inducement to stay at\nhome,--with fishing clubs, boating clubs, and cricket clubs,--with\nschoolrooms, literary institutions, lecture-hall, museum, and\nclass-rooms, established in their midst; and to crown all, with a\nbeautiful temple for the worship of God,--there is no wonder that\nSaltaire has obtained a name, and that Sir Titus Salt has established a\nreputation among his fellow-men.\n\nThere are large numbers of employers who treat their workpeople quite as\ngenerously, though not in such a princely manner, as Sir Titus Salt.\nThey pay the uniform rate of wages; help and encourage the employed to\neconomize their surplus earnings; establish Savings Banks and Penny\nBanks for their use; assist them in the formation of co-operative\nassociations for the purchase of pure food at a cheaper rate; build\nhealthy cottages for their accommodation; erect schools for the\neducation of their children; and assist them in every method that is\ncalculated to promote their moral and, social improvement.\n\nMr. Edward Akroyd, formerly M.P. for Halifax, is another manufacturer\nwho has exercised great influence throughout Yorkshire, by his\nencouragement of habits of thrift amongst working people. In his own\ndistrict, at Copley and Haley Hill, near Halifax, he has built numerous\nexcellent cottages for his workmen, and encouraged them to build their\nown houses by investing their spare earnings in building clubs. He has\nestablished co-operative clubs, to enable the men to purchase food and\nclothing at cost price. He has built excellent schools at his own\nexpense, and provided them with a paid staff of teachers. He has built\nand endowed the very fine church of \"All Souls\" (Sir Gilbert Scott,\narchitect), to which a large district, inclusive of the works, has been\nassigned. He has provided for his workpeople, both at Haley Hill and\nCopley, a Literary and Scientific Society, a Mutual Improvement Society,\na Working Men's Library (to which he has presented more than five\nthousand books), a Working Men's Club and Newsroom, a Choral Society,\nsupplied with an excellent library of music; a Recreation Club, provided\nwith a bowling green; and a cricket ground, with quoits, and gymnastic\napparatus, Mr. Akroyd has also allotted a large field to his workmen,\ndividing it into small gardens varying from a hundred to two hundred and\nforty square yards each. The small rent charged for each plot is\ndistributed in prizes given at an annual flower-show held in his\ngrounds, for the best growers of flowers, plants, and vegetables. Hence\nthe Haley Hill Horticultural and Floral Society, one of the most\nthriving institutions of the kind in the neighbourhood. In short, Mr.\nAkroyd has done everything that a wise and conscientious master could\nhave done, for the purpose of promoting the moral and spiritual welfare\nof the four thousand persons employed in his manufactories, who have\nbeen virtually committed to his charge.\n\nBut although Mr. Akroyd has done so much as a master for the men and\nwomen employed by him, he has perhaps done still more as a public\nbenefactor by establishing the Yorkshire Penny Bank for Savings. As\nearly as the year 1852, Mr. Akroyd instituted a Savings Bank to enable\nhis workpeople to deposit sums of from one penny upwards. The system was\nfound to work so well, and to have such a beneficial effect in making\npeople provident, that he conceived the idea of extending its operations\nthroughout the West Riding of Yorkshire. Having obtained the\nco-operation of several influential gentlemen, the scheme was started in\n1856, and an Act of Parliament was obtained for constituting the\nYorkshire Penny Savings Bank as it now exists.\n\nMr. Akroyd has recently furnished an Introduction to the narrative of\nthe Yorkshire Penny Bank, from which we extract the following passage:--\n\n\"The way by which thoughts, or chance suggestions, enter into the minds\nof men, is sometimes passing strange! They may be the offspring of\nwayward fancy; or they may be the whisperings from a higher source. To\nthe latter cause I am willing to attribute the idea which flashed across\nmy mind during the present year to give to the public something beyond\nthe bare outline of the scheme, in which, for years, many of them have\ntaken a warm personal interest.\n\n\"It occurred in this wise. When in town, I occasionally attended, during\nLent, the services at Whitehall Chapel, for the sake of hearing a Lenten\nsermon preached by one of Her Majesty's chaplains. One remarkable sermon\nof the series was delivered by the Rev. Charles Kingsley, on the 12th of\nMarch, on behalf of the Supplemental Ladies' Association of the London\nSociety of Parochial Mission Women. In the sketch which the preacher\ngave of this excellent institution, he referred to a book entitled 'East\nand West,' in which the benefits derived by the London poor from the\nassociation are clearly set forth; but he dwelt chiefly on the wide\nseparation which divides rich from poor, class from class, in London;\nand on the dangers which threaten Society from this cause, as was\nrecently exemplified in France. Such was the impression made upon me by\nthe sermon, that, before many days had elapsed, I had purchased 'East\nand West,' and given the book a careful perusal.\n\n\"From previous observation I had been struck with the sad contrast\nbetween the luxurious lives of those who reside at the West End of\nLondon, and the struggle for a hard, wretched existence which the\ncrowded poor at the East, or in close purlieus elsewhere, are obliged to\nmaintain until death closes the scene. How to bridge over the wide chasm\nintervening between the extremes of high and low in society, without\ninjury to self-respect on either side, was the puzzling question, the\nproblem to be solved. Yet, from the admirable introduction to this most\nuseful little work, by the Countess Spencer, it appeared that a lady of\nhigh rank, and her noble-minded associates, had in some measure solved\nthe problem, and bridged over the chasm.\n\n\"Hence I was led to reflect how much easier it is to discharge our duty\nto our neighbours, and to fulfil the leading object of the Parochial\nMission Women Association, to 'help the poor to help themselves,' in\nprovincial towns and in the country, where we are personally acquainted\nwith each other, than in London, where we do not know our next-door\nneighbour. _To help the poor to help themselves_ is the cardinal\nprinciple of the Yorkshire Penny Bank.\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1 e Yorkshire Penny Bank, a Narrative; with an Introduction by\nEdward Akroyd, M.P.]\n\nThe business of the bank commenced on the 1st of May, 1859. At the end\nof the year, when the bank had been in operation seven months,\ntwenty-four branches had been opened. It went on increasing in the\nnumber of branches and depositors, and in the amounts deposited. In\n1874, about two hundred and fifty branches had been established, and the\namount of investments in the names of trustees had reached nearly four\nhundred thousand pounds.\n\nThe Yorkshire Penny Bank does not interfere with the Post Office Savings\nBank. It has a special function, that of teaching the young of either\nsex _the habit of saving_. It is also convenient to the adult worker as\na convenient receptacle for his savings. Many have been induced to save,\nin consequence of the banks having been brought almost to their very\ndoors. One of the most remarkable facts connected with the history of\nPenny Banks is the sympathetic influence of juvenile thrift upon\npaternal recklessness and intemperance. The fact is well worthy the\nconsideration of Temperance advocates, who would probably effect much\ngreater practical good by enabling working people to save their money in\nthe Penny Banks, than by any speech-making agency. Take, for instance,\nthe following illustrations from Mr. Akroyd's narrative:--\n\nAn actuary says: \"All the juvenile depositors seem inclined to take care\nof their pence by depositing them in the bank; and the grown-up people\nhave become of the same turn of mind,--rather than carry their loose\nmoney to the public-house, or spend it foolishly. Some factory\noperatives have saved sufficient to buy stock and commence farming.\"\n\nAnother actuary says: \"A drunken father being shamed out of his\ndrunkenness by the deposits of his children, now deposits half-a-crown a\nweek in the bank. A notoriously bad man, a collier, became a regular\ndepositor himself, as well as depositing money in the name of his child;\nall his spare money having previously been spent in drink. From the date\nof his beginning to save, a perceptible improvement took place in his\nconduct and character. In another case, two boys prevailed upon their\nfather, also a collier, to allow them to deposit a shilling a week,\nuntil they had saved sufficient to buy themselves each a suit of new\nclothes. Before then, all their father's earnings, as well as their own,\nhad been spent in drink.\"\n\nAn actuary of another branch says he has seen fathers and mothers, who\nhave been drunkards, send their children with money to the bank, He\nsays: \"My heart was made to rejoice when I saw a boy, who never had a\nsuit of new clothes in his life, draw out his money, and in less than\ntwo hours return well clad, to take his place in the school to practise\nsinging for Good Friday. At the meeting of the Band of Hope on Good\nFriday, he asked the parents and children to signify by holding up their\nhands whether or not the bank had been beneficial to them; when many\nhands were instantly raised,--one poor mother exclaiming, 'I will put up\nboth my hands for my two bairns!'\"\n\n\"A miner, the father of a family, reclaimed from drunkenness, saved his\nmoney in the bank until, with the aid of a loan from a building society,\nhe built two houses at a cost of four hundred pounds. The bank has been\nto many people what the hive is to the bee--a kind of repository; and\nwhen the wintry days of sickness or adversity befall them, they have\nthen the bank to flee to for succour.\"\n\nA missionary says: \"I met a man and his wife about two years ago--both\ndrunk. I got them to sign the pledge, and since then to invest their\nmoney in our bank. The pawnbroker had got the greater part of their\ngoods; but I am happy to say that they have got all the articles out of\npawn, and can bring a little money almost every week to the bank; and\nwhen putting in the money, the man says that it is better than taking it\nto the public-house. Their home is now a very comfortable one.\"\n\nA drunkard one night came to the bank, and flinging down a shilling for\na start, said, \"There! that is the price of six pints of beer; but I\npromise the landlords that they shan't have as much of my money as they\nhave had.\" This man has become sober; and continues a regular depositor.\n\nIn another bank, a man who had been a reckless and desperate fellow was\ninduced by his wife to deposit a few coppers in the bank. He did so, and\nhis weekly deposits increased; while at the same time his visits to the\npublic-house decreased. In the course of a short time he had a\nrespectable balance to his credit; and this induced him to take a share\nin a building society, and then a second share. After continuing to pay\nupon these shares for some time, he purchased a piece of land, upon\nwhich he built two houses. One of these he occupies himself, and the\nother he lets. Besides this, he is now a respectable tradesman, having\ntwo or three journeymen and an apprentice working for him. He is sober\nand steady, and much respected by his friends and neighbours.\n\nMany other cases of the same kind might be mentioned. In one case a boy\nsaved sufficient money to buy a suit of clothes for his father, who had\nspent all his earnings in drink, and reduced himself and his family to\npoverty; in other cases, sons and daughters maintain their infirm\nparents without resorting to the parochial Board for assistance. Some\nsave for one thing; some for another. Some save to emigrate; some to buy\nclothes; some to buy a watch; but in all cases frugality is trained,\nuntil saving becomes habitual.\n\nOne of the Yorkshire actuaries of the Penny Bank tells the following\nanecdote as conveying a lesson of perseverance and encouragement to\nbranch managers. \"Mr. Smith was one of our first managers, but after\nattending two or three times he left us, saying it was 'childish work.'\nMy answer was, 'It is with children we have to do.' A short time after,\nI met him, and in the course of conversation I observed that I sometimes\ngot _down in the mouth_, and did not know whether we were doing any\ngood, and felt disposed to give up the bank; on which he warmly replied,\n'For God's sake, you must not let such an idea get into your head; you\nlittle know the good you are doing; we have not a man about our place\nbut either himself or some members of his family are depositors.'\" The\nactuary adds, \"If Colonel Akroyd ever despairs, I give him the above\nanswer.\"\n\nSavings banks have thus been the means of doing an immense amount of\ngood. They have brought peace, happiness, and comfort into many\nthousands of families. The example of Mr. Akroyd should be largely\nimitated, and there ought not to be a county in the kingdom without its\norganized system of Penny Banks.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\nTHE CROSSLEYS--MASTERS AND MEN (CONTINUED).\n\n\n\"The sense to enjoy riches, with the art\n T' enjoy them, and the virtue to impart.\"--_Pope_.\n\n\"My ventures are not in one bottom trusted,\n Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate\n Upon the fortune o' this present year.\"--_Shakespeare_.\n\n\"The roughest road often leads to the smoothest fortune.\"--_Franklin_.\n\n\"Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies. The\nheart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no\nneed of spoil.... She seeketh wool and flax, and worketh willingly with\nher hands.... She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold\nthe distaff. She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth\nforth her hands to the needy.... Strength and honour are her clothing;\nand she shall rejoice in time to come.... Her children arise up, and\ncall her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her.\"--_Proverbs of\nSolomon_.\n\n\nThere are several large employers who have endeavoured to combine the\nprinciple of co-operation with the business of manufacturing; and to\nfurnish to the men who have contributed to their past prosperity the\nopportunity of sharing in their future profits. The object of these\nmasters has been to obviate the antagonism between capital and labour,\nand to spread the spirit of contentment among the operatives. Workmen\nwho have saved their earnings, and stored them in savings banks, are in\nthis manner enabled to become partners in the concerns in which they\nhave formerly employed their labour.\n\nThe two principal manufacturing concerns of Halifax, those of James\nAkroyd and Son, and John Crossley and Sons, have thus become converted\ninto joint stock companies. They have been so converted with the primary\ndesign of receiving the co-operation of the managers, workmen, and\nothers associated with them; and with that view the directors have in\nall cases given them the priority in the allotment of the shares.\n\nWe have already referred to the philanthropic work accomplished by\nEdward Akroyd in the county of York. We have now to refer to the\nCrossley firm, whose carpets are known throughout the world. We refer to\nthem with the greater pleasure, as their history contains a story which\nmay possibly add to the interest of this book,--which, however useful,\nsome readers may consider to be rather dull to read.\n\nThe founder of this firm was John Crossley. He belonged to an old\nYorkshire family. His grandfather, who lived at King's Cross, near\nHalifax, was born of respectable parents, and had a good education, yet\nhe was by no means fond of business. In fact, he spent the greater part\nof his time in hunting and shooting. His wife was, however, of a very\ndifferent character. She was industrious, energetic, and an excellent\nhousehold manager. She not only maintained herself, but her husband and\nher family. She did this by means of a boarding school which she\nkept,--one of the best in the neighbourhood of Halifax.\n\nOne of her sons, the father of John Crossley, was brought up to\ncarpet-weaving. He learnt his business with Mr. Webster, of Clay-pits,\none of whose daughters he afterwards married. John Crossley himself also\nbecame a carpet-weaver with his uncle; and when his apprenticeship was\nfinished, he went to weave for Mr. Currer, a large carpet manufacturer\nat Luddenden Foot. While working at this factory, his master built a\nlarge fine house to live in. He thought he had money enough saved for\nthe purpose, but circumstances proved that he had not. Mr. Currer told\nhis foreman that he had kept an account of its cost until he had spent\n\u00a34,000, and then he became so disgusted that he burnt the memorandum\nbook, although the house was not nearly finished. He said \"he had done\nall that to please a woman,\"--meaning his wife. Although Mr. Currer was\nan excellent man of business, his wife was too fond of show, and the\nlarge fine house in which she was to live proved her husband's ruin. He\ndied shortly after it was finished, and then the whole of his\nestablishment was broken up.\n\nAfter leaving Mr. Currer, John Crossley removed to Halifax to take the\nmanagement of Mr. Job Lees' carpet manufactory in Lower George Yard,\nHalifax. He began to look out for a wife, and the history of his\ncourtship is curious as well as interesting. The Crossleys seem to have\nhad the good fortune to fall in with excellent wives; and the prosperity\nof the family is quite as much due to the Crossley women as to the\nCrossley men.\n\nMartha Crossley, the future wife of John Crossley, was born at Folly\nHall, near the Ambler Thorn Bar. Her great-grandfather, Thomas Turner,\nwas a farmer. He lived at the Upper Scout Hall, Shibden, and the\nfarm-house which he occupied, at the head of the Shibden Valley, is\nstill in existence. The eldest son was brought up to his father's\nbusiness. The youngest son, Abraham, was brought up to farming, weaving,\nand combing. He married, and had three children--Abraham, Thomas, and\nMartha. Abraham, the eldest, was father of Mrs. John Crossley, _n\u00e9e_\nTurner.\n\nAbraham was also brought up to farming and manufacturing; but it must be\nremembered that manufacturing was in those days conducted on a very much\nsmaller scale than it is now. He afterwards went into partnership with\nhis brother Thomas, to make worsted goods, but after his marriage the\npartnership was dissolved. He then became the proprietor of the Scout\nFarm, and there brought up his family.\n\nAlthough Abraham Turner was a landed proprietor, he did not think it\nbeneath him to allow his daughter Martha to go out to service. When\nabout fifteen years old she went as a servant to Miss Oldfield at\nWarley. In that service, in her own person, she did the work of\nkitchenmaid, housemaid, and cook, and in addition to that, she milked\nfour or five cows night and morning. She remained about ten years with\nMiss Oldfield. Her wages were at first fifteen-pence a week; after two\nyears, they were increased to eighteen-pence; and after nine years'\nservice, they were increased to six guineas a year. Yet during that time\nMartha Turner saved thirty pounds by sheer thrift.\n\nJohn Crossley, the founder of the Crossley firm, and the husband of\nMartha Turner, was originally a carpet-weaver. One night, when working\nat the loom, he was taking his \"drinking,\" and on laying down his black\nbottle it fell and broke. In trying to catch the bottle, he cut his arm\nso severely that it was thought he would have bled to death. He could\nnot work at the loom any longer, and he was going about with his arm in\na sling, when his employer, Mr. Currer, said to him, \"John, do you think\nyou could tie up a loom, as you cannot now weave?\" John replied that he\nthought he could. He tried, and proved so expert that his master would\nnot allow him to go back to the loom. John Crossley used to regard the\naccident to his arm as the turning-point in his life.\n\nIn the meantime he was going on with the business of courtship, though\nit was very much against the wish of the proud farmer--the father of\nMartha Turner. He declared that he would never allow his daughter to\nmarry a weaver, or even a foreman of weavers. Perhaps the story of their\ncourtship is best told in Martha's own words.\n\n\"When I went to the gate one evening, there was a young man standing\nthere, who asked me if I wanted a sweetheart. I answered, 'Not I, marry!\nI want no sweethearts.' I then went into the house, and left him. I saw\nthe same young man frequently about, but did not speak to him for years\nafter. His name was John Crossley. When my mistress ascertained his\nobject, she did all she could to set me against him. She told me that\nwhen she was a girl, she had gone to a boarding-school kept by a Mrs.\nCrossley,--that her husband's name was Tom Crossley, the grandfather of\nthis very man that was courting me,--and that a wilder, idler scapegrace\nshe never knew. She always said, when she saw him coming, 'There's young\nCrossley come again.'\n\n\"One day I received a love-letter from him, which I could now repeat\nword for word. I had several other suitors, but none were so persevering\nas John Crossley. He pressed me very much to have him. At last he sent\nme a letter to say that a house was vacant in Lower George Yard, close\nto the works he was managing, and that it was a great chance to meet\nwith one so convenient. I told him that I was going home to spend the\n5th of November, and would pass that way and look at the house, which I\ndid. When I got home I asked my parents for their consent. They did not\nobject much to it at the time; but I had not been at Miss Oldfield's\nmore than a day or two, before they sent over my sister Grace to say\nthat they would not give their consent to the match, and that if I\ninsisted on being married to John Crossley, they would never look me in\nthe face again.\n\n\"So soon as my sister was gone, I retired in a most distressed state of\nfeeling to my bedroom, and opened my book that was the preparation for\nthe sacrament, and the first place at which I opened I read these words:\n'When thy father and thy mother forsake thee, then the Lord will take\nthee up.' This comforted me very much. I felt that the Lord was with me\nin this matter, and I could no longer doubt which was the path of\nduty.... I decided to accept John Crossley's offer, and we were married\non the 28th day of January, 1800.\"\n\nMr. Crossley never did a better day's work than in marrying his\nexcellent and noble wife. From that day forward she was his helper, his\nco-worker, his consoler. She assisted her husband in all his struggles,\nand in a certain sense she was the backbone of the Crossley family.\n\nAfter the death of Mr. Job Lees, whose carpet manufactory he had\nmanaged, Mr. Crossley entered into partnership with two other persons,\nto take the plant and carry on the business. Some difference having\noccurred with the partners, he left the firm, and took a lease of Dean\nClough Mill, where he entered into another partnership with his brother\nThomas, and James Travers. There they carried on the business of worsted\nspinning. At the same time, John Crossley continued to spin and dye the\nyarns and to manage the looms of the firm which he had left. In fact,\nthe dyeing and spinning for the old firm formed a considerable part of\nthe business of the new one. Then came a crisis. The old firm took away\ntheir work: they sent the wool to be spun and the yarn to be dyed\nelsewhere. This was a great blow; but eventually it was got over by\nextra diligence, energy, and thrift,--Mrs. Crossley herself taking a\nfull share in the labours and responsibility of her husband.\n\n\"In addition to the carpet making,\" she says in the Manuscript Memoir of\nher life, \"we carried on the manufacture of shalloons and plainbacks,\nthe whole of which I managed myself, so far as putting out the warps and\nweft, and taking in from the weavers. We had at one time as many as a\nhundred and sixty hand weavers on these goods. We sold the principal\npart of them in London. We had also about four looms making brace webs\nand body belts. The produce of these looms I sold principally to the\nIrish, who made them up into braces and hawked them about the country. I\nalso made and stitched, with assistance, all the carpets that we sold\nretail. I used to get up to work by four o'clock in the morning, and\nbeing very diligent, I have usually earned two shillings before\nbreakfast, by the time that my neighbours were coming downstairs.\"\n\nThe partnership of Crossley, Travers, and Crossley, lasted for twenty\nyears. When the term had expired, the partners shared their savings;\nthey amounted to \u00a34,200, or fourteen hundred pounds to each. This was\nnot a very large sum to make during twenty years' hard work; but Dean\nClough Mill was then but a small concern, and each partner did his own\nshare of handiwork in spinning, dyeing, and weaving. Mrs. Crossley says\nthat \"the fourteen hundred pounds came in very useful.\" In fact, it was\nonly a beginning. John Crossley eventually bought the Dean Clough Mills\nout and out. He had a family of eight children to provide for; and he\nput his sons for the most part into his business. They followed the\nexample of their parents, and became thrifty, useful, and honourable\nmen.\n\nJohn Crossley, the founder of the firm, has observed, that in the course\nof his life he was a keen observer of men and things. He says he noticed\nmany of the failures of his neighbours in bringing up their children.\nSome fathers were so strict with their children, keeping them so\nconstantly at home, and letting them see so little of the world in which\nthey lived, that when the fathers died and the children were removed\nfrom all restraint, they came forth into the world like calves, and\nfound everything entirely different from what they expected. Such\nunguided young persons, Mr. Crossley found, soon became wild, lost, and\nruined. Then he observed the opposite extreme,--where the fathers\nindulged their children so much, that they became quite unfitted to\nendure the hardships of the world,--and, like a vessel that is sent to\nsea without a helm, they soon became stranded on the shores of life.\n\nHence Mr. Crossley endeavoured to steer clear of both extremes, and to\ngive to his sons as much knowledge and experience of life as possible.\nWhen at home, he always had one of his sons near him; or when he went\nfrom home, he always took one of them with him. Thus they gained a great\ndeal of practical knowledge of life, and knew something of the good and\nevil in the world; and as they grew older, they were all the better able\nto turn their own lives to the best account.\n\nIt is not necessary to follow the history of the Crossley family\nfurther. John Crossley died in 1837, after which the firm was conducted\nby John, Joseph, and Sir Francis Crossley, Bart. The latter represented\nthe West Riding of the county of York at the time of his death, a few\nyears ago. In 1857 he purchased a splendid piece of ground, which he\npresented to the Corporation of Halifax, to be used as a People's Park\nfor ever. In the speech which he made on the occasion of presenting it,\nhe said, amongst other things, that he had often discussed with his\nfriend the Mayor the philosophy of money. \"I recollect very well,\" he\nsaid, \"once entering into the question with him, when I was twenty years\nyounger than I am now, and saying that I saw a great deal of emptiness\nabout this money-getting; that many were striving for that which they\nthought would make them happy, but that it was like a bubble upon the\nwater--no sooner caught than burst.... Had I,\" he afterwards said, \"been\nof noble birth, or traced my origin (like some in this room) to those\nwho came in with William the Conqueror, however true it might be, it\nwould not have been good, it would even be boastful to have done so.[1]\nBut since I am of humble birth, perhaps it will be allowed me to say a\nlittle of those who ought to share the honour which is heaped upon me.\nMy mother was the daughter of a farmer who lived upon his own estate,\nand although it was not large, it had been in the family for many\ngenerations. Her father made the same mistake that Jacob made,--Jacob\nmade too much of Joseph, and her father made too much of Mary. My mother\nwas seventeen, and quick in disposition. She said that right was not\ndone to her at home, and she was determined to make her own way in the\nworld, whatever the consequences might be. She went out to service,\ncontrary to the wish of her father. I am honoured to-day with the\npresence of one who has descended from the family who engaged her as\nservant: I mean Mr. Oldfield, of Stock Lane, vice-chairman of the\nHalifax Board of Guardians. In that service, in her own person, she did\nthe work of kitchenmaid, of housemaid, and of cook; and in addition to\nthat she regularly milked six cows every night and morning. Besides\nwhich, she kept the house, which was as clean as a little palace. But\nthis was not enough to employ her willing hands. Her mistress took in\nwool or tops to spin, and she could do what scarcely any in Warley could\nhave done,--she spun that wool to thirty-six hanks in the pound, and\nthus earned many a guinea for her mistress, besides doing all her other\nwork.\"[2]\n\n[Footnote 1: Those who \"came in with William the Conqueror\" are not the\noldest but the youngest of British families. They are the most recent\noccupiers of British soil. The Angles and Saxons, whose lands the\nNormans divided amongst themselves, occupied Britain many hundred years\nbefore the arrival of the Conqueror. In the remote dales of Yorkshire\nand Lancashire, the ancient race still exists. And thus the Crossley\nfamily may have a much longer pedigree, could they but trace it, than\nany of those who \"came in with William the Conqueror.\" The latter are\nable to trace their origin because their numbers are so small, their\npossessions so large, and their introduction as English proprietors\ncomparatively so recent.]\n\n[Footnote 2: In these snobbish days, when rich people are so often\nashamed of their fathers and grandfathers, and vainly endeavour to make\nout their ancient 'nobility,' it was honest and manly on the part of Sir\nFrancis Crossley thus publicly to relate these facts; and to share with\nhis mother the honour of conferring his splendid present of the People's\nPark on the townsmen of Halifax.]\n\nSir Francis went on to relate the history of his father (as given above\nfrom his own manuscript), until the time when he took the Dean Clough\nMill. \"My mother,\" he says, \"went thither with her usual energy. As she\nwas going down the yard at four o'clock in the morning, she made this\nvow: 'If the Lord does bless us at this place, the poor shall taste of\nit.' It is to this vow, given with so much faithfulness, and kept with\nso much fidelity, that I attribute the great success which my father had\nin business. My mother was always looking how she could best keep this\nvow. In the days that are gone by, when it was a dreary thing to give\nemployment to a large number of people, the advice that she gave to her\nsons was, 'Do not sell your goods for less than they cost, for it would\nruin you without permanently benefiting any one; but if you can go on\ngiving employment during the winter, do so, for it is a bad thing for a\nworking man to go home and hear his children cry for bread, when he has\nnone to give them.'\"\n\nAnd now with respect to the manner in which Sir Francis Crossley\nfulfilled the vow of his mother. \"On the 10th of September, 1855,\" he\nsaid, \"I left Quebec early in the morning, for the White Mountains in\nthe United States. I remember passing through some of the most glorious\nscenery I had ever seen. On reaching the hotel at the White Mountains, I\nwent out alone for an evening walk. It was a beautiful spot. The sun was\njust declining behind Mount Washington, amidst all the glorious drapery\nof an American sunset. I felt as if I was walking with God. 'What,' said\nI, 'shall I render for all His benefits to me? Lord, what wilt Thou have\nme to do?' The answer came immediately. It was this: 'It is true thou\ncanst not bring the many thousands thou has left behind thee in thy\nnative country, to see this beautiful scenery, but thou canst take such\nscenery to them. It is possible so to arrange art and nature that they\nshall be within the reach of every working man in Halifax; that he shall\ngo and take his evening walk there, after his day's toil has been done.'\nWell, that seemed to me a glorious thought! I walked home, and my prayer\nthat night was, that in the morning I might feel that my thought was\njustified, and that I might be spared to put it in execution. I slept\nsoundly that night, and when I awoke my impression was confirmed. On the\n10th of September, when I left Quebec for the White Mountains, I had no\nmore idea of making a park than any one here has of building a city. On\nthe day I reached home, I felt as convinced that I should carry out my\nthought, as I was of my own existence. And from that day to this I have\nnever flinched from the undertaking, whatever difficulties might arise.\nIt is a happy day for me that I have been permitted to see the result,\nin the People's Park that has been opened to-day.\"\n\nThe Park was opened in August, 1857.[1] Three years later, a fine statue\nof Sir Francis Crossley (by Mr. Joseph Durham) was placed in the Park,\nso that all comers, while beholding the princely gift, might also see\nthe form and features of the giver. The cost of the statue was defrayed\nby public subscription, in which persons of all political parties\njoined. The preparation of the statue was delayed by the revolution in\nItaly, which placed Victor Emanuel on the Italian throne. While the\nquarrymen at Carrara were digging out the block of marble of which the\nfigure was to be sculptured, they were roused by shouts of \"Liberty,\"\ncoupled with the name of Garibaldi, and they left their work to join the\nbanner of that victorious leader. In front of the statue is the\nfollowing inscription: \"This statue of Frank Crossley, Esq., M.P. for\nthe West Riding of the county of York, donor of the People's Park, was\nerected August 14, 1860, by the inhabitants of Halifax, his native town,\nas a tribute of gratitude and respect to one whose public benefactions\nand private virtues deserve to be remembered.\"\n\n[Footnote 1: The Park is situated in the centre of the borough of\nHalifax, and covers twelve acres and a half of ground. It cost Sir\nFrancis Crossley \u00a335,000, who also gave to the Corporation \u00a36,300 to be\ninvested for its maintenance.]\n\nBut the vow of Martha Crossley was not yet entirely fulfilled: \"If the\nLord does bless us at this place, the poor shall taste of it.\" That was\nwhat she promised on her husband's entering into possession of Dean\nClough Mills; and her sons have nobly fulfilled her promise. In 1864,\nthe extensive business of John Crossley and Sons, with all its mills,\nmachinery, plant, warehouses and stock-in-trade--at Halifax,\nKidderminster, Manchester, and London,--was converted into a joint-stock\ncompany. The company was formed with the primary design of receiving the\nco-operation of all parties associated with the business, and with the\nobject of securing a spirit of harmony and the material well-being and\nprofit of the workpeople, clerks, managers, and others interested in the\nconcern. In order to enable the workpeople to join in the business, a\nlarge sum of money was lent to them for the purpose of taking up\nreturned shares in the company; and the workpeople took them up to a\nlarge extent. A preference was always given to the managers and\noperatives; and the amount of shares applied for by them was invariably\nallotted in full.\n\nThe results of this system have proved entirely satisfactory; the\ndirectors reporting that \"the active energies of all parties necessary\nto ensure success have been fully enlisted. They claim originality, in\ntheir method of securing the direct interest of the _employ\u00e9s_, and they\nrejoice in being able to report that the system has more than realized\ntheir highest expectations.\"[1] At the present time, the _employ\u00e9s_ hold\nshares in the company, of the value of about thirty thousand pounds; and\nthe deposit bank, founded for the use of the workpeople exclusively,\ncontains money-savings amounting to more than sixteen thousand pounds!\nAnd thus the vow of Martha Crossley, that the poor should taste of the\nprosperity of John Crossley and Sons, has been amply and nobly\nfulfilled!\n\n[Footnote 1: Reports of the Paris Universal Exhibition, 1867, vol. vi.,\npp. 119--141.]\n\nOne of the most promising of co-operative undertakings established by\nemployers for the benefit of their workpeople, was that of the Messrs.\nBriggs and Son, of Whitwood collieries, near Wakefield. The collieries\nwere converted into a limited company in 1865. The working colliers were\nmade partners in the prosperity of the concern to this extent,--that\nwhenever the divisible profits accruing from the business in any year,\nafter making allowance for depreciation, exceeded ten per cent, on the\ncapital embarked, all those employed by the company were to receive\none-half of such excess profit as a bonus, to be distributed amongst\nthem in proportion to their respective earnings during the year. The\nobject of the owners was to put an end to strikes, which had sometimes\nplaced them in peril of their lives, and also to enable them to live on\nbetter terms with their workpeople. The colliers were invited to become\nshareholders, and thus to take a personal interest in the prosperity of\nthe concern.\n\nThe project was received with great favour by the friends of\nco-operation. Mr. John Stuart Mill, in his Principles of Political\nEconomy, announced that \"the Messrs. Briggs had taken the _first step_;\nand that it was highly honourable on the part of those employers of\nlabour to have initiated a system so full of benefit both to the\noperatives employed and to the general interests of social improvement.\"\nMr. Hughes, M.P., after visiting the collieries, expressed his surprise\nat the great success achieved in the first year of working the\ncollieries as a partnership of industry. \"I believe,\" he said to the\nowners, \"that in taking this step you have done a great work for\nEngland, and one which will be gratefully recognized before long by the\ncountry.\" The promoters also claimed a reward from the Paris Universal\nExhibition, for having been \"the first large employers in England who\nhave allowed all their workpeople, whether co-shareholders with them or\nnot, to participate in all divisible profits beyond a fixed percentage\non the paid-up capital of the company.\"\n\nOnly a few years have passed, and already this promising partnership of\nindustry has come to an end. It has not been brought to an end by the\nmasters, but by the men. The masters were satisfied with the profits\nmade during the recent high prices of coal; but the men were not\nsatisfied with the wages. Had they been as free as the Welsh colliers,\nthey would have insisted on being paid as highly; but it would have\nbeen, as it was in Wales, ruinous to the masters. The system of\nindustrial partnership had at length to be abandoned, and the men now\nwork for wages instead of for part-profits. The truth is, the colliers\nwere not sufficiently educated to appreciate the advantages of the\nindustrial scheme. Though some of the Whitwood workmen have been\nstimulated by thrift, to build and furnish houses of their own, the\ngreater number of them, during the recent flush of prosperity,\nsquandered their wages on frivolity, extravagance, and intemperance.\n\nThe attempt was also made by several firms engaged in the iron trade, to\nembody the principle of co-operation in their respective concerns.\nAmongst these were the firms of Greening and Co., Manchester, and Fox,\nHead, and Co., Middlesborough.\n\nThe experiments were to a certain extent brought to an end by the greed\nor laziness of the colliers, who have for a time destroyed the\nprosperity of the iron trade. Messrs. Greening and Co. started with\ngreat enthusiasm; and the results were very successful as regards the\nworkpeople. Nothing could have been better than the spirit of goodwill,\nand even devotion, which was displayed by many of them. But, unhappily,\ncontracts were taken by the management, which resulted in a series of\nlosses; and the scheme ended in liquidation. Mr. Greening states that\n\"the Distribution Societies have as yet been much more successful than\nthe Production Societies;\" but he hopes \"to see the latter crown the\nedifice by making workers everywhere no longer servants, but co-partners\nwith capital.\"\n\nThe firm of Fox, Head, and Co. also admitted their workmen to a\npartnership of profits. They had for some time been much annoyed by\nstrikes. Their works had stood idle for about a fourth of the whole time\nthat had elapsed since their commencement. The system of co-operation\nwas adopted in 1866, at the close of a long strike. One of the\nconditions of the scheme was that Fox, Head, and Co. should not be\nmembers of any association of employers, and that the workmen should not\nbe members of any trades union. The original intention was to pay the\nworkmen a bonus according to profits. They eventually adopted the\npractice of the Messrs. Briggs and Co., which was, to divide the profits\nover ten per cent. into two parts: the one to belong to the capitalists\nas their profit, and the other to be divided amongst all those who had\nreceived wages or salaries during the year, in proportion to the amount\nreceived by them. An opportunity was also afforded to the workmen of\ndepositing their savings with the firm; but as there was only one\ninstance, during three years, of a workman applying to invest his\nsavings, this clause was withdrawn.\n\nIn consequence of the depressed state of the iron trade, there were no\nprofits to be divided during the first two years. The men were, however,\npaid the current rate of wages, and were saved the expenses of Union\nlevies. The co-operative store, which had been founded by the workmen,\nwas in a very prosperous condition. In the third year of the\nco-operative scheme, a bonus of two and a half per cent, was divided\nbetween the employers and the employed. The workmen also received an\nadvance of five per cent. in wages. In the fourth year the wages of the\nworkmen were further increased ten per cent., and this took the cream\noff the bowl. However, a bonus of four per cent. was paid on the wages\nand salaries received by the _employ\u00e9s_ during that year. At the meeting\nheld to communicate the result of the year's business, Mr. Head said:--\n\n\"There may be some who think the tendency of our policy has been too\nsentimental. I don't believe in doing business on sentimental\nprinciples. But I contend that mere money-making is not the sole end of\nexistence. We have been associated with many of you for several years,\nand we cannot help feeling a considerable interest in you. After all,\nlife is not so very long. Another twenty or thirty years will see us all\nunder ground, and there will be other employers and other workmen\ncarrying on business at Newport Rolling Mills. It would indeed be\nstrange if we did not take some interest in those with whom we are so\nmuch associated. And so, without in the least relaxing discipline, or\nsacrificing any true principle of business, we hold it to be our duty as\nemployers, as well as your duties as _employ\u00e9s_, to consider each\nother's interests, and to do all that each of us can in the way of true\nand hearty co-operation.\"\n\nThe coal famine began to tell upon the iron-workers. The furnaces were\noften laid off for want of coal. The principal causes of the bad supply\nof coal arose from shorter hours of labour, and higher wages for less\nwork. Yet a bonus of three and a quarter per cent, was allowed on the\nwages and salaries received by the _employ\u00e9s_ during the year 1871. The\nco-operative stores continued to be very productive, and many of the\nmembers saved considerable sums of money. In the next year, a bonus of\nthree and a half per cent, was divided. But difficulties were in store.\nThe coal famine continued. The employers of labour held meetings to\nresist the successive advances of wages, and to counteract the\noperations of the trades unions.\n\nMr. Head strongly urged the men to hold together: \"Cease to be deluded,\"\nhe said, \"by these trades unions. Save all you can, and with your\nsavings provide against the day of sickness--a day which is sure to come\nsooner or later. Provide for old age; read good books,--you have every\nchance now, with a free library in the town. Give credit to others for\nwishing to be straightforward and honest as well as yourselves; and in\nevery way I would ask you to act as reasonable, straightforward,\nsensible English workmen ought to do. Show that you can appreciate being\nwell used, that you can appreciate those who put themselves to trouble\nthat they may do you good; and beware lest, by want of sympathy, you\ndrive the best of the employers out of the business, and retain those\nalone who are despotic and tyrannical. Cease to follow those who are\nactuated by self-interest, or by blind impulse; who do not care a bit if\nthey get you into trouble, provided only they serve their own selfish\nends. Such men are but blind leaders of the blind, and if you follow\nthem you will eventually find yourselves deserted, and lying hopelessly\nand helplessly in the last ditch.\"\n\nIt was of no use. The men's wages went up twenty per cent.; and there\nwas an end of the bonuses. The coal famine continued. The masters,\ninstead of making profits, made immense losses. The price of iron went\ndown. The mills stood idle for two months. The result was, that when the\nmasters next met the workmen in public meeting, Mr. Waterhouse, the\nauditor, reported that \"while the gross earnings of the year have\nexceeded the expenditure on materials, wages, and trade charges, they\nhave been insufficient to cover the full amounts to be provided under\nthe co-operative scheme for interest on capital, depreciation, and the\nreserve for bad debts; and that consequently it was his duty to declare\nthat no amount was at present payable as bonus either to employers or\nemployed.\" No further report was issued in 1875, excepting an\nannouncement that there was no dividend, and that the firm did not\nintend to continue the co-operative scheme any longer. During the time\nthat it lasted, the _employ\u00e9s_ had received about eight thousand pounds\nin bonuses.\n\nSince then, Sir Joseph Whitworth has announced his intention of giving\nhis workmen a bonus upon his profits; but the principle of the division\nhas not yet been announced. On hearing of his intention, Mr. Carlyle\nwrote the following letter to Sir Joseph:--\n\n\"Would to heaven that all the captains of industry in England had a soul\nin them such as yours. The look of England is to me at this moment\nabundantly ominous, the question of capital and labour growing ever more\nanarchic, insoluble altogether by the notions hitherto applied to\nit--pretty sure to issue in petroleum one day, unless some other gospel\nthan that of the 'Dismal Science' come to illuminate it. Two things are\npretty sure to me. The first is that capital and labour never can or\nwill agree together till they both first of all decide on doing their\nwork faithfully throughout, and like men of conscience and honour, whose\nhighest aim is to behave like faithful citizens of this universe, and\nobey the eternal commandments of Almighty God, who made them. The second\nthing is, that a sadder object than even that of the coal strike, or any\nother conceivable strike, is the fact that--loosely speaking--we may say\nall England has decided that the profitablest way is to do its work ill,\nslurily, swiftly, and mendaciously. What a contrast between now and say\nonly a hundred years ago! At the latter date all England awoke to its\nwork--to an invocation to the Eternal Maker to bless them in their day's\nlabour, and help them to do it well. Now, all England--shopkeepers,\nworkmen, all manner of competing labourers--awaken as with an unspoken\nbut heartfelt prayer to Beelzebub,--'Oh, help us, thou great Lord of\nShoddy, Adulteration, and Malfeasance, to do our work with the maximum\nof sluriness, swiftness, profit, and mendacity, for the devil's sake.\nAmen.'\"\n\nFortunately, there is not a great deal of truth in this letter, nor in\nthe \"heartfelt prayer\" to Shoddy. The Right Hon. Mr. Forster ought to\nknow something of labour and capital, and at a recent meeting of the\nCobden Club he stated that \"they were often told that they had a war\nwithin their borders between labour and capital; but as an employer of\nlabour ever since he came to manhood, he would only say that he never\nknew a time in which employer and employed were on better terms.\"\n\nThe late Sir Francis Crossley observed that there was a good deal of\nunreasonable feeling abroad. It was held by some that it was wrong for\nworking men to sell their labour at the best price; but it must be\nremembered that their labour was the only thing they had to sell; and\nthe best thing to do was to leave those matters to take their natural\ncourse. It was a great mistake, on the part of employers, to suppose\nthat the lowest-priced labour was always the cheapest. If there was not\nso much desire to run down the price of labour, and the masters showed a\nmore conciliatory spirit, there would be fewer strikes and outrages.\n\n\"What a contrast between now and say only a hundred years ago!\"\nCertainly there is a very great contrast. England was not a\nmanufacturing country a hundred years ago. We imported nearly\neverything, except corn, wool, and flax. We imported the greatest part\nof our iron from Spain, Sweden, Germany, and Russia. We imported our\npottery from Holland, our hats from Flanders, our silk from France, our\ncloth and carpets from Belgium. Our cotton manufactures, our woollen and\nflax manufactures, our machine manufactures, could scarcely be said to\nexist. Coal could scarcely be had, for the coal-pits could not be kept\nclear of water.\n\nA hundred years ago, we could not build a steam-engine; we could\nscarcely build a bridge. Look at the churches built a hundred years ago,\nand behold the condition of our architecture. A hundred years ago, we\nhad fallen to almost the lowest condition as a nation. We had not a\nharbour; we had not a dock. The most extensive system of robbery\nprevailed on the River Thames. The roads, such as they were, swarmed\nwith highwaymen; and black-mail was levied by the Highlanders upon the\nLowland farmers, down to the middle of last century.\n\nA hundred years ago, our ships were rotten; they were manned by\nprisoners taken from the hulks, or by working men pressed in the streets\nin open day. When James Watt was learning his trade of an instrument\nmaker in London, a hundred years ago, he durst scarcely walk abroad lest\nhe should be seized and sent to India or the American plantations. Less\nthan a hundred years ago, the colliers and salters of Scotland were\nslaves. It is not forty years since women and children worked in\ncoalpits. Surely we are not to go down upon our knees and pray for a\nrestoration of the horrible things that existed a hundred years ago.\n\nA hundred years ago, Ireland was treated like a conquered country; and\nhangings and shootings of rebels were frequent. The fleet at the Nore\nmutinied; and the mutiny was put down by bloodshed and executions. Towns\nand cities swarmed with ruffians; and brutal sports and brutal language\nexisted to a frightful degree. Criminals were hanged, five or six\ntogether, at Tyburn. Gibbets existed at all the cross-roads throughout\nthe country. The people were grossly ignorant, and altogether neglected.\nScepticism and irreligion prevailed, until Wesley and Whitfield sprang\nup to protest against formalism and atheism. They were pelted with\nrotten eggs, sticks, and stones. A Methodist preacher was whipped out of\nGloucester.\n\nA hundred years ago, literature was at a very low ebb. The press was in\na miserable state. William Whitehead was Poet Laureate! Who knows of him\nnow? Gibbon had not written his \"Decline and Fall.\" _Junius_ was the\npopular writer. Political corruption was scarified in his letters. The\nupper classes were coarse, drunken, and ill-mannered. Bribery and\ncorruption on the grossest scale were the principal means for getting\ninto Parliament. Mr. Dowdeswell, M.P. for Worcestershire, said to the\nCommons, \"You have turned out a member for impiety and obscenity. What\nhalfdozen members of this House ever meet over a convivial bottle, that\ntheir discourse is entirely free from obscenity, impiety, or abuse of\nGovernment?\"\n\nThough drunkenness is bad enough now, it was infinitely worse a hundred\nyears ago. The publican's signboards announced, \"You may here get drunk\nfor a penny, dead-drunk for twopence, and have clean straw for nothing.\"\nDrunkenness was considered a manly vice. To drink deep was the fashion\nof the day. Six-bottle men were common. Even drunken clergymen were not\nunknown.\n\nWhat were the popular amusements of the people a hundred years ago? They\nconsisted principally of man-fighting, dog-fighting, cock-fighting, bull\nbaiting, badger-drawing, the pillory, public whipping, and public\nexecutions. Mr. Wyndham vindicated the ruffianism of the Ring in his\nplace in Parliament, and held it up as a school in which Englishmen\nlearnt pluck and \"the manly art of self-defence.\" Bull-baiting was\nperhaps more brutal than prize-fighting, though Wyndham defended it as\n\"calculated to stimulate the noble courage of Englishmen.\" The bull was\nsecured to a stake in the market-place or the bull-ring (the name still\nsurvives in many towns), and there the animal was baited by the rabble\ndogs of the neighbourhood. One can scarcely imagine the savageness of\nthe sport--the animal mutilations, the imprecations of ruffians worse\nthan brutes, the ferociousness and drunkenness, the blasphemy and\nunspeakable horrors of the exhibition. The public mind of this day\nabsolutely revolts at such brutality. Yet, less than a hundred years\nago--on the 24th of May, 1802,--a Bill for the abolition of bull-baiting\nwas lost in the House of Commons by sixty-four to fifty-one,--Mr.\nWyndham contending that horse-racing and hunting were more cruel than\nbull-baiting or prize-fighting!\n\nThe pillory was one of our time-honoured institutions fifty years ago,\nand men and women used to be placed there for offences, such as a wise\nlegislature would have endeavoured to conceal from public consideration.\nThe horrid scenes which then took place, when men, women, and children\ncollected in crowds to pelt the offenders with missiles, were so\ndisgusting, that they cannot be described. Not more seemly were the\npublic whippings then administered to women in common with the coarsest\nmale offenders. The public abominations and obscenities of the \"good old\ntimes\" would almost have disgraced the days of Nero.\n\nBut bull-baiting, cock-fighting, and other ferocious amusements, have\nnow departed. Even the village stocks have rotted out. Drunkenness has\nbecome disreputable. The \"good old times\" have departed, we hope never\nto return. The labourer has now other resources beside the public-house.\nThere are exhibitions and people's parks, steamboats and railways,\nreading-rooms and coffee-rooms, museums, gardens, and cheap concerts. In\nplace of the disgusting old amusements, there has come a healthier,\nsounder life, greater enlightenment, more general sobriety, and a\nhumaner spirit. We have in a hundred years outgrown many of our savage\ntendencies. We are not less brave as a people, though less brutal. We\nare quite as manly, though much less gross. Manners are more refined,\nyet as a people we have not lost our pluck, energy, and endurance. We\nrespect ourselves more, and as a nation we have become more respected.\nWe now think with shame of the manners of a hundred years ago.\n\nThe achievements of which England has most reason to be proud, have been\naccomplished during the last hundred years. English slaves have been\nemancipated, both at home and abroad. Impressment has been done away\nwith. Parliamentary representation has been conferred upon all classes\nof the people. The Corn Laws have been abolished. Free trade has been\nestablished. Our ports are now open to the whole world.\n\nAnd then, see what our inventors have accomplished! James Watt invented\nthe steam-engine, which in a few years created a large number of new\nindustries, and gave employment to immense numbers of people. Henry Cort\ninvented the puddling-process, and enabled England to rely upon its own\nstores of iron, instead of depending upon foreign and perhaps hostile\ncountries. All the docks and harbours round the English coast have been\nformed during the present century. The steamboat, the railway, and the\ntelegraph have only been invented and applied during the last fifty\nyears.\n\nWith respect to the charge made against the English workman as to the\n\"sluriness, swiftness, and mendacity\" of his work, it is simply\nimpossible that this should be so. Our ports are free and open to the\nworld; and if Frenchmen, Germans, Belgians, or Americans could execute\nbetter work than Englishmen, we should not only cease to export, but\nalso lose our home trade. The foreigner is now free to undersell us, if\nhe can, in our own markets.\n\nIt was in the perfect confidence that Englishmen were the best and most\nhonest workers in the world, that free trade was established. Should we\never become a shoddy manufacturing people, free trade will probably be\nabolished; and we shall then impose prohibitory duties upon foreign\nmanufactures. But is it not the fact that every year sees an increase in\nthe exports of English goods,--that English workmanship is not\nconsidered the worst, but the best, in the general markets of the\nworld,--and that numerous foreign makers place an English mark upon\ntheir productions in order to ensure their sale?\n\nIt is by means of English workmen and English tools and machines that\ncontinental manufactories themselves have been established; and yet,\nnotwithstanding their cheaper labour, we should command the foreign\nmarket, but for the prohibitory duties which foreigners impose upon\nEnglish manufactures. Mr. Brassey, in his book on _Work and Wages_,\nsays, \"It may be affirmed that as practical mechanics the English are\nunsurpassed. The presence of the English engineer, the solitary\nrepresentative, among a crew of foreigners, of the mechanical genius of\nhis country, is a familiar recollection to all who have travelled much\nin the steamers of the Mediterranean. Consul Lever says that in the vast\nestablishment of the Austrian Lloyds at Trieste, a number of English\nmechanical engineers are employed, not only in the workshops, but as\nnavigating engineers in the company's fleet. Although there is no\ndifficulty in substituting for these men Germans or Swiss, at lower\nrates of payment, the uniform accuracy of the English, their\nintelligence, their consummate mastery of all the details of their art,\nand their resources in every case of difficulty, have entirely\nestablished their superiority.\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: _Work and Wages_, p. 114.]\n\nThe English are also the best miners, the best tool-makers, the best\ninstrument-makers, the best \"navvies,\" the best ship-builders, the best\nspinners and weavers. Mr. Brassey says that during the construction of\nthe Paris and Rouen Railway, the Frenchman, Irishman, and Englishman\nwere employed side by side. In the same quarry at Bounier\u00e9s, the\nFrenchman received three francs, the Irishman four, and the Englishman\nsix; and the last was found to be the most advantageous workman of the\nthree. The superiority of the English workman over persons of other\nnations was equally remarkable whenever there was an opportunity of\nemploying him side by side with them.\n\nThere is no doubt about the \"swiftness\" of English Workmanship. But this\nis one of the merits of English mechanism. M. Jules Simon observes that\nheretofore the manual labourer has been an intelligent force, but by\nmeans of machinery he is converted into an intelligent director of\nforce. It is by the speed of the English machinery, and the intelligent\nquickness of the workmen, that his master makes a profit, and himself\nsuch high wages as compared with continental workmen. In France, one\nperson is employed to mind fourteen spindles; in Russia, one to\ntwenty-eight; in Prussia, one to thirty-seven; and in Great Britain, one\nto seventy-four spindles. It is by means of the swiftness of our\nmachinery that we are enabled to bring cotton from India, manufacture it\nin Manchester, return the manufactured article to the place from which\nit was taken, and sell it at a lower price than the native-made calico.\n\n\nMr. Chadwick mentions the following case. \"A lady, the wife of an\neminent cotton manufacturer, went to him one day rejoicing, with a fine\npiece of muslin, as the produce of India, which she had bought in\nLondon, and showing it to him, said, if he produced a fabric like that,\nhe would really be doing something meritorious in textile art. He\nexamined it, and found that it was the produce of his own looms, near\nManchester, made for the Indian market exclusively, bought there, and\nre-sold in England as rare Indian manufacture!\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: _Address on Economy and Free Trade_. By Edwin Chadwick,\nC.B., at the Association for the Promotion of Social Science at York,\n1861.]\n\nAn annual report is furnished to the Government, by our foreign consuls,\nwith reference to the character and condition of the working classes in\nmost parts of the civilized world. Mr. Walter, M.P., in a recent address\nto an assembly of workmen, referred to one of these reports. He said,\n\"There is one remark, in particular, that occurs with lamentable\nfrequency throughout the report,--that, with few exceptions, the foreign\nworkman does not appear 'to take pride in his work,' nor (to use a\nsignificant expression) to 'put his character into it.' A remarkable\ninstance of this is mentioned of a country which generally constitutes\nan honourable exception to this unhappy rule. Switzerland is a country\nfamous for its education and its watches; yet the following passage from\nthe report will show that neither knowledge nor skill will suffice\nwithout the exercise of that higher quality on which I have been\ndwelling. 'As a rule,' it says, 'Swiss workmen are competent in their\nseveral trades, and take an interest in their work; for, thanks to their\nsuperior education, they fully appreciate the pecuniary advantages to\ntheir masters, and indirectly to themselves, of adhering strictly to\nthis course. A striking instance of the impolicy of acting otherwise has\nlately happened at St. Imier, in the Bernese Jura, and produced a deep\nimpression. In this district, for some years past, a great falling off\nin the quality of the watches manufactured has taken place, owing to the\ninhabitants finding it much more profitable to increase the production\nat the cost of the workmanship than to abide by the old rules of the\ntrade. They prospered beyond all expectation for a considerable time,\nbut finally their watches got such a bad name that they became\nunsaleable, and the result is a general bankruptcy of nearly all the\nwatchmakers of this particular district.\"\n\nOne thing, however, remains to be said of foreign workmen generally.\nAlthough they do not work so hard as the English, they take much better\ncare of their earnings. They are exceedingly frugal and economical.\nFrenchmen are much soberer than Englishmen, and much better mannered.\nThey are, on the whole, greatly more provident than English workmen. Mr.\nBrassey states that when the Paris and Rouen Railway works were\ncommenced, the contractors endeavoured to introduce a system by which\nthe workmen were to be paid once a fortnight; but very soon after the\noperations had begun, the Frenchmen requested that the pay might take\nplace only once a month.\n\nMr. Reid, managing director of the line, told the House of Commons\nCommittee on Railway Labourers, that a French labourer is a much more\nindependent person than an Englishman, and much more respectable. He\nstated, in support of his opinion, this remarkable circumstance, that\nwhereas a French labourer desired to be paid only once a month, the\nEnglish labourer desired to be paid every Saturday night,--and by the\nfollowing Wednesday he wanted something on account of the week's work.\n\"Nothing could be a greater test,\" said Mr. Reid, \"of the respectability\nof a working man than being able to go without his pay for a month.\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: Thomas Brassey, M.P., _On Work and Wages_.]\n\nAlthough the French workman has nothing like the same facilities for\nsaving as the English, the _Journal des D\u00e9bats_ alleges that he saves\nten times as much as his rival. There are only about a thousand savings\nbanks and branches established in France, and yet two millions of\npersons belonging to the lower ranks last year had invested in them\nabout twenty-eight millions sterling. But the Frenchman of the city\nprefers investing in Government Rentes; and the Frenchman of the country\nprefers investing in land. All, however, are thrifty, saving, and\nfrugal; because they are educated in economy from their earliest years.\n\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nLIVING BEYOND THE MEANS.\n\n\n\"By no means run in debt: take thine own measure.\nWho cannot live on twenty pounds a year,\nCannot on forty: he's a man of pleasure,\nA kind of thing that's for itself too dear.\"--_George Herbert_.\n\n\"But what will Mrs. Grundy say?\"--_Old Play._\n\n\"YES and No are, for good or evil, the Giants of Life.\"--_Jerrold_.\n\n\"A hundred years of vexation will not pay a farthing of debt.\"--_From\nthe French_.\n\n\"Respectability is all very well for folks who can have it for ready\nmoney: but to be obliged to run into debt for it--it's enough to break\nthe heart of an angel.\"--_Jerrold._\n\n\nExtravagance is the pervading sin of modern society. It is not confined\nto the rich and moneyed classes, but extends also to the middle and\nworking classes.\n\nThere never was such a burning desire to be rich, or to _seem_ to be\nrich. People are no longer satisfied with the earnings of honest\nindustry; but they must aim at becoming suddenly rich,--by speculation,\ngambling, betting, swindling, or cheating.\n\nGeneral extravagance is to be seen everywhere. It is especially the\ncharacteristic of town life. You see it in the streets, in the parks, in\nthe churches. The extravagance of dress is only one of its signs. There\nis a general prodigality in social display. People live in a style\nbeyond their means; and the results are observed in commercial failures,\nin lists of bankrupts, and in criminal courts, where business men are so\noften convicted of dishonesty and fraud.\n\nAppearances must be kept up. Men must _seem_ to be rich. Hypocrites can\neasily impose upon those who are willing to be convinced. People must\nnow live in a certain style, inhabit handsome houses, give good dinners,\ndrink fine wines, and have a handsome equipage. Perhaps they are only\nable to accomplish this by overreaching or by dishonesty. Everybody\nwondered at the generosity and style of Redpath and Robson; but there\nare hundreds, if not thousands, of Redpaths and Robsons now.\n\nThere is another class of people, not fraudulent, but extravagant;\nthough perhaps on the brink of becoming fraudulent. They live up to\ntheir means, and often beyond them. They desire to be considered\n\"respectable people.\" They live according to the pernicious adage, \"One\nmust do as others do.\" They do not consider whether they can afford to\nlive up to or beyond their means; but they think it necessary to secure\nthe \"respect\" of others. In doing so, they usually sacrifice their own\nself-respect. They regard their dress, their establishments, their\nmanner of living, and their observance of fashion, as the sole tests of\nrespectability and rank. They make an appearance in the eyes of the\nworld; though it may be entirely hypocritical and false.\n\nBut they must not _seem_ poor! They must hide their poverty by every\neffort. They spend their money before it is earned,--run into debt at\nthe grocer's, the baker's, the milliner's, and the butcher's. They must\nentertain their fashionable \"friends,\" at the expense of the\nshopkeepers. And yet, when misfortunes overtake them, and when their\ndebts have become overwhelming, what becomes of the \"friends\"? They fly\naway, and shun the man who is up to his ears in debt!\n\nYet poverty is more than half disarmed by those who have the moral\ncourage to say. \"I can't afford it.\" Fair-weather friends are of no use\nwhatever, except as an indication of the depth of snobbery to which\nhuman beings can descend. What is \"a visiting connection\"? It is not at\nall calculated to elevate one in social, or even in business life.\nSuccess mainly depends upon character, and the general esteem in which a\nperson is held. And if the attempt is made to snatch the reward of\nsuccess before it is earned, the half-formed footing may at once give\nway, and the aspirant will fall, unlamented, into the open-mouthed\ndragon of debt.\n\n\"Mrs. Grundy,\" in the play, is but an impersonation of the\nconventionalism of the world. Custom, habit, fashion, use and wont, are\nall represented in her. She may be a very vulgar and commonplace person,\nbut her power is nevertheless prodigious. We copy and imitate her in all\nthings. We are pinned to her apron-string. We are obedient at her\nbidding. We are indolent and complaisant, and fear to provoke her\nill-word. \"What will Mrs. Grundy say?\" quells many a noble impulse,\nhinders many a self-denying act.\n\nThere seems to be a general, though unconscious conspiracy existing,\nagainst each other's individuality and manhood. We discourage\nself-reliance, and demand conformity. Each must see with others' eyes,\nand think through others' minds. We are idolaters of customs and\nobservances, looking behind, not forwards and upwards. Pinned down and\nheld back by ignorance and weakness, we are afraid of standing alone, or\nof thinking and acting for ourselves. Conventionalism rules all. We fear\nstepping out into the free air of independent thought and action. We\nrefuse to plant ourselves upon our instincts, and to vindicate our\nspiritual freedom. We are content to bear others' fruit, not our own.\n\nIn private affairs, the same spirit is alike deleterious. We live as\nsociety directs, each according to the standard of our class. We have a\nsuperstitious reverence for custom. We dress, and eat, and live, in\nconformity with the Grundy law. So long as we do this, we are\n\"respectable,\" according to class notions. Thus many rush open-eyed upon\nmisery, for no better excuse than a foolish fear of \"the world.\" They\nare afraid of \"what others will say of them;\" and, in nine cases out of\nten, those who might probably raise the voice of censure, are not the\nwise or the far-seeing, but much oftener the foolish, the vain, and the\nshort-sighted.\n\nSir William Temple has said, that \"a restlessness in men's minds to be\nsomething that they are not, and to have something that they have not,\nis the root of all immorality.\" The statement is strictly correct. It\nhas been attested by universal experience.\n\nKeeping up appearances is one of the greatest social evils of the age.\nThere is a general effort, more particularly amongst the middle and\nupper classes, at seeming to be something that they are not. They put on\nappearances, live a life of sham, and endeavour to look something\nsuperior to what they really are.\n\n\"Respectability\" is one of the chief aims. Respectability, regarded in\nits true sense, is a desirable thing. To be respected, on right grounds,\nis an object which every man and woman is justified in obtaining. But\nmodern respectability consists of external appearances. It means wearing\nfine clothes, dwelling in fine houses, and living in fine style. It\nlooks to the outside,--to sound, show, externals. It listens to the\nchink of gold in the pocket. Moral worth or goodness forms no part of\nmodern respectability. A man in these days may be perfectly\n\"respectable,\" and yet altogether despicable.\n\nThis false and demoralizing habit arises from the overweening estimate\nwhich is formed of two things, well enough in their place,--rank and\nwealth. Everybody struggles to rise into some superior class. The spirit\nof caste is found as keenly at work among the humblest as among the\nhighest ranks. At Birmingham, there was a club of workmen with tails to\ntheir coats, and another without tails: the one looked down upon the\nother. Cobbett, so felicitous in his nicknames, called his political\nopponent, Mr. Sadler, \"a linendraper.\" But the linendraper also has\nplenty of people beneath him. The linendraper looks down on the\nhuckster, the huckster on the mechanic, and the mechanic on the day\nlabourer. The flunkey who exhibits his calves behind a baron, holds his\nhead considerably higher than the flunkey who serves a brewer.\n\nIt matters not at what class you begin, or however low in the social\nscale, you will find that every man has somebody beneath him. Among the\nmiddling ranks, this sort of exclusiveness is very marked. Each circle\nwould think it a degradation to mix on familiar terms with the members\nof the circle beneath it. In small towns and villages, you will find\ndistinct coteries holding aloof from each other, perhaps despising each\nother, and very often pelting each other with hard words. The cathedral\ntowns, generally, have at least six of such distinct classes, ranking\none beneath the other.\n\nAnd while each has his or her own exclusive circle, which all of\nsupposed inferior rank are precluded from entering, they are at the same\ntime struggling to pass over the line of social demarcation which has\nbeen drawn by those above them. They are eager to overleap it, and thus\ngain admission into a circle still more exclusive than their own.\n\nThere is also a desperate scramble for front places, and many are the\nmean shifts employed to gain them. We must possess the homage of\nsociety! And for this purpose we must be rich, or at least _seem_ to be\nso. Hence the struggles after style--the efforts made to put on the\nappearances of wealth--the dash, the glitter, and the show of middle and\nupper class life;--and hence, too, the motley train of palled and\nvitiated tastes--of shrunken hearts and stunted intellects--of folly,\nfrivolity, and madness.\n\nOne of the most demoralizing practices of modern refinement is the\n\"large party\" system. People cram their houses with respectable mobs;\nthus conforming to a ridiculous custom. Rousseau, with all his\naberrations of mind, said, \"I had rather have my house too small for a\nday, than too large for a twelvemonth.\" Fashion exactly reverses the\nmaxim; and domestic mischief is often begun with a large dwelling and\nsuitable accommodations. The misfortune consists in this,--that we never\nlook below our level for an example, but always above it.\n\nIt is not so much, however, in the mere appearances kept up, as in the\nmeans taken to keep them up, that the fruitful cause of immorality is to\nbe found. A man having assumed a class status, runs all risks to keep it\nup. It is thought to be a descent in the world, to abridge oneself of a\nsuperfluity. The seeming-rich man, who drives his close carriage and\ndrinks champagne, will not tolerate a descent to a gig and plain beer;\nand the respectable man, who keeps his gig, would think it a degradation\nto have to travel afoot or in a 'bus, between his country house and his\ntown office. They will descend to immorality rather than descend in\napparent rank; they will yield to dishonesty rather than yield up the\nmock applause and hollow respect of that big fool, \"the world.\"\n\nEverybody can call to mind hundreds of cases of men--\"respectable\nmen\"--who, from one extravagance have gone on to another--wantonly\nsquandering wealth which was not theirs--in order to keep up a worldly\nreputation, and cut a figure before their admiring fellows;--all ending\nin a sudden smash, a frightful downfall, an utter bankruptcy--to the\nruin, perhaps, of thousands. They have finished up with paying a\nrespectable dividend of sixpence in the pound! Indeed it is not too much\nto say, that five-sixths of the fraud and swindling that disgrace\ncommercial transactions, have had their origin in the diseased morality\nof \"keeping up appearances.\"\n\nTo be \"respectable,\" in the false sense of the word,--what is not\nsacrificed? Peace, honesty, truth, virtue,--all to keep up appearances.\nWe must cheat, and scrub, and deceive, and defraud, that \"the world\" may\nnot see behind our mask! We must torment and enslave ourselves, because\nwe must extort \"the world's\" applause, or at least obtain \"the world's\"\ngood opinion!\n\nHow often is suicide traceable to this false sentiment! Vain men will\ngive up their lives, rather than their class notions of respectability.\nThey will cut the thread of existence, rather than cut fashionable life.\nVery few suicides are committed from real want. \"We never hear,\" says\nJoel Barlow, \"of a man committing suicide for want of a loaf of bread,\nbut it is often done for want of a coach.\"\n\nOf this mean and miserable spirit of class and caste, women are the\nespecial victims. They are generally brought up with false notions of\nlife, and are taught to estimate men and things rather by their external\nappearances than by their intrinsic worth. Their education is conducted\nmainly with the view of pleasing and attracting the admiration of\nothers, rather than of improving and developing their qualities of mind\nand heart. They are imbued with notions of exclusiveness, fashion, and\ngentility. A respectable position in society is held up to them as the\nmark to be aimed at. To be criminal or vicious is virtually represented\nto them as far less horrible than to be \"vulgar.\" Immured within the\nbastile of exclusivism, woman is held captive to all the paltry shifts\nand expediencies of convention, fashion, gentility, and so forth. The\ngenuine benevolence of her nature is perverted; her heart becomes\ncontracted; and the very highest sources of happiness--those which\nconsist in a kindly sympathy with humanity in all ranks of life--are as\na well shut up and a fountain sealed.\n\nIs it not a fact, that in what is called \"fashionable society,\" a fine\noutside appearance is regarded almost in the light of a virtue?--that to\nbe rich, or to have the appearance of riches, is esteemed as a merit of\na high order;--whereas, to be poor, or to seem so, ranks as something\nlike an unpardonable offence? Nay, such is the heartlessness of this\nclass spirit, that a young woman, belonging to the better class, who, by\nmisfortune or family reverses, has been thrown upon her own resources,\nand who endeavours, by her own honest hands, to earn her honest bread,\nimmediately loses caste, and is virtually expelled from \"respectable\"\nsociety. The resolution to be independent--the most invigorating\nresolution which can take possession of the human mind--is scouted in\nsuch circles as a degrading thing; and those who have been brought up\nwithin the influence of fashion, will submit to the most severe\nprivations, rather than submit to the loss of their class and caste\nrespectability!\n\nThus brought up, it is no wonder that woman has been the co-partner with\nman in upholding the general extravagance of the age. There never was\nsuch a rage for dress and finery amongst English women as there is now.\nIt rivals the corrupt and debauched age of Louis XV. of France. A\ndelirium of fashion exists. Women are ranked by what they wear, not by\nwhat they are. Extravagance of dress, and almost indecency of dress, has\ntaken the place of simple womanly beauty. Wordsworth once described the\n\"perfect woman nobly planned.\" Where will you find the perfect woman\nnow? Not in the parti-coloured, over-dressed creature--the thing of\nshreds and patches--with false hair, false colour, false eyebrows,\nfalse everything. \"Some of nature's journeymen have made them, and not\nmade them well, they imitate humanity so abominably.\"\n\nThe evil does not stop with the moneyed classes. It descends to those\nwho have nothing but their salary to live upon. It descends to the wives\nof clerks and shopmen. They, too, dress for respectability. They live\nbeyond their means. They must live in gimcrack suburban villas, and\n\"give parties.\" They must see what is going on at the theatres. Every\nfarthing is spent so soon as earned,--sometimes before. The husband does\nnot insure his life, and the wife runs into debt. If the man died\nto-morrow, he would leave his wife and children paupers. The money he\nought to have saved during his life of toil, is spent on\n\"respectability;\" and if he leaves a few pounds behind him, they are\nusually spent in giving the thriftless husband a respectable funeral.\n\n\"Is that dress paid for?\" asked a husband. \"No.\" \"Then you are allowing\nyourself to be clothed at another man's expense!\" No woman is justified\nin running into debt for a dress, without her husband's knowledge and\nconsent. If she do so, she is clothing herself at the expense of the\ndraper. This is one of the things that worry a man who is trying to keep\nhis head above water; and it is often sufficient to turn his heart\nagainst his wife and her extravagances. It is in this way that incomes\nare muddled away, and that life is rendered the scene of bitterness and\ndiscontent. This is especially the case when both husband and wife are\nalike spendthrifts.\n\nBy running into debt yourself, or by your allowing your wife to run into\ndebt, you give another person power over your liberty. You cannot\nventure to look your creditor in the face. A double knock at the door\nfrightens you: the postman may be delivering a lawyer's letter demanding\nthe amount you owe. You are unable to pay it, and make a sneaking\nexcuse. You invent some pretence for not paying. At length you are\ndriven to downright lying. For \"lying rides on debt's back.\"\n\nWhat madness it is to run in debt for superfluities! We buy fine\narticles--finer than we can pay for. We are offered six months'--twelve\nmonths' credit! It is the shopkeeper's temptation; and we fall before\nit. We are too spiritless to live upon our own earnings; but must\nmeanwhile live upon others'. The Romans regarded their servants as their\nenemies. One might almost regard modern shopkeepers in the same light.\nBy giving credit, by pressing women to buy fine clothes, they place the\nstrongest temptation before them. They inveigle the wives of men who are\ndisposed to be honest into debt, and afterwards send in untruthful\nbills. They charge heavier prices, and their customers pay\nthem,--sometimes doubly pay them; for it is impossible to keep a proper\ncheck upon long-due accounts.\n\nProfessor Newman's advice is worthy of being followed. \"Heartily do I\nwish,\" he says, \"that shop debts were pronounced after a certain day\nirrecoverable at law. The effect would be that no one would be able to\nask credit at a shop except where he was well known, and for trifling\nsums. All prices would sink to the scale of cash prices. The\ndishonourable system of fashionable debtors, who always pay too late, if\nat all, and cast their deficiencies on other customers in the form of\nincreased charges, would be at once annihilated. Shopkeepers would be\nrid of a great deal of care, which ruins the happiness of thousands.\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: _Lectures on Political Economy_, p. 255.]\n\nA perfect knowledge of human nature is in the prayer, \"Lead us not into\ntemptation.\" No man and no woman ever resists temptation after it has\nbegun to be temptation. It is in the outworks of the habits that the\ndefence must lie. The woman who hesitates to incur a debt which she\nought not to incur, is lost. The clerk or apprentice who gloats over his\nmaster's gold, sooner or later appropriates it. He does so when he has\ngot over the habitual feeling which made any approach to it an\nimpossibility. Thus the habits which insinuate themselves into the\nthousand inconsiderable acts of life, constitute a very large part of\nman's moral conduct.\n\nThis running into debt is a great cause of dishonesty. It does not\nmatter what the debt is, whether it be for bets unsettled, for losses by\ncards, for milliners' or drapers' bills unpaid. Men who have been well\neducated, well trained, and put in the way of earning money honestly,\nare often run away with by extravagances, by keeping up appearances, by\nbetting, by speculation and gambling, and by the society of the\ndissolute of both sexes.\n\nThe writer of this book has had considerable experience of the manner in\nwhich young men have been led from the way of well-doing into that of\nvice and criminality. On one occasion his name was forged by a clerk, to\nenable him to obtain a sum of money to pay the debts incurred by him at\na public-house. The criminal was originally a young man of good\neducation, of reasonable ability, well-connected, and married to a\nrespectable young lady. But all his relatives and friends were\nforgotten--wife and child and all--in his love for drink and\ncard-playing. He was condemned, and sentenced to several years'\nimprisonment.\n\nIn another case the defaulter was the son of a dissenting minister. He\nstole some valuable documents, which he converted into money. He\nescaped, and was tracked. He had given out that he was going to\nAustralia, by Southampton. The Peninsular and Oriental steamer was\nsearched, but no person answering to his description was discovered.\nSome time passed, when one of the Bank of England notes which he had\ncarried away with him, was returned to the Bank from Dublin. A detective\nwas put upon his track; he was found in the lowest company, brought back\nto London, tried, and sentenced to twelve months' imprisonment.\n\nIn another case, the criminal occupied a high position in a railway\ncompany,--so high that he was promoted from it to be Manager of the\nRoyal Swedish Railway. He was one of the too numerous persons who are\nengaged in keeping up appearances, irrespective of honesty, morality, or\nvirtue. He got deeply into debt, as most of such people do; and then he\nbecame dishonest. He became the associate of professional thieves. He\nabstracted a key from the office of which he was in charge, and handed\nit to a well-known thief. This was the key of the strong box in which\ngold and silver were conveyed by railway from London to Paris. A cast of\nthe key was taken in wax, and it was copied in iron. It was by means of\nthis key that \"The Great Gold Robbery\" was effected. After some time the\nthieves were apprehended, and the person who had stolen the key--the\nkeeper-up of appearances, then Manager of the Royal Swedish Railway--was\napprehended, convicted, and sentenced by Baron Martin to Transportation\nfor Life.\n\nThe Rev. John Davis, the late Chaplain of Newgate, published the\nfollowing among other accounts of the causes of crime among the\nconvicted young men who came under his notice:--\n\n\"I knew a youth, the child of an officer in the navy, who had served his\ncountry with distinction, but whose premature death rendered his widow\nthankful To receive an official appointment for her delicate boy in a\nGovernment office. His income from the office was given faithfully to\nhis mother; and it was a pleasure and a pride to him to gladden her\nheart by the thought that he was helping her. She had other\nchildren--two little girls, just rising from the cradle to womanhood.\nHer scanty pension and his salary made every one happy. But over this\nyouth came a love of dress. He had not strength of mind to see how much\nmore truly beautiful a pure mind is, than a finely decorated exterior.\nHe took pleasure in helping his mother and sisters, but did not take\ngreater pleasure in thinking that to do this kindness to them he must be\ncontented for a time to dress a little worse than his fellow-clerks; his\nclothes might appear a little worn, but they were like the spot on the\ndress of a soldier arising from the discharge of duty; they were no\nmarks of undue carelessness; necessity had wrought them; and while they\nindicated necessity, they marked also the path of honour, and without\nsuch spots duty must have been neglected. But this youth did not think\nof such great thoughts as these. He felt ashamed at his threadbare but\nclean coat. The smart, new-shining dress of other clerks mortified\nhim.... He wanted to appear finer. In an evil hour he ordered a suit of\nclothes from a fashionable tailor. His situation and connections\nprocured him a short credit. But tradesmen must be paid, and he was\nagain and again importuned to defray his debt. To relieve himself of his\ncreditor he stole a letter containing a \u00a310 note. His tailor was paid,\nbut the injured party knew the number of the note. It was traced to the\ntailor, by him to the thief, with the means and opportunity of stealing\nit, and in a few days he was transported. His handsome dress was\nexchanged for the dress of a convict. Better by far would it have been\nfor him to have worn his poorer garb, with the marks of honest labour\nupon it. He formed only another example of the intense folly of love of\ndress, which, exists quite as much amongst foolish young men as amongst\nfoolish young women.\"\n\nWhen Sir Charles Napier left India, he issued an order to the Army, in\nwhich he reproved the officers for contracting debts without the\nprospect of paying them. The Commander-in-Chief found that he was\nsubject to constant complaints against officers for non-payment of\ndebts; and in some cases he found that the ruin of deserving and\nindustrious tradesmen had been consequent on that cause. This growing\nvice he severely reprimanded, as being derogatory to the character of\nthe gentleman, as a degrading thing, as entitling those who practised it\nto \"group with the infamous, with those who are cheats, and whose\nsociety is contamination.\" He strongly urged them to stick to their\nduties, to reprobate extravagance and expense of all sorts, and to\npractise rigid economy; for \"to drink unpaid-for champagne and\nunpaid-for beer, and to ride unpaid-for horses, is to be a cheat and not\na gentleman.\"\n\nThe extravagance of these young \"gentlemen\" in India is, in too many\nrespects, but a counterpart of the extravagance of our young \"gentlemen\"\nat home. The revelations of extravagances at Oxford and Cambridge point\nto the school in which they have learnt their manners. Many worthy\nparents have been ruined by the sons whom they had sent thither to be\nmade scholars of; but who have learnt only to be \"gentlemen\" in the\npopular acceptation of the word. To be a \"gentleman\" nowadays, is to be\na gambler, a horse-racer, a card-player, a dancer, a hunter, a\n_rou\u00e9_,--or all combined. The \"gentleman\" lives fast, spends fast,\ndrinks fast, dies fast. The old style of gentleman has degenerated into\na \"gent\" and a \"fast\" man. \"Gentleman\" has become disreputable; and when\nit is now employed, it oftener signifies an idle spendthrift, than an\naccomplished, virtuous, laborious man.\n\nYoung men are growing quite shameless about being in debt; and the\nimmorality extends throughout society. Tastes are becoming more\nextravagant and luxurious, without the corresponding increase of means\nto enable them to be gratified. But they are gratified, nevertheless;\nand debts are incurred, which afterwards weigh like a millstone round\nthe neck. Extravagant habits, once formed and fostered, are very\ndifficult to give up. The existing recklessness of running into debt\nwithout the prospect, often without even the intention, of paying the\ndebt, saps the public morals, and spreads misery throughout the middle\nand upper classes of society. The tone of morality has sunk, and it will\nbe long before it is fairly recovered again.\n\nIn the mean time, those who can, ought to set their faces against all\nexpenditure where there are not sufficient means to justify it. The\nsafest plan is, to run up no bills, and never to get into debt; and the\nnext is, if one does get into debt, to get out of it again as quickly as\npossible. A man in debt is not his own master: he is at the mercy of the\ntradesmen he employs. He is the butt of lawyers, the byword of\ncreditors, the scandal of neighbours; he is a slave in his own house;\nhis moral character becomes degraded and defiled; and even his own\nhousehold and family regard him with pity akin to contempt.\n\nMontaigne said, \"I always feel a pleasure in paying my debts, because I\ndischarge my shoulders of a wearisome load and of an image of slavery.\"\nJohnson might well call Economy the mother of Liberty. No man can be\nfree who is in debt. The inevitable effect of debt is not only to injure\npersonal independence, but, in the long run, to inflict moral\ndegradation. The debtor is exposed to constant humiliations. Men of\nhonourable principles must be disgusted by borrowing money from persons\nto whom they cannot pay it back;--disgusted with drinking wine, wearing\nclothes, and keeping up appearances, with other people's money. The Earl\nof Dorset, like many other young nobles, became involved in debt, and\nborrowed money upon his property. He was cured of his prodigality by the\nimpertinence of a city alderman, who haunted his antechamber for the\npurpose of dunning him for his debt. From that day the Earl determined\nto economize, to keep entirely out of everybody's debt,--and he kept his\nword.\n\nLet every man have the fortitude to look his affairs in the face,--to\nkeep an account of his items of income and debts, no matter how long or\nblack the list may be. He must know how he stands from day to day, to be\nable to look the world fairly in the face. Let him also inform his wife,\nif he has one, how he stands with the world. If his wife be a prudent\nwoman, she will help him to economize his expenditure, and enable him to\nlive honourably and honestly. No good wife will ever consent to wear\nclothes and give dinners that belong not to her, but to her shopkeeper.\n\nThe knowledge of arithmetic is absolutely necessary to those who would\nlive within their means. Women are especially ignorant of arithmetic;\nthey are scarcely taught the simplest elements, for female teachers\nthink the information useless. They prefer to teach languages, music,\ndeportment, the use of the globes. All these may be important, but the\nfirst four rules of arithmetic are better than all. How can they compare\ntheir expenditure with their receipts, without the knowledge of addition\nand subtraction? How can they know precisely what to spend in rent, or\nclothing, or food, or for service, unless they know the value of\nfigures? How can they check the accounts of their tradesmen or their\nservants? This want of knowledge of arithmetic is the cause, not only of\ngreat waste, but of great misery. Many a family of good position has\nfallen into destitution merely because of their ignorance of this branch\nof knowledge.\n\nYoung people often rush into marriage without reflection. A young man\nmeets a pretty face in a ball-room, likes it, dances with it, flirts\nwith it, and goes home to dream about it. At length he falls in love\nwith it, courts it, marries it, and then he takes the pretty face home,\nand begins to know something more about it. All has as yet been \"very\njolly.\" The face has hitherto been charming, graceful, artless, and\nbeautiful. It has now to enter upon another sphere of life. It has to be\nseen much closer; it has to be seen daily; and it has to begin\nhousekeeping.\n\nMost newly married people require some time to settle quietly down\ntogether. Even those whose married life has been the happiest, arrive at\npeace and repose through a period of little struggles and bewilderments.\nThe husband does not all at once find his place, nor the wife hers. One\nof the very happiest women we know has told us, that the first year of\nher married life was the most uncomfortable of all. She had so much to\nlearn--was so fearful of doing wrong--and had not yet found her proper\nposition. But, feeling their way, kind and loving natures will have no\ndifficulty in at last settling down comfortably and peacefully together.\n\nIt was not so with the supposed young man and his pretty \"face.\" Both\nentered upon their new life without thinking; or perhaps with\nexaggerated expectations of its unalloyed happiness. They could not make\nallowances for lovers subsiding into husband and wife; nor were they\nprepared for the little ruffles and frettings of individual temper; and\nboth felt disappointed. There was a relaxation of the little attentions\nwhich are so novel and charming to lovers. Then the pretty face, when\nneglected, found relief in tears.\n\nThere is nothing of which men tire sooner, especially when the tears are\nabout trifles. Tears do not in such cases cause sympathy, but breed\nrepulsion. They occasion sourness, both on the one side and the other.\nTears are dangerous weapons to play with. Were women to try kindness and\ncheerfulness instead, how infinitely happier would they be. Many are the\nlives that are made miserable by an indulgence in fretting and carking,\nuntil the character is indelibly stamped, and the rational enjoyment of\nlife becomes next to a moral impossibility.\n\nMental qualities are certainly admirable gifts in domestic life. But\nthough they may dazzle and delight, they will not excite love and\naffection to anything like the same extent as a warm and happy heart.\nThey do not wear half so well, and do not please half so much. And yet\nhow little pains are taken to cultivate the beautiful quality of good\ntemper and happy disposition! And how often is life, which otherwise\nmight have been blessed, embittered and soured by the encouragement of\npeevish and fretful habits, so totally destructive of everything like\nsocial and domestic comfort! How often have we seen both men and women\nset themselves round about as if with bristles, so that no one dared to\napproach them without the fear of being pricked. For want of a little\noccasional command over one's temper, an amount of misery is occasioned\nin society which is positively frightful. Thus is enjoyment turned into\nbitterness, and life becomes like a journey barefooted, amongst\nprickles, and thorns, and briars.\n\nIn the instance we have cited, the pretty face soon became forgotten.\nBut as the young man had merely bargained for the \"face\"--as it was that\nto which he had paid his attentions--that which he had vowed to love,\nhonour, and protect.--when it ceased to be pretty, he began to find out\nthat he had made a mistake. And if the home be not made attractive,--if\nthe newly married man finds that it is only an indifferent\nboarding-house,--he will gradually absent himself from it. He will stay\nout in the evenings, and console himself with cigars, cards, politics,\nthe theatre, the drinking club; and the poor pretty face will then\nbecome more and more disconsolate, hopeless, and miserable.\n\nPerhaps children grow up; but neither husband nor wife know much about\ntraining them, or keeping them healthy. They are regarded as toys when\nbabies, dolls when boys and girls, drudges when young men and women.\nThere is scarcely a quiet, happy, hearty hour spent during the life of\nsuch a luckless couple. Where there is no comfort at home, there is only\na succession of petty miseries to endure. Where there is no\ncheerfulness,--no disposition to accommodate, to oblige, to sympathize\nwith one another,--affection gradually subsides on both sides.\n\nIt is said, that \"When poverty comes in at the door, loves flies out at\nthe window.\" But it is not from poor men's houses only that love flies.\nIt flies quite as often from the homes of the rich, where there is a\nwant of loving and cheerful hearts. This little home might have been\nsnug enough; with no appearance of want about it; rooms well furnished;\ncleanliness pervading it; the table well supplied; the fire burning\nbright; and yet without cheerfulness. There wanted the happy faces,\nradiant with contentment and good humour. Physical comfort, after all,\nforms but a small part of the blessings of a happy home. As in all other\nconcerns of life, it is the moral state which determines the weal or woe\nof the human condition.\n\nMost young men think very little of what has to follow courtship and\nmarriage. They think little of the seriousness of the step. They forget\nthat when the pledge has once been given, there is no turning back, The\nknot cannot be untied. If a thoughtless mistake has been made, the\ninevitable results will nevertheless follow. The maxim is current, that\n\"marriage is a lottery.\" It may be so if we abjure the teachings of\nprudence--if we refuse to examine, inquire, and think--if we are content\nto choose a husband or a wife, with less reflection than we bestow upon\nthe hiring of a servant, whom we can discharge any day--if we merely\nregard attractions of face, of form, or of purse, and give way to\ntemporary impulse or to greedy avarice--then, in such cases, marriage\ndoes resemble a lottery, in which you _may_ draw a prize, though there\nare a hundred chances to one that you will only draw a blank.\n\nBut we deny that marriage has any necessary resemblance to a lottery.\nWhen girls are taught wisely how to love, and what qualities to esteem\nin a companion for life, instead of being left to gather their stock of\ninformation on the subject from the fictitious and generally false\npersonations given to them in novels; and when young men accustom\nthemselves to think of the virtues, graces, and solid acquirements\nrequisite in a wife, with whom they are to spend their days, and on\nwhose temper and good sense the whole happiness of their home is to\ndepend, then it will be found that there is very little of the \"lottery\n\" in marriage; and that, like any concern of business or of life, the\nman or woman who judges and acts wisely, with proper foresight and\ndiscrimination, will reap the almost certain consequences in a happy and\nprosperous future. True, mistakes may be made, and will be made, as in\nall things human; but nothing like the grievous mistake of those who\nstake their happiness in the venture of a lottery.\n\nAnother great point is, to be able to say No on proper occasions. When\nenticements allure, or temptations assail, say No at once, resolutely\nand determinedly. \"No; I can't\" afford it.\" Many have not the moral\ncourage to adopt this course. They consider only their selfish\ngratification. They are unable to practise self-denial. They yield, give\nway, and \"enjoy themselves.\" The end is often defalcation, fraud, and\nruin. What is the verdict of society in such cases? \"The man has been\nliving beyond his means.\" Of those who may have been entertained by him,\nnot one of them will thank him, not one of them will pity him, not one\nof them will help him.\n\nEvery one has heard of the man who couldn't say No. He was everybody's\nfriend but his own. His worst enemy was himself. He ran rapidly through\nhis means, and then called upon his friends for bonds, bails, and\n\"promises to pay.\" After spending his last guinea, he died in the odour\nof harmless stupidity and folly.\n\nHis course in life seemed to be directed by the maxim of doing for\neverybody what everybody asked him to do. Whether it was that his heart\nbeat responsive to every other heart, or that he did not like to give\noffence, could never be ascertained; but certain it is, that he was\nrarely asked to sign a requisition, to promise a vote, to lend money, or\nto endorse a bill, that he did not comply. He couldn't say \"No;\" and\nthere were many who knew him well, who said he had not the moral courage\nto do so.\n\nHis father left him a snug little fortune, and he was at once beset by\npersons wanting a share of it. Now was the time to say \"No,\" if he\ncould; but he couldn't. His habit of yielding had been formed; he did\nnot like to be bored; could not bear to refuse; could not stand\nimportunity; and almost invariably yielded to the demands made upon his\npurse. While his money lasted, he had no end of friends. He was a\nuniversal referee--everybody's bondsman. \"Just sign me this little bit\nof paper,\" was a request often made to him by particular friends, \"What\nis it?\" he would mildly ask; for, with all his simplicity, he prided\nhimself upon his caution! Yet he never refused. Three months after, a\nbill for a rather heavy amount would fall due, and who should be called\nupon to make it good but everybody's friend--the man who couldn't say\n\"No.\"\n\nAt last a maltster, for whom he was bondsman--a person with whom he had\nonly a nodding acquaintance--suddenly came to a stand in his business,\nruined by heavy speculations in funds and shares; when the man who\ncouldn't say \"No\" was called upon to make good the heavy duties due to\nthe Crown. It was a heavy stroke, and made him a poor man. But he never\ngrew wise. He was a post against which every needy fellow came and\nrubbed himself; a tap, from which every thirsty soul could drink; a\nflitch, at which every hungry dog had a pull; an ass, on which every\nneedy rogue must have his ride; a mill, that ground everybody's corn but\nhis own; in short, a \"good-hearted fellow,\" who couldn't for the life of\nhim say \"No.\"\n\nIt is of great importance to a man's peace and well-being that he should\nbe able to say \"No\" at the right time. Many are ruined because they\ncannot or will not say it. Vice often gains a footing within us, because\nwe will not summon up the courage to say \"No.\" We offer ourselves too\noften as willing sacrifices to the fashion of the world, because we have\nnot the honesty to pronounce the little word. The duellist dares not say\n\"No,\" for he would be \"cut.\" The beauty hesitates to say it, when a rich\nblockhead offers her his hand, because she has set her ambition on an\n\"establishment.\" The courtier will not say it, for he must smile and\npromise to all.\n\nWhen pleasure tempts with its seductions, have the courage to say \"No\"\nat once. The little monitor within will approve the decision; and virtue\nwill become stronger by the act. When dissipation invites, and offers\nits secret pleasures, boldly say \"No.\" If you do not, if you acquiesce\nand succumb, virtue will have gone from you, and your self-reliance will\nhave received a fatal shock. The first time may require an effort; but\nstrength will grow with use. It is the only way of meeting temptations\nto idleness, to self-indulgence, to folly, to bad custom, to meet it at\nonce with an indignant \"No.\" There is, indeed, great virtue in a \"No,\"\nwhen pronounced at the right time.\n\nA man may live beyond his means until he has nothing left. He may die in\ndebt, and yet \"society\" does not quit its hold of him until he is laid\nin his grave. He must be buried as \"society\" is buried. He must have a\nfashionable funeral. He must, to the last, bear witness to the power of\nMrs. Grundy. It is to please her, that the funeral cloaks, hatbands,\nscarves, mourning coaches, gilded hearses, and processions of mutes are\nhired. And yet, how worthless and extravagant is the mummery of the\nundertaker's grief; and the feigned woe of the mutes, saulies, and plume\nbearers, who are paid for their day's parade!\n\nIt is not so much among the wealthy upper classes that the mischiefs of\nthis useless and expensive mummery are felt, as amongst the middle and\nworking classes. An expensive funeral is held to be \"respectable.\"\nMiddle-class people, who are struggling for front places in society,\nmake an effort to rise into the region of mutes and nodding plumes; and,\nlike their \"betters,\" they are victimised by the undertakers. These fix\nthe fashion for the rest; \"we must do as Others do;\" and most people\nsubmit to pay the tax. They array themselves, friends, and servants, in\nmourning; and a respectable funeral is thus purchased.\n\nThe expenditure falls heavily upon a family, at a time when they are the\nleast able to bear it. The bread-winner has been taken away, and\neverything is left to the undertaker. How is a wretched widow in the\nmidst of her agony, or how are orphan children, deprived of the\nprotecting hand of a parent, to higgle with a tradesman about the\ncheapening of mourning suits, black gloves, weepers, and the other\nmiserable \"trappings of woe\"? It is at such a moment, when in thousands\nof cases every pound and every shilling is of consequence to the\nsurvivors, that the little ready money they can scrape together is\nlavished, without question, upon a vulgar and extravagant piece of\npageantry. Would not the means which have been thus foolishly expended\nin paying an empty honour to the dead, be much better applied in being\nused for the comfort and maintenance of the living?\n\nThe same evil propagates itself downwards in society. The working\nclasses suffer equally with the middle classes, in proportion to their\nmeans. The average cost of a tradesman's funeral in England is about\nfifty pounds; of a mechanic, or labourer, it ranges from five pounds to\nten pounds. In Scotland funeral expenses are considerably lower. The\ndesire to secure respectable interment for departed relatives, is a\nstrong and widely-diffused feeling among the labouring population; and\nit does them honour. They will subscribe for this purpose, when they\nwill for no other. The largest of the working-men's clubs are burial\nclubs. Ten pounds are usually allowed for the funeral of a husband, and\nfive pounds for the funeral of a wife. As much as fifteen, twenty,\nthirty, and even forty pounds, are occasionally expended on a mechanic's\nfuneral, in cases where the deceased has been a member of several clubs,\non which occasions the undertakers meet and \"settle\" between them their\nseveral shares in the performance of the funeral. It is not unusual to\ninsure a child's life in four or five of these burial clubs; and we have\nheard of a case where one man had insured payments in no fewer than\nnineteen different burial clubs in Manchester!\n\nWhen the working-man, in whose family a death has occurred, does not\nhappen to be a member of a burial club, he is still governed by their\nexample, and has to tax himself seriously to comply with the usages of\nsociety, and give to his wife or child a respectable funeral. Where it\nis the father of the family himself who has died, the case is still\nharder. Perhaps all the savings of his life are spent in providing\nmourning for his wife and children at his death. Such an expense, at\nsuch a time, is ruinous, and altogether unjustifiable.\n\nDoes putting on garments of a certain colour constitute true mourning?\nIs it not the heart and the affections that mourn, rather than the\noutside raiment? Bingham, in speaking of the primitive Christians, says\nthat \"they did not condemn the notion of going into a mourning habit for\nthe dead, nor yet much approve of it, but left it to all men's liberty\nas an indifferent thing, rather commending those that either omitted it\nwholly, or in short laid it aside again, as acting more according to the\nbravery and philosophy of a Christian.\"\n\nJohn Wesley directed, in his will, that six poor men should have twenty\nshillings each for carrying his body to the grave,--\"For,\" said he, \"I\nparticularly desire that there may be no hearse, no coach, no\nescutcheon, no pomp, except the tears of those that loved me, and are\nfollowing me to Abraham's bosom. I solemnly adjure my executors, in the\nname of God, punctually to observe this.\"\n\nIt will be very difficult to alter the mourning customs of our time. We\nmay anxiously desire to do so, but the usual question will occur--\"What\nwill people say?\" \"What will the world say?\" We involuntarily shrink\nback, and play the coward like our neighbours. Still, common sense,\nrepeatedly expressed, will have its influence; and, in course of time,\nit cannot fail to modify the fashions of society The last act of Queen\nAdelaide, by which she dispensed with the hired mummery of undertakers'\ngrief,--and the equally characteristic request of Sir Robert Peel on his\ndeathbed, that no ceremony, nor pomp, should attend his last\nobsequies,--cannot fail to have their due effect upon the fashionable\nworld; and through them, the middle classes, who are so disposed to\nimitate them in all things, will in course of time benefit by their\nexample. There is also, we believe, a growing disposition on the part of\nthe people at large to avoid the unmeaning displays we refer to; and it\nonly needs the repeated and decided expression of public opinion, to\nsecure a large measure of beneficial reform in this direction.\n\nSocieties have already been established in the United States, the\nmembers of which undertake to disuse mourning themselves, and to\ndiscountenance the use of it by others. It is only, perhaps, by\nassociation and the power of numbers that this reform is to be\naccomplished; for individuals here and there could scarcely be expected\nto make way against the deeply-rooted prejudices of the community at\nlarge.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\nGREAT DEBTORS.\n\n\n\"What would life be without arithmetic, but a scene of horrors? You are\ngoing to Boulogne, the city of debts, peopled by men who never\nunderstood arithmetic.\"--_Sydney Smith._\n\n\"Quand on doit et qu'on ne paye pas, c'est comme si on ne devait\npas.\"--_Araene Houssaye._\n\n\"Of what a hideous progeny is debt the father! What lies, what meanness,\nwhat invasions on self-respect, what cares, what double-dealing! How in\ndue season it will carve the frank, open face into wrinkles: how like a\nknife, it will stab the houeat heart.\"--_Douglas Jerrold_.\n\n\"The human species, according to the best theory I can form of it, is\ncomposed of two distinct races, _the men who borrow and the men who\nlend_. To these two original diversities may be reduced all those\nimpertinent classifications of Gothic and Celtic tribes, white men,\nblack men, red men, and such-like.\"--_Charles Lamb_.\n\n\nPeople do not know what troubles they are brewing for themselves when\nthey run into debt. It does not matter for what the debt is incurred. It\nhangs like a millstone round a man's neck until he is relieved of it. It\npresses like a nightmare upon him. It hinders the well-being of his\nfamily. It destroys the happiness of his household.\n\nEven those who are in the regular receipt of large incomes, feel\ncrippled, often for years, by the incubus of debt. Weighed down by this,\nwhat can a man do to save--to economise with a view to the future of his\nwife and children? A man in debt is disabled from insuring his life,\nfrom insuring his house and goods, from putting money in the bank, from\nbuying a house or a freehold. All his surplus gains must go towards the\npayment of his debt.\n\nEven men of enormous property, great lords with vast landed estates,\noften feel themselves oppressed and made miserable by loads of debt.\nThey or their forefathers having contracted extravagant habits--a taste\nfor gambling, horseracing, or expensive living,--borrow money on their\nestates, and the burden of debt remains. Not, perhaps, in the case of\nstrictly entailed estates--for the aristocracy have contrived so that\ntheir debts shall be wiped out at their death, and they can thus gratify\ntheir spendthrift tastes at the expense of the public--the estates going\ncomparatively unburdened to the entailed heir. But comparatively few are\nin the position of the privileged classes. In the case of the majority,\nthe debts are inherited with the estates, and often the debts are more\nthan the estates are worth. Thus it happens that a large part of the\nlands of England are at this moment the property of mortgagees and\nmoney-lenders.\n\nThe greatest men have been in debt. It has even been alleged that\ngreatness and debt have a certain relation to each other. Great men have\ngreat debts; they are trusted. So have great nations; they are\nrespectable, and have credit. Spiritless men have no debts, neither have\nspiritless nations; nobody will trust them. Men as well as nations in\ndebt secure a widely extended interest. Their names are written in many\nbooks; and many are the conjectures formed as to whether they will\npay--or not. The man who has no debts slips through the world\ncomparatively unnoticed; while he who is in everybody's books has all\neyes fixed upon him. His health is enquired after with interest; and if\nhe goes into foreign countries, his return is anxiously looked for.\n\nThe creditor is usually depicted as a severe man, with a hard visage;\nwhile the debtor is an open-handed generous man, ready to help and\nentertain everybody. He is the object of general sympathy. When\nGoldsmith was dunned for his milk-score and arrested for the rent of his\napartments, who would think of pitying the milk-woman or the landlady?\nIt is the man in debt who is the prominent feature of the piece, and all\nour sympathy is reserved for him. \"What were you,\" asked Pantagruel of\nPanurge, \"without your debts? God preserve me from ever being without\nthem! Do you think there is anything divine in lending or in crediting\nothers? No! To owe is the true heroic virtue!\"\n\nYet, whatever may be said in praise of Debt, it has unquestionably a\nvery seedy side. The man in debt is driven to resort to many sorry\nexpedients to live. He is the victim of duns and sheriff's officers. Few\ncan treat them with the indifference that Sheridan did, who put them\ninto livery to wait upon his guests. The debtor starts and grows pale at\nevery knock at his door. His friends grow cool, and his relatives shun\nhim. He is ashamed to go abroad, and has no comfort at home. He becomes\ncrabbed, morose, and querulous, losing all pleasure in life. He wants\nthe passport to enjoyment and respect--money; he has only his debts, and\nthese make him suspected, despised, and snubbed. He lives in the slough\nof despond. He feels degraded in others' eyes as well as in his own. He\nmust submit to impertinent demands, which he can only put off by sham\nexcuses. He has ceased to be his own master, and has lost the\nindependent bearing of a man. He seeks to excite pity, and pleads for\ntime. A sharp attorney pounces on him, and suddenly he feels himself in\nthe vulture's gripe. He tries a friend or a relative, but all that he\nobtains is a civil leer, and a cool repulse. He tries a money-lender;\nand, if he succeeds, he is only out of the frying-pan into the fire. It\nis easy to see what the end will be,--a life of mean shifts and\nexpedients, perhaps ending in the gaol or the workhouse.\n\nCan a man keep out of debt? Is there a possibility of avoiding the moral\ndegradation which accompanies it? Could not debt be dispensed with\naltogether, and man's independence preserved secure? There is only one\nway of doing this; by \"living within the means.\" Unhappily, this is too\nlittle the practice in modern times. We incur debt, trusting to the\nfuture for the opportunity of defraying it. We cannot resist the\ntemptation to spend money. One will have fine furniture and live in a\nhigh-rented house; another will have wines and a box at the opera; a\nthird must give dinners and music-parties:--all good things in their\nway, but not to be indulged in if they cannot be paid for. Is it not a\nshabby thing to pretend to give dinners, if the real parties who provide\nthem are the butcher, the poulterer, and the wine-merchant, whom you are\nin debt to, and cannot pay?\n\nA man has no business to live in a style which his income cannot\nsupport, or to mortgage his earnings of next week or of next year, in\norder to live luxuriously to-day. The whole system of Debt, by means of\nwhich we forestall and anticipate the future, is wrong. They are almost\nas much to blame who give credit, and encourage customers to take\ncredit, as those are who incur debts. A man knows what his actual\nposition is, if he pays his way as he goes. He can keep within his\nmeans, and so apportion his expenditure as to reserve a fund of savings\nagainst a time of need. He is always balanced up; and if he buys nothing\nbut what he pays for in cash, he cannot fail to be on the credit side of\nhis household accounts at the year's end.\n\nBut once let him commence the practice of running up bills--one at the\ntailor's, another at the dressmaker's and milliner's, another at the\nbutcher's, another at the grocer's, and so on,--and he never knows how\nhe stands. He is deceived into debt; the road is made smooth and\npleasant for him; things flow into the house, for which he does not seem\nto pay. But they are all set down against him; and at the year's end,\nwhen the bills come in, he is ready to lift up his hands in dismay. Then\nhe finds that the sweet of the honey will not repay for the smart of the\nsting.\n\nIt is the same as respects the poorer classes. Not many years since,\nParliament passed a law facilitating the establishment of Small Loan\nSocieties, for the purpose of helping small tradesmen and poor people\ngenerally to raise money on an emergency. The law was at once pounced\nupon by the numerous race of Graballs, as a means of putting money in\ntheir purse. They gave the working classes facilities for running into\ndebt, and for mortgaging their future industry. A few men, desirous of\nmaking money, would form themselves into a Loan Club, and offer sums of\nmoney ostensibly at five per cent, interest, repayable in weekly\ninstalments. The labouring people eagerly availed themselves of the\nfacility for getting into debt. One wanted money for a \"spree,\" another\nwanted money for a suit of clothes, a third for an eight-day clock, and\nso on; and instead of saving the money beforehand, they preferred\ngetting the money from the Club, keeping themselves in difficulties and\npoverty until the debt was paid off. Such a practice is worse than\nliving from hand to mouth: it is living upon one's own vitals.\n\nIt is easy to understand how the partners in the Loan Club made money.\nSuppose that they advanced ten pounds for three months at five per cent.\nIt is repayable in weekly instalments at ten shillings a week,--the\nrepayments commencing the very first week after the advance has been\nmade. But though ten shillings are repaid weekly until the debt is wiped\noff, interest at five per cent, is charged upon the whole amount until\nthe last instalment is paid off. So that, though the nominal interest is\nfive per cent., it goes on increasing until, during the last week, it\nreaches the enormous rate of one hundred per cent.! This is what is\ncalled \"eating the calf in the cow's belly.\"\n\nMen of genius are equally facile in running into debt. Genius has no\nnecessary connection with prudence or self-restraint, nor does it\nexercise any influence over the common rules of arithmetic, which are\nrigid and inflexible. Men of genius are often superior to what Bacon\ncalls \"the wisdom of business.\" Yet Bacon himself did not follow his own\nadvice, but was ruined by his improvidence. He was in straits and\ndifficulties when a youth, and in still greater straits and difficulties\nwhen a man. His life was splendid; but his excessive expenditure\ninvolved him in debts which created a perpetual craving for money. One\nday, in passing out to his antechambers, where his followers waited for\nhis appearance, he said, \"Be seated, my masters; your rise has been my\nfall.\" To supply his wants, Bacon took bribes, and was thereupon beset\nby his enemies, convicted, degraded, and ruined.\n\nEven men with a special genius for finance on a grand scale, may\ncompletely break down in the management of their own private affairs.\nPitt managed the national finances during a period of unexampled\ndifficulty, yet was himself always plunged in debt. Lord Carrington, the\nex-banker, once or twice, at Mr. Pitt's request, examined his household\naccounts, and found the quantity of butcher's meat charged in the bills\nwas one hundredweight a week. The charge for servants' wages, board\nwages, living, and household bills, exceeded \u00a32,300 a year. At Pitt's\ndeath, the nation voted \u00a340,000 to satisfy the demands of his creditors;\nyet his income had never been less than \u00a36,000 a year; and at one time,\nwith the Wardenship of the Cinque Ports, it was nearly \u00a34,000 a year\nmore. Macaulay truly says that \"the character of Pitt would have stood\nhigher if, with the disinterestedness of Pericles and De Witt, he had\nunited their dignified frugality.\"\n\nBut Pitt by no means stood alone. Lord Melville was as unthrifty in the\nmanagement of his own affairs, as he was of the money of the public. Fox\nwas an enormous ower, his financial maxim being that a man need never\nwant money if he was willing to pay enough for it. Fox called the outer\nroom at Almack's, where he borrowed on occasions from Jew lenders at\nexorbitant premiums, his \"Jerusalem Chamber.\" Passion for play was his\ngreat vice, and at a very early age it involved him in debt to an\nenormous amount. It is stated by Gibbon that on one occasion Fox sat\nplaying at hazard for twenty hours in succession, losing \u00a311,000. But\ndeep play was the vice of high life in those days, and cheating was not\nunknown. Selwyn, alluding to Fox's losses at play, called him Charles\nthe Martyr.\n\nSheridan was the hero of debt. He lived on it. Though he received large\nsums of money in one way or another, no one knew what became of it, for\nhe paid nobody. It seemed to melt away in his hands like snow in summer.\nHe spent his first wife's fortune of \u00a31,600 in a six weeks' jaunt to\nBath. Necessity drove him to literature, and perhaps to the stimulus of\npoverty we owe \"The Rivals,\" and the dramas which succeeded it. With his\nsecond wife he obtained a fortune of \u00a35,000, and with \u00a315,000 which he\nrealized by the sale of Drury Lane shares, he bought an estate in\nSurrey, from which he was driven by debt and duns. The remainder of his\nlife was a series of shifts, sometimes brilliant, but oftener degrading,\nto raise money and evade creditors. Taylor, of the Opera-house, used to\nsay that if he took off his hat to Sheridan in the street, it would cost\nhim fifty pounds; but if he stopped to speak to him, it would cost a\nhundred.\n\nOne of Sheridan's creditors came for his money on horseback.\" That is a\nnice mare,\" said Sheridan. \"Do you think so?\" \"Yes, indeed;--how does\nshe trot?\" The creditor, flattered, told him he should see, and\nimmediately put the mare at full trotting pace, on which Sheridan took\nthe opportunity of trotting round the nearest corner. His duns would\ncome in numbers each morning, to catch him before he went out. They were\nshown into the rooms on each side of the entrance hall. When Sheridan\nhad breakfasted, he would come down, and ask, \"Are those doors all shut,\nJohn?\" and on being assured that they were, he marched out deliberately\nbetween them.\n\nHe was in debt all round--to his milkman, his grocer, his baker, and his\nbutcher. Sometimes Mrs. Sheridan would be kept waiting for an hour or\nmore while the servants were beating up the neighbourhood for coffee,\nbutter, eggs, and rolls. While Sheridan was Paymaster of the Navy, a\nbutcher one day brought a leg of mutton to the kitchen. The cook took it\nand clapped it in the pot to boil, and went upstairs for the money; but\nnot returning, the butcher coolly removed the pot lid, took out the\nmutton, and walked away with it in his tray.[1] Yet, while living in\nthese straits, Sheridan, when invited with his son into the country,\nusually went in two chaises and four--he in one, and his son Tom\nfollowing in the other.\n\n[Footnote 1: Haydon--_Autobiography_, vol. ii., p. 104.]\n\nThe end of all was very sad. For some weeks before his death he was\nnearly destitute of the means of subsistence. His noble and royal\nfriends had entirely deserted him. Executions for debt were in his\nhouse, and he passed his last days in the custody of sheriffs' officers,\nwho abstained from conveying him to prison merely because they were\nassured that to remove him would cause his immediate death.[2]\n\n[Footnote 2: _Memoirs of the Life of Sir S. Romilly,_ vol. iii., p.\n262.]\n\nThe Cardinal de Retz sold off everything to pay his debts, but he did\nnot recover his liberty. He described the perpetual anguish of the\ndebtor. He even preferred confinement in the Castle of Vincennes, to\nbeing exposed to the annoyances of his creditors. Mirabeau's life was\none of perpetual debt; for he was a dreadful spendthrift. The only mode\nby which his father could keep him out of scrapes, was by obtaining a\n_lettre de cachet,_ and having him-safely imprisoned. Though Mirabeau\nwielded the powers of the State, when he died he was so poor, or had\nbeen so extravagant, that he was still indebted to the tailor for his\nwedding suit.\n\nLamartine ran through half-a-dozen fortunes, and at the end of his life\nwas \"sending round the hat.\" Lamartine boldly proclaimed that he hated\narithmetic, \"that negative of every noble thought.\" He was accordingly\ndriven to very shabby shifts to live. The _Cours de Litterature_ alone\nbrought him in 200,000 francs a year, yet 'the money ran through his\nhands like quicksilver. His debts are said to have amounted to three\nmillions of francs; yet his style of living remained unchanged. One of\nhis enthusiastic admirers, having stinted himself in subscribing towards\nthe repurchase of the Lamartine estates, went into a fishmonger's one\nday to purchase a piece of turbot. It was too dear for his means. A\ndistinguished-looking personage entered, paused for a moment before the\nturbot, and without questioning the price, ordered the fish to be sent\nto his house. It was M. de Lamartine.\n\nWebster, the American statesman, was afflicted with impecuniosity,\narising from his carelessness about money matters, as well as from his\nextravagance. If we are to believe Theodore Parker, Webster, like Bacon,\ntook bribes. \"He contracted debts and did not settle, borrowed and\nyielded not again. Private money sometimes clove to his hands.... A\nsenator of the United States, he was pensioned by the manufacturers of\nBoston. His later speeches smell of bribes.\" Monroe and Jefferson were\nalways in want of money, and often in debt; though they were both honest\nmen.\n\nThe life which public men lead nowadays, is often an incentive to\nexcessive expenditure. They may be men of moderate means; they may even\nbe poor; but not many of them moving in general society have the moral\ncourage to _seem_ to be so. To maintain their social position, they\nthink it necessary to live as others do. They are thus drawn into the\nvortex of debt, and into all the troubles, annoyances, shabby shifts,\nand dishonesties, which debt involves.\n\nMen of science are for the most part exempt from the necessity of\nshining in society; and hence they furnish but a small number of\ninstances of illustrious debtors. Many of them have been poor, but they\nhave usually lived within their means. Kepler's life was indeed a\nstruggle with poverty and debt; arising principally from the\ncircumstance of his salary, as principal mathematician to the Emperor of\nGermany, having been always in arrear. This drove him to casting\nnativities in order to earn a living. \"I pass my time,\" he once wrote,\n\"in begging at the doors of crown treasurers.\" At his death he left only\ntwenty-two crowns, the dress he wore, two shirts, a few books, and many\nmanuscripts. Leibnitz left behind him a large amount of debt; but this\nmay have been caused by the fact that he was a politician as well as a\nphilosopher, and had frequent occasion to visit foreign courts, and to\nmix on equal terms with the society of the great.\n\nSpinoza was poor in means; yet inasmuch as what he earned by polishing\nglasses for the opticians was enough to supply his wants, he incurred no\ndebts. He refused a professorship, and refused a pension, preferring to\nlive and die independent. Dalton had a philosophical disregard for\nmoney. When his fellow-townsmen at Manchester once proposed to provide\nhim with an independence, that he might devote the rest of his life to\nscientific investigation, he declined the offer, saying that \"teaching\nwas a kind of recreation to him, and that if richer he would probably\nnot spend more time in his investigations than he was accustomed to do.\"\nFaraday's was another instance of moderate means and noble independence.\nLagrange was accustomed to attribute his fame and happiness to the\npoverty of his father, the astronomer royal of Turin. \"Had I been rich,\"\nhe said, \"probably I should not have become a mathematician.\"\n\nThe greatest debtor connected with science was John Hunter, who expended\nall his available means--and they were wholly earned by himself--in\naccumulating the splendid collection now known as the Hunterian Museum.\nAll that he could collect in fees went to purchase new objects for\npreparation and dissection, or upon carpenters' and bricklayers' work\nfor the erection of his gallery. Though his family were left in\nstraitened circumstances at his death, the sale of the collection to the\nnation for \u00a315,000 enabled all his debts to be paid, and at the same\ntime left an enduring monument to his fame.\n\nGreat artists have nearly all struggled into celebrity through poverty,\nand some have never entirely emerged from it. This, however, has been\nmainly because of their improvidence. Jan Steen was always in distress,\narising principally from the habit he had acquired of drinking his own\nbeer; for he was first a brewer, and afterwards a tavern-keeper. He\ndrank and painted alternately, sometimes transferring the drinking\nscenes of which he had been a witness to the canvas, even while himself\nin a state of intoxication. He died in debt, after which his pictures\nrose in value, until now they are worth their weight in gold.\n\nNotwithstanding the large income of Vandyck, his style of living was so\nsplendid and costly as to involve him in heavy debt. To repair his\nfortunes, he studied alchemy for a time, in the hope of discovering the\nphilosopher's stone. But towards the end of his life he was enabled to\nretrieve his position, and to leave a comfortable competency to his\nwidow. Rembrandt, on the other hand, involved himself in debt through\nhis love of art. He was an insatiable collector of drawings, armour, and\narticles of _vertu_, and thus became involved in such difficulties that\nhe was declared a bankrupt. His property remained under legal control\nfor thirteen years, until his death.\n\nThe great Italian artists were for the most part temperate and moderate\nmen, and lived within their means. Haydon, in his Autobiography, says,\n\"Rafaelle, Michael Angelo, Zeuxis, Apelles, Rubens, Reynolds, Titian,\nwere rich and happy. Why? Because with their genius they combined\npractical prudence.\" Haydon himself was an instance of the contrary\npractice. His life was a prolonged struggle with difficulty and debt. He\nwas no sooner free from one obligation, than he was involved in another.\nHis \"Mock Election\" was painted in the King's Bench prison, while he lay\nthere for debt. There is a strange entry in his Journal: \"I borrowed \u00a310\nto-day of my butterman, Webb, an old pupil of mine, recommended to me by\nSir George Beaumont twenty-four years ago, but who wisely, after drawing\nhands, set up _a butter shop_, and was enabled to send his old master\n\u00a310 in his necessity.\" Haydon's Autobiography is full of his contests\nwith lawyers and sheriffs' officers. Creditors dogged and dunned him at\nevery step. \"Lazarus's head,\" he writes, \"was painted just after an\narrest; Eucles was finished from a man in possession; the beautiful face\nin Xenophon in the afternoon, after a morning spent in begging mercy of\nlawyers; and Cassandra's head was finished in agony not to be described,\nand her hand completed after a broker's man in possession, in an\nexecution put in for taxes.\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: Haydon--_Autobiography_, vol. ii., p. 400.]\n\nCowper used to say that he never knew a poet who was not thriftless; and\nhe included himself. Notwithstanding his quiet, retired life, he was\nconstantly outrunning the constable. \"By the help of good management,\"\nhe once wrote, \"and a clear notion of economical matters, I contrived in\nthree months to spend the income of a twelvemonth.\" But though the\nnumber of thriftless poets may be great, it must not be forgotten that\nShakespeare, who stands at the head of the list, was a prudent man. He\neconomized his means, and left his family in comfort. His contemporaries\nwere, however, for the most part indebted men. Ben Jonson was often\nembarrassed, and always poor, borrowing twenty shillings at a time from\nHenslowe; though he rarely denied himself another jolly night at the\n\"Mermaid.\" Massinger was often so reduced in circumstances as not to be\nable to pay his score at the same tavern.\n\nGreene, Peele, and Marlowe lived lives of dissipation, and died in\npoverty. Marlowe was killed in a drunken brawl. When Greene was on his\ndeathbed, dying of the disease which his excesses had caused, he was\nhaunted by the debt of ten pounds which he owed to the shoemaker who had\nlodged him. He then warned his friend Peele to amend his ways; but\nPeele, like him, died in distress and debt, one of the last letters he\nwrote being an imploring letter to Burleigh asking for relief,--\"Long\nsickness,\" said he, \"having so enfeebled me as maketh bashfulness almost\nimpudency.\" Spenser died forsaken, and in want. Ben Jonson says of him\nthat \"he died for lack of bread in King Street, and refused twenty broad\npieces sent to him by my lord of Essex,\" adding, \"he was sorrie he had\nno time to spend them.\"\n\nOf later poets and literary men, Milton died in obscurity, though not in\ndebt. Lovelace died in a cellar. Butler, the author of \"Hudibras,\" died\nof starvation in Rose Alley, the same place in which Dryden was beaten\nby hired ruffians. Otway was hunted by bailiffs to his last hiding-place\non Tower Hill. His last act was to beg a shilling of a gentleman, who\ngave him a guinea; and buying a loaf to appease his hunger, he choked at\nthe first mouthful. Wycherley lay seven years in gaol for debt, but\nlived to die in his bed at nearly eighty. Fielding's extravagance and\ndissipation in early life involved him in difficulties which he never\nentirely shook off, and his death was embittered by the poverty in which\nhe left his widow and child in a foreign land.\n\nSavage had a pension of fifty pounds a year, which he usually spent in a\nfew days. It was then fashionable to wear scarlet cloaks trimmed with\ngold lace; and Johnson one day met him, just after he had got his\npension, with one of these cloaks upon his back, while, at the same\ntime, his naked toes were sticking through his shoes. After living a\nlife of recklessness and dissipation, he died in prison, where he had\nlain six months for debt. In concluding his \"Life of Savage,\" Johnson\nsays: \"This relation will not be wholly without its use, if those who,\nin confidence of superior capacities or attainments, disregard the\ncommon maxims of life, shall be reminded that nothing will supply the\nwant of prudence, and that negligence and irregularity, long continued,\nwill make knowledge useless, wit ridiculous, and genius contemptible.\"\n\nSterne died poor, if he did not die insolvent. At his death, a\nsubscription was got up for the support of his wife and daughter.\nChurchill was imprisoned for debt, occasioned by his dissoluteness and\nextravagance,--Cowper characterizing him as \"spendthrift alike of money\nand of wit.\" Chatterton, reduced to a state of starvation and despair,\npoisoned himself in his eighteenth year. Sir Richard Steele was rarely\nout of debt. In many respects he resembled Sheridan in temperament and\ncharacter. He was full of speculation, and was always on the point of\nsome grand stroke of luck, which was to make his fortune. He was\nperpetually haunted by duns and bailiffs; yet he did not stint himself\nof luxuries so long as he obtained credit. When appointed to the office\nof Commissioner of Stamps, with a moderate income, he set up a carriage\nwith two and sometimes four horses; and he maintained two houses, one in\nLondon, the other at Hampton. His means being altogether inadequate to\nthis style of living, he soon became drowned in greater debt than\nbefore. He was repeatedly impounded by lawyers, and locked up in\nsponging-houses. Executions were put into his houses; his furniture was\nsold off; his wife wanted the commonest necessaries of life; and still\nthe pleasure-loving Steele maintained his equanimity and good temper.\nSomething great was always on the point of turning up in his favour. One\nof his grandest schemes was that for bringing fish alive to the London\nmarket; \"and then,\" said he to his wife, \"you will be better provided\nfor than any lady in England.\" But the good turn never came to Sir\nRichard; and he died out at elbows on his wife's little property in\nWales.\n\nGoldsmith was another of the happy-go-lucky debtors. He swam in debt. He\nwas no sooner out of it, than he was plunged into it again, deeper than\nbefore. The first money he earned as a tutor--it was all the money he\nhad--was spent in buying a horse. His relations raised \u00a350, and sent him\nto the Temple to study law, but he got no farther than Dublin, where he\nspent or gambled away all the money. Then he went to Edinburgh to study\nmedicine, and was forced to fly from it, having become surety for a\nfriend. He started on the tour of Europe without any money in his\npocket--with nothing but his flute; and he begged and played, until he\ncame back to England, as poor as he went. He himself used afterwards to\nsay that there was hardly a kingdom in Europe in which he was not a\ndebtor.[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: FORSTER--_Life of Goldsmith_, ed. 1863, p. 41.]\n\nEven when Goldsmith began to earn money freely, he was still in debt. He\ngave away with one hand what he earned with the other. He was dunned for\nhis milk-score, arrested for rent, threatened by lawyers, but never\nlearnt the wisdom of economy. In the same month in which the second\nedition of his \"Vicar of Wakefield\" was published, his bill of fifteen\nguineas, drawn on Newbery, was returned dishonoured. When he was\nfiguring at Boswell's dinner in Old Bond Street in the \"ratteen suit\nlined with satin, and bloom-coloured silk breeches,\" the clothes\nbelonged to his tailor, and remained unpaid till his death.\n\nProsperity increased his difficulties rather than diminished them; the\nmore money he had, the more thoughtless and lavish was his expenditure.\nHe could refuse no indulgence, either to himself or others. He would\nborrow a guinea and give it to a beggar. He would give the clothes off\nhis back, and the blankets off his bed. He could refuse nobody. To meet\nhis thoughtless expenditure, he raised money by promising to write books\nwhich he never began. He was perpetually discounting to-morrow, and\nmortgaging an estate already overburthened. Thus he died, as he had\nbegun, poor, embarrassed, and in debt. At his death he owed over two\nthousand pounds: \"Was ever poet,\" says Johnson, \"so trusted before?\"\n\nThe case of Goldsmith and others has been cited as instances of the\nharsh treatment of genius by the world, and in proof of the social\ndisabilities of literary men and artists. It has been held that society\nshould be more indulgent to its men of genius, and that Government\nshould do something more for them than it now does. But nothing that\nsociety or Government could do for men of genius would be likely to\nprove of any service to them, unless they will do what other and less\ngifted men do,--exhibit self-respect and practise ordinary economy. We\nmay pity poor Goldsmith, but we cannot fail to see that he was\nthroughout his own enemy. His gains were large, amounting to about\n\u00a38,000 in fourteen years; representing a much larger sum of money at the\npresent day. For his \"History of the Earth and Animated Nature\" he\nreceived \u00a3850,--and the book was, at best, but a clever compilation.\nJohnson said of him that \"if he can tell a horse from a cow, that is the\nextent of his knowledge of zoology.\" The representation of his\n\"Good-natured Man\" produced him \u00a3500. And so on with his other works. He\nwas as successful as Johnson was; but then he had not Johnson's\nsobriety, self-restraint, and self-respect.\n\nYet Goldsmith, in his thoughtful moments, knew the right path, though he\nhad not the courage to pursue it. In a letter to his brother Henry\nrespecting the career of his son, Goldsmith wrote: \"Teach, my dear sir,\nto your son, thrift and economy. Let his poor wandering uncle's example\nbe placed before his eyes. I had learned from books to be disinterested\nand generous before I was taught from experience the necessity of being\nprudent. I had contracted the habits and notions of a philosopher, while\nI was exposing myself to the insidious approaches of cunning; and often\nby being, even with my narrow finances, charitable to excess, I forgot\nthe rules of justice, and placed myself in the very situation of the\nwretch who thanked me for my bounty.\"\n\nByron had scarcely reached manhood when he became involved in debt.\nWriting to Mr. Becher, in his twentieth year, he said, \"_Entre nous_, I\nam cursedly dipped; my debts, everything inclusive, will be nine or ten\nthousand before I am twenty-one.\" On his coming of age, the festivities\nat Newstead were celebrated by means supplied by money-lenders at\nenormously usurious rates of interest. His difficulties did not\ndiminish, but only increased with time. It is said that his mother's\ndeath was occasioned by a fit of rage, brought on by reading the\nupholsterer's bills.[1] When the first canto of \"Childe Harold\" was\npublished, Byron presented the copyright to Mr. Dallas, declaring that\nhe would never receive money for his writings,--a resolution which he\nafterwards wisely abandoned. But his earnings by literature at that time\ncould not have lightened the heavy load of debt under which he\nstaggered. Newstead was sold, and still the load accumulated. Then he\nmarried, probably in the expectation that his wife's fortune would\nrelease him; but her money was locked up, and the step, instead of\nrelieving him, brought only an accession of misery. Every one knows the\nsad result of the union; which was aggravated by the increasing assaults\nof duns and sheriffs' officers.\n\n[Footnote 1: MOORE--_Life of Byron_, ed. 1860. p. 127.]\n\nByron was almost driven to sell the copyright of his books, but he was\nprevented from doing so by his publisher, who pressed upon him a sum of\nmoney to meet his temporary wants. During the first year of his\nmarriage, his house was nine times in the possession of bailiffs, his\ndoor was almost daily beset by duns, and he was only saved from gaol by\nthe privileges of his rank. All this, to a sensitive nature such as his,\nmust have been gall and bitterness; while his wife's separation from\nhim, which shortly followed, could not fail to push him almost to the\npoint of frenzy. Although he had declined to receive money for his first\npoems, Byron altered his views, and even learnt to drive a pretty hard\nbargain with his publisher.[1] But Moore does not, in his biography of\nthe poet, inform us whether he ever got rid, except by death, of his\ngrievous turmoil of debt.\n\n[Footnote 1: \"You offer 1,500 guineas for the new Canto [the fourth of\n'Childe Harold']: I won't take it. I ask two thousand five hundred\nguineas for it, which you will either give or not as you think\nproper.... If Mr. Eustace was to have two thousand for a poem on\nEducation; if Mr. Moore is to have three thousand for Lalla; if Mr.\nCampbell is to have three thousand for his prose or poetry.--I don't\nmean to disparage these gentlemen or their labours.--but I ask the\naforesaid price for mine.\"--_Lord Byron to Mr. Murray_, Sept. 4th,\n1817.]\n\nThere is the greatest difference in the manner in which men bear the\nburden of debt. Some feel it to be no burden at all; others bear it very\nlightly; whilst others look upon creditors in the light of persecutors,\nand themselves in the light of martyrs. But where the moral sense is a\nlittle more keen,--where men use the goods of others, without rendering\nthe due equivalent of money--where they wear unpaid clothes, eat unpaid\nmeat, drink unpaid wines, and entertain guests at the expense of the\nbutcher, grocer, wine-merchant, and greengrocer,--they must necessarily\nfeel that their conduct is of the essence, not only of shabbiness, but\nof dishonesty, and the burden must then bear very heavily indeed.\n\nOf light-hearted debtors, the proportion is considerable. Thus\nTheophilus Cibber, when drowned in debt, begged the loan of a guinea,\nand spent it on a dish of ortolans. Thus Foote when his mother wrote to\nhim--\"Dear Sam, I am in prison for debt--come and help your loving\nmother,\"--replied, \"Dear Mother, so am I, which prevents his duty being\npaid to his loving mother by her affectionate son.\" Steele and Sheridan\nboth bore the load lightly. When entertaining company, they put the\nbailiffs who were in possession in livery, and made them wait at table,\npassing them off as servants. Nothing disturbed Steele's equanimity; and\nwhen driven from London by debt, he carried his generosity into the\ncountry, giving prizes to the lads and lasses assembled at rural games\nand country dances. Sheridan also made very light of his debts, and had\nmany a good joke over them. Some one asked him how it was that the O'\nwas not prefixed to his name, when he replied that he was sure no family\nhad a better right to it, \"for in truth, we _owe_ everybody.\" And when a\ncreditor once apologized for the soiled and tattered state of a bill,\nwhich had been much worn by being so often presented, Sheridan advised\nhim \"as a friend, to take it home and write it _upon parchment_.\"\n\nVery different was it in the case of poor Burns, who was almost driven\ndistracted because he owed a debt of \u00a37 4_s_. for a volunteer's uniform,\nwhich he could not pay. He sent to his friend Thomson, the publisher of\nhis songs, imploring the loan of \u00a35, promising full value in\n\"song-genius.\"[1] His last poem was a \"love song,\" in part payment of\nthe loan, which he composed only a few days before his death.\n\n[Footnote 1: \"After all my boasted independence,\" he said, \"curst\nnecessity compels me to implore you for five pounds. A cruel scoundrel\nof a haberdasher, to whom I owe an account, taking it into his head that\nI am dying, has commenced a process, and will infallibly put me in jail.\nDo, for God's sake, send me that sum, and by return of post. Forgive me\nthis earnestness; but the horrors of a jail have made me half\ndistracted. I do not ask all this gratuitously: for upon returning\nhealth I promise and engage to furnish you with five pounds' worth of\nthe neatest song-genius you have seen.\"--_Burns to Thomson_. 12th July,\n1796. Burns died on the 21st of the same month.]\n\nSydney Smith had a severe struggle with poverty in the early part of his\nlife. He had a poor living, a wide parish, and a large family. His\ndaughter says that his debts occasioned him many sleepless nights, and\nthat she has seen him in an evening, when bill after bill has poured in\n(carefully examining them, and gradually paying them off), quite\novercome by the feeling of the debt hanging over him, cover his face\nwith his hands, and exclaim, \"Ah! I see I shall end my old age in a\ngaol.\"[1] But he bore up bravely under the burden, labouring onward with\na cheerful heart, eking out his slender means by writing articles for\nthe _Edinburgh_, until at length promotion reached him, and he reaped\nthe reward of his perseverance, his industry, and his independence.\n\n[Footnote 1: LADY HOLLAND--_Memoir of the Rev. Sydney Smith_, vol. i, p.\n206.]\n\nDe Foe's life was a long battle with difficulty and debt. He was\nconstantly involved in broils, mostly of his own stirring up. He was a\nfierce pamphleteer from his youth up; and was never for a moment at\nrest, He was by turns a soldier with the Duke of Monmouth, a pantile\nmaker, a projector, a poet, a political agent, a novelist, an essayist,\na historian. He was familiar with the pillory, and spent much of his\ntime in gaol. When reproached by one of his adversaries with\nmercenariness, he piteously declared how he had, \"in the pursuit of\npeace, brought himself into innumerable broils;\" how he had been \"sued\nfor other men's debts, and stripped naked by public opinion, of what\nshould have enabled him to pay his own;\" how, \"with a numerous family,\nand with no helps but his own industry, he had forced his way, with\nundiscouraged diligence, through a sea of debt and misfortune,\" and \"in\ngaols, in retreats, and in all manner of extremities, supported himself\nwithout the assistance of friends and relations.\" Surely, there never\nwas such a life of struggle and of difficulty as that of the\nindefatigable De Foe. Yet all his literary labours, and they were\nenormous, did not suffice to keep him clear of debt, for it is believed\nthat he died insolvent.[2]\n\n[Footnote 2: George Chalmers--_Life of De Foe,_ p. 92.]\n\nSouthey was, in his own line, almost as laborious a writer as De Foe;\nthough his was the closet life of the student, and not the aggressive\nlife of the polemic. Though he knew debt, it never became his master;\nand from an early period in his career, he determined not to contract a\ndebt that he was not able to discharge. He was not only enabled to do\nthis, but to help his friends liberally--maintaining for a time the\nfamilies of his brothers-in-law, Coleridge and Lovell--by simply not\nallowing himself any indulgences beyond his actual means, though these\nwere often very straitened. The burthen he carried would have borne down\na man less brave and resolute; but he worked, and studied, and wrote,\nand earned money enough for all his own wants, as well as the wants of\nthose who had become dependent upon him. He held on his noble way\nwithout a murmur or complaint. He not only liberally helped his\nrelatives, but his old schoolfellows, in distress. He took Coleridge's\nwife and family to live with him, at a time when Coleridge had abandoned\nhimself to opium-drinking. To meet the numerous claims upon him, Southey\nmerely imposed upon himself so much extra labour. He was always ready\nwith good advice to young men who sought his help. Thus he encouraged\nKirke White, Herbert Knowles, and Dusantoy, all of whom died young and\nfull of promise. He not only helped them with advice and encouragement,\nbut with money; and his timely assistance rescued the sister of\nChatterton from absolute want. And thus he worked on nobly and\nunselfishly to the last--finding happiness and joy in the pursuit of\nletters--\"not so learned as poor, not so poor as proud, not so proud as\nhappy.\" These were his own words.\n\nThe most touching story in Sir Walter Scott's life, is the manner in\nwhich he conducted himself after the failure of the publishing house of\nConstable and Co., with which he had become deeply involved. He had\nbuilt Abbotsford, become a laird, was sheriff of his county, and thought\nhimself a rich man; when suddenly the Constable firm broke down, and he\nfound himself indebted to the world more than a hundred thousand pounds.\n\"It is very hard,\" he said, when the untoward news reached him, \"thus to\nlose all the labour of a lifetime, and to be made a poor man at last.\nBut if God grant me health and strength for a few years longer, I have\nno doubt that I shall redeem it all.\" Everybody thought him a ruined\nman, and he almost felt himself to be so. But his courage never gave\nway. When his creditors proposed to him a composition, his sense of\nhonour forbade his listening to them. \"No, gentlemen,\" he replied; \"Time\nand I against any two.\" Though the debts had been contracted by others,\nhe had made himself legally responsible for them; and, strong in his\nprinciple of integrity, he determined, if he could, to pay them off to\nthe last farthing. And he set himself to do it: but it cost him his\nlife.\n\nHe parted with his town house and furniture, delivered over his personal\neffects to be held in trust for his creditors, and bound himself to\ndischarge a certain amount of his liabilities annually. This he did by\nundertaking new literary works, some of them of great magnitude, the\nexecution of which, though they enabled him to discharge a large portion\nof his debt, added but little to his reputation. One of his first tasks\nwas his \"Life of Napoleon Buonaparte,\" in nine volumes, which he wrote,\nin the midst of pain, sorrow, and ruin, in about thirteen\nmonths,--receiving for it about fourteen thousand pounds. Even though\nstruck by paralysis, he went on writing until in about four years he had\ndischarged about two-thirds of the debt for which he was\nresponsible,--an achievement probably unparalleled in the history of\nletters.\n\nThe sacrifices and efforts which he made during the last few years of\nhis life, even while paralyzed and scarcely able to hold his pen,\nexhibit Scott in a truly heroic light. He bore up with unconquerable\nspirit to the last. When his doctor expostulated with him against his\nexcessive brain-work, he replied, \"If I were to be idle, I should go\nmad: in comparison to this, death is no risk to shrink from.\" Shortly\nbefore his last fatal attack, when sitting dozing in his chair on the\ngrass in front of the house at Abbotsford, he suddenly roused himself,\nthrew off the plaids which covered him, and exclaimed, \"This is sad\nidleness. Take me to my own room, and fetch the keys of my desk.\" They\nwheeled him into his study, and put pens and paper before him. But he\ncould not grasp the pen; he could not write; and the tears rolled down\nhis cheeks. His spirit was not conquered, but his bodily powers were\nexhausted and shattered; and when at length he died, he fell\nasleep--like a child.\n\nScott felt, what every sensitive nature must feel, that poverty is a\nmuch lighter burden to bear than debt. There is nothing ignominious\nabout poverty. It may even serve as a healthy stimulus to great spirits.\n\"Under gold mountains and thrones,\" said Jean Paul, \"lie buried many\nspiritual giants.\" Richter even held that poverty was to be welcomed, so\nthat it came not too late in life. And doubtless Scott's burden was all\nthe heavier to bear, because it came upon him in his declining years.\n\nShakespeare was originally a poor man: \"It is a question,\" says Carlyle,\n\"whether, had not want, discomfort, and distress warrants been busy at\nStratford-on-Avon, Shakespeare had not lived killing calves or combing\nwool! \"To Milton's and Dryden's narrow means we probably owe the best\npart of their works.\n\nJohnson was a very poor man, and a very brave one. He never knew what\nwealth was. His mind was always greater than his fortune; and it is the\nmind that makes the man rich or poor, happy or miserable. Johnson's\ngruff and bluff exterior covered a manly and noble nature. He had early\nknown poverty and debt, and wished himself clear of both. When at\ncollege, his feet appeared through his shoes, but he was too poor to buy\nnew ones. His head was full of learning, but his pockets were empty. How\nhe struggled through distress and difficulty during his first years in\nLondon the reader can learn from his \"Life.\" He bedded and boarded for\nfourpence-halfpenny a day, and when too poor to pay for a bed, he\nwandered with Savage whole nights in the streets.[1] He struggled on\nmanfully, never whining at his lot, but trying to make the best of it.\n\n[Footnote 1: \"He said a man might live in a garret at eighteen-pence a\nweek; few people would inquire where he lodged; and if they did, it was\neasy to say, 'Sir, I am to be found at such a place.' By spending\nthreepence in a coffee house, he might be for some hours every day in\nvery good company; he might dine for sixpence, breakfast on bread and\nmilk for a penny, and do without supper. On _clean-shirt day_ he went\nabroad and paid visits.\" BOSWELL--_Life of Johnson_.]\n\nThese early sorrows and struggles of Johnson left their scars upon his\nnature; but they also enlarged and enriched his experience, as well as\nwidened his range of human sympathy. Even when in his greatest distress\nhe had room in his heart for others whose necessities were greater than\nhis own; and he was never wanting in his help to those who needed it, or\nwere poorer than himself.\n\nFrom his sad experience, no one could speak with greater authority on\nthe subject of debt than Johnson. \"Do not accustom yourself,\" he wrote\nto Boswell, \"to consider debt only an inconvenience; you will find it a\ncalamity. Let it be your first care not to be in any man's debt.\nWhatever you have, spend less. Frugality is not only the basis of quiet,\nbut of beneficence.\" To Simpson, the barrister, he wrote, \"Small debts\nare like small shot; they are rattling on every side, and can scarcely\nbe escaped without a wound: great debts are like cannon, of loud noise,\nbut little danger. You must therefore be enabled to discharge petty\ndebts, that you may have leisure, with security to struggle with the\nrest.\" \"Sir,\" said he to the patient and receptive Boswell, \"get as much\npeace of mind as you can, and keep within your income, and you won't go\nfar wrong.\"\n\nMen who live by their wits, their talents, or their genius, have,\nsomehow or other, acquired the character of being improvident. Charles\nNodier, writing about a distinguished genius, said of him--\"In the life\nof intelligence and art, he was an angel; in the common practical life\nof every day, he was a child.\" The same might be said of many great\nwriters and artists. The greatest of them have been so devoted--heart\nand soul--to their special work, that they have not cared to think how\nthe efforts of their genius might be converted into pounds, shillings,\nand pence. Had they placed the money consideration first, probably the\nworld would not have inherited the products of their genius. Milton\nwould not have laboured for so many years at his \"Paradise Lost,\" merely\nfor the sake of the five pounds for which he sold the first edition to\nthe publisher. Nor would Schiller have gone on toiling for twenty years\nup to the topmost pinnacles of thought, merely for the sake of the bare\nmeans of living which he earned by his work.\n\nAt the same time, men of genius should not disregard the common rules of\narithmetic. If they spend more than they earn, they will run into debt.\nNor will complaining of the harshness of the world keep them out of it.\nThey have to stand or fall on their merits as men, and if they are not\nprovident they will suffer the same consequences as others. Thackeray,\nin painting the character of Captain Shandon, in his \"Pendennis,\" gave\nconsiderable offence to the literary profession; yet he only spoke the\ntruth. \"If a lawyer,\" said he, \"or a soldier, or a parson, outruns his\nincome, and does not pay his bills, he must go to gaol; and an author\nmust go too.\"\n\nLiterary men are not neglected because they are literary men. But they\nhave no right to expect that society will overlook their social offences\nbecause they are literary men. It is necessary for the world's sake, as\nwell as for their own sake, that literary men and artists should take\ncare to \"provide against the evil day\" like other people. \"Imagination\nand art,\" says Madame de Sta\u00ebl, \"have need to look after their own\ncomfort and happiness in this world.\" The world ought to help them\ngenerously; all good men ought to help them; but what is better than\nall, they ought to help themselves.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\nRICHES AND CHARITY.\n\n\n \"Who--who--who's here\n I, Robert of Doncaster.\n That I spent, that I had;\n That I gave, that I have;\n That I left, that I lost.\"\n        _Epitaph_, A.D. 1579.\n\n\"If thou art rich, thou art poor;\nFor, like an ass, whose back with ingots bows\nThou bear'st thy heavy riches but a journey\nAnd death unloads thee.\"--_Shakespeare_.\n\n\"II est bon d'\u00eatre charitable,\n Mais envers qui? C'est l\u00e0 le point.\"--_La Fontaine_.\n\n\"There are many idlers to whom a penny begged is sweeter than a shilling\nearned.\"--_Douglas Jerrold_.\n\n\"He stole a pig, and in God's name gave the trotters to the\npoor.\"--_From the Spanish._\n\n\nMan must be thrifty in order to be generous. Thrift does not end with\nitself, but extends its benefits to others. It founds hospitals, endows\ncharities, establishes colleges, and extends educational influences.\nBenevolence springs from the best qualities of the mind and heart. Its\ndivine spirit elevates the benefactors of the world--the Howards,\nClarksons, and Naviers--to the highest pedestals of moral genius and of\nnational worship.\n\nThe same feeling pervades our common humanity. The poorest man, the\ndaily worker, the obscurest individual, shares the gift and the blessing\nof doing good--a blessing that imparts no less delight to him who gives\nthan to him who receives.\n\n\"Man is dear to man; the poorest poor\nLong for some moments, in a weary life,\nWhen they can know and feel that they have been\nThemselves the fathers and the dealers-out\nOf some small blessings; have been kind to such\nAs needed kindness, for this single cause,\nThat we have all of us one human heart.\"\n\nThe duty of helping the helpless is one that speaks trumpet-tongued; but\nespecially to those who profess love to God and goodwill to men. It is a\nduty that belongs to men as individuals, and as members of the social\nbody. As individuals, because we are enjoined to help the widow and the\nfatherless in their affliction; and as members of the social body,\nbecause society claims of every man that he shall be a helper in the\ncause of progress and of social well-being.\n\nIt is not necessary that men should be rich, to be helpful to others.\nJohn Pounds was not a rich man; yet by his influence Ragged Schools were\nestablished. He was temperate, and saved enough from his earnings to buy\nfood for his pupils. He attracted them by his kindness, sometimes by a\n\"hot potato;\" he taught them, and sent them out into the world,\nfortified by his good example, to work in it, and do their duty towards\nit. Nor was Robert Raikes, the founder of Sunday and other schools, a\nrich man; neither was Thomas Wright, the prison philanthropist. Nor were\nSt. Vincent de Paul and Father Mathew--the promoters of education and\ntemperance. Nor were the great men of science--Newton, Watt, and\nFaraday; nor the great missionaries--Xavier, Martyn, Carey, and\nLivingstone.\n\nA fine instance of gentleness and generosity is recorded in Walton's\nmemoir of Dr. Donne. When the latter, long straitened in his means, had\nentered upon the Deanery of St. Paul's, and was thereby provided with an\nincome more than sufficient for all his wants, he felt that those means\nhad been entrusted to him, for good uses, and to employ for human help\nand to the glory of the Giver thereof. At the foot of a private account,\n\"to which God and His angels only were witnesses with him,\" Dr. Donne\ncomputed first his revenue, then what was given to the poor and other\npious uses, and lastly, what rested for him and his; and having done\nthat, he then blessed each year's poor remainder with a thankful prayer.\n\n\nDr. Donne did most of his good in secret, letting not his right hand\nknow what his left hand did. He redeemed many poor from prison; helped\nmany a poor scholar; and employed a trusty servant or a discreet friend\nto distribute his bounty where it was most needed. A friend whom he had\nknown in days of affluence, having by a too liberal heart and\ncarelessness become decayed in his estate and reduced to poverty, Donne\nsent him a hundred pounds. But the decayed gentleman returned it with\nthanks, saying that he wanted it not;--for, says Walton, in narrating\nthe event, \"as there be some spirits so generous as to labour to conceal\nand endure a sad poverty, rather than expose themselves to those blushes\nthat attend the confession of it, so there be others to whom nature and\ngrace have afforded such sweet and compassionate souls as to pity and\nprevent the distresses of mankind; which I have mentioned because of Dr.\nDonne's reply, whose answer was, 'I know you want not what will sustain\nnature, for a little will do that; but my desire is that you, who in the\ndays of your plenty have cheered and raised the hearts of so many of\nyour dejected friends, would now receive this from me, and use it as a\ncordial for the cheering of your own;'\"--and upon these terms it was\nreceived.\n\nThe truth is, that we very much exaggerate the power of riches. Immense\nsubscriptions are got up for the purpose of reforming men from their\nsinful courses, and turning them from evil to good. And yet\nsubscriptions will not do it. It is character that can do the work;\nmoney never can. Great changes in society can never be effected through\nriches. To turn men from intemperance, improvidence, and irreligion, and\nto induce them to seek their happiness in the pursuit of proper and\nnoble objects, requires earnest purpose, honest self-devotion, and hard\nwork. Money may help in many respects; but money by itself can do\nnothing. The apostle Paul planted the knowledge of the Christian\nreligion over half the Roman empire; yet he supported himself by\ntent-making, and not by collecting subscriptions. Men of anxious,\nearnest, honest hearts, are far more wanted than rich men--willing to\ngive money in charity.\n\nNothing is so much over-estimated as the power of money. All the people\nwho are looking out for front seats in \"society,\" think it the one thing\nneedful. They may be purse-liberal, but they are also purse-proud. The\nhypocritical professions of some people, with a view to elicit the good\nopinion of others, in the teeth of their daily life and practice, is\nnothing short of disgusting. \"Oh, Geordie, jingling Geordie,\" said King\nJames, in the novel, \"it was grand to hear Baby Charles laying down the\nguilt of dissimulation, and Steenie lecturing on the turpitude of\nincontinence!\"\n\nSome people have an idolatrous worship of money. The Israelites had\ntheir golden Calf; the Greeks had their golden Jupiter. Old Bounderby\nvalued the man who was worth a \"hundred thousand pounds.\" Others do the\nsame. The lowest human nature loves money, possessions, value. \"What is\nhe worth?\" \"What is his income?\" are the usual questions. If you say,\n\"There is a thoroughly good, benevolent, virtuous man!\" nobody will\nnotice him. But if you say, \"There is a man worth a million of money,\"\nhe will be stared at till out of sight. A crowd of people used to\ncollect at Hyde Park Corner to see a rich man pass. \"Here comes old\nCrockie!\" and the crowd would separate to allow him to pass, amidst\nwhispers of admiration. It was old Crockford, who made a large fortune\nby keeping a gambling-house.\n\n\"The very sound of millions,\" says Mrs. Gore,[1] \"tickles the ear of an\nEnglishman! He loves it so much, indeed, that it all but reconciles him\nto the National Debt; and when applied to private proprietorship, it\nsecures deference for lowness of mind, birth, habits, and pursuits....\nAmbition and money-love, if they tend to ennoble a country, reduce to\ninsignificance the human particles of which the nation is composed. In\ntheir pursuit of riches, the English are gradually losing sight of\nhigher characteristics; ... our pursuit of railway bubbles and every\nother frantic speculation of the hour, affords sufficient evidence of\nthe craving after capital superseding every better aspiration, whether\nfor this world or the next.\"\n\n[Footnote 1: Introduction to \"Men of Capital.\"]\n\nThe love of gold threatens to drive everything before it. The pursuit of\nmoney has become the settled custom of the country. Many are so absorbed\nby it, that every other kind of well-being is either lost sight of, or\naltogether undervalued. And then the lovers of money think to recover\ntheir moral tone by bestowing charity! Mountains of gold weigh heavily\nupon the heart and soul. The man who can withstand the weight of riches,\nand still be diligent, industrious, and strong in mind and heart, must\nbe made of strong stuff. For, people who are rich, are almost invariably\ndisposed to be idle, luxurious, and self-indulgent.\n\n\"If money,\" said the Rev. Mr. Griffiths, Rector of Merthyr, \"did not\nmake men forget men, one-half of the evil that is in the world would\nnever occur. If masters drew nearer to the men, and men were permitted\nto draw nearer their masters, we should not be passing through this\nfiery ordeal. Let them do something to win the men out of the\npublic-houses; let them spare more of their enormous gains to build\nplaces of amusement and recreation for the people; let them provide\nbetter houses to live in, better conveniences for decency, better\nstreets; and if all these things are done we shall have neither\nlock-outs nor strikes. We hear with pomp and triumph of the millions and\nmillions that have been dug out of this old Welsh land of ours, but we\nhear nothing--and we see, indeed, less--of the public buildings, the\npeople's parks, the public libraries and public institutions, and other\ncivilizing agencies. Fifteen months ago, when we were in the highest\ntide of prosperity, I said all this, and no notice was taken of it. Why\nshould any notice be taken of a preaching parson or a Christian minister\nof any kind, when sovereigns fly about like snowflakes in winter, or may\nbe gathered like blackberries in summer?\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: Sermon preached at Merthyr during the South Wales strike.]\n\nMen go on toiling and moiling, eager to be richer; desperately\nstruggling, as if against poverty, at the same time that they are\nsurrounded with abundance. They scrape and scrape, add shilling to\nshilling, and sometimes do shabby things in order to make a little more\nprofit; though they may have accumulated far more than they can actually\nenjoy. And still they go on, worrying themselves incessantly in the\nendeavour to grasp at an additional increase of superfluity. Perhaps\nsuch men have not enjoyed the advantages of education in early life.\nThey have no literary pleasures to fall back upon; they have no taste\nfor books; sometimes they can scarcely write their own names. They have\nnothing to think of but money,--and of what will make money. They have\nno faith, but in riches! They keep their children under restriction and\nbring them up with a servile education.\n\nAt length, an accumulation of money comes into the children's hands.\nThey have before been restricted in their expenditure; now they become\nlavish. They have been educated in no better tastes. They spend\nextravagantly. They will not be drudges in business as their father was.\nThey will be \"gentlemen,\" and spend their money \"like gentlemen.\" And\nvery soon the money takes wings and flies away. Many are the instances\nin which families have been raised to wealth in the first generation,\nlaunched into ruinous expense in the second, and disappeared in the\nthird,--being again reduced to poverty. Hence the Lancashire proverb,\n\"Twice clogs, once boots.\" The first man wore clogs, and accumulated a\n\"a power o' money;\" his rich son spent it; and the third generation took\nup the clogs again. A candidate for parliamentary honours, when speaking\nfrom the hustings, was asked if he had plenty brass. \"Plenty brass?\"\nsaid he; \"ay, I've lots o' brass!--I stink o' brass!\"\n\nThe same social transformations are known in Scotland. The proverb there\nis, \"The grandsire digs, the father bigs, the son thigs,\"[1]--that is,\nthe grandfather worked hard and made a fortune, the father built a fine\nhouse, and the son, \"an unthrifty son of Linne,\" when land and goods\nwere gone and spent, took to thieving. Merchants are sometimes princes\nto-day and beggars to-morrow; and so long as the genius for speculation\nis exercised by a mercantile family, the talent which gave them landed\nproperty may eventually deprive them of it.\n\n[Footnote 1: _Dublin University Magazine_.]\n\nTo be happy in old age--at a time when men should leave for ever the\ntoil, anxiety, and worry of money-making--they must, during youth and\nmiddle life, have kept their minds healthily active. They must\nfamiliarize themselves with knowledge, and take an interest in all that\nhas been done, and is doing, to make the world wiser and better from age\nto age. There is enough leisure in most men's lives to enable them to\ninterest themselves in biography and history. They may also acquire\nconsiderable knowledge of science, or of some ennobling pursuit\ndifferent from that by which money is made. Mere amusement will not do.\nNo man can grow happy upon amusement. The mere man of pleasure is a\nmiserable creature,--especially in old age. The mere drudge in business\nis little better. Whereas the study of literature, philosophy, and\nscience is full of tranquil pleasure, down to the end of life. If the\nrich old man has no enjoyment apart from money-making, his old age\nbecomes miserable. He goes on grinding and grinding in the same rut,\nperhaps growing richer and richer. What matters it? He cannot eat his\ngold. He cannot spend it. His money, instead of being beneficial to him,\nbecomes a curse. He is the slave of avarice, the meanest of sins. He is\nspoken of as a despicable creature. He becomes base, even in his own\nestimation.\n\nWhat a miserable end was that of the rich man who, when dying, found no\ncomfort save in plunging his hands into a pile of new sovereigns, which\nhad been brought to him from the bank. As the world faded from him, he\nstill clutched them; handled and fondled them one by one,--and then he\npassed away,--his last effort being to finger his gold! Elwes the miser\ndied shrieking, \"I will keep my money!--nobody shall deprive me of my\nproperty!\" A ghastly and humiliating spectacle!\n\nRich men are more punished for their excess of economy, than poor men\nare for their want of it. They become miserly, think themselves daily\ngrowing poorer, and die the deaths of beggars. We have known several\ninstances. One of the richest merchants in London, after living for some\ntime in penury, went down into the country, to the parish where he was\nborn, and applied to the overseers for poor's relief. Though possessing\nmillions, he was horror-struck by the fear of becoming poor. Relief was\ngranted him, and he positively died the death of a pauper. One of the\nrichest merchants in the North died in the receipt of poor's relief. Of\ncourse, all that the parish authorities had doled out to these poor-rich\nmen was duly repaid by their executors.\n\nAnd what did these rich persons leave behind them? Only the reputation\nthat they had died rich men. But riches do not constitute any claim to\ndistinction. It is only the vulgar who admire riches as riches. Money is\na drug in the market. Some of the most wealthy men living are mere\nnobodies. Many of them are comparatively ignorant. They are of no moral\nor social account. A short time since, a list was published of two\nhundred and twenty-four English millionaires. Some were known as screws;\nsome were \"smart men\" in regard to speculations; some were large\nnavvies, coal-miners, and manufacturers; some were almost unknown beyond\ntheir own local circle; some were very poor creatures; very few were men\nof distinction. All that one could say of them was, that they died rich\nmen.\n\n\"All the rich and all the covetous men in the world,\" said Jeremy\nTaylor, \"will perceive, and all the world will perceive for them, that\nit is but an ill recompense for all their cares, that by this time all\nthat shall be left will be this, that the neighbours shall say, _He died\na rich man:_ and yet his wealth will not profit him in the grave, but\nhugely swell the sad accounts of his doomsday.\"\n\n\"One of the chief causes,\" says Mrs. Gore, \"which render the pursuit of\nwealth a bitterer as well as more pardonable struggle in England than on\nthe Continent, is the unequal and capricious distribution of family\nproperty.... Country gentlemen and professional men,--nay, men without\nthe pretension of being gentlemen,--are scarcely less smitten with the\nmania of creating 'an eldest son' to the exclusion and degradation of\ntheir younger children; and by the individuals thus defrauded by their\nnearest and dearest, is the idolatry of Mammon pursued without the least\nregard to self-respect, or the rights of their fellow-creatures.\nInjured, they injure in their turn. Their days are devoted to a campaign\nfor the recovery of their birthright. Interested marriages, shabby\nbargains, and political jobbery, may be traced to the vile system of\nthings which converts the elder son into a Dives, and makes a Lazarus of\nhis brother.\"\n\nBut democrats have quite as great a love for riches as aristocrats; and\nmany austere republicans are eager to be millionaires. Forms of\ngovernment do not influence the desire for wealth. The elder Cato was a\nusurer. One of his means of making money was by buying young half-fed\nslaves at a low price; then, by fattening them up, and training them to\nwork, he sold them at an enhanced price. Brutus, when in the Isle of\nCyprus, lent his money at forty-eight per cent. interest,[1] and no one\nthought the worse of him for his Usury. Washington, the hero of American\nfreedom, bequeathed his slaves to his wife. It did not occur to him to\ngive them their liberty. Municipal jobbery is not unknown in New York;\nand its influential citizens are said to be steeped to the lips in\npolitical corruption. Mr. Mills says, that the people of the\nNorth-Eastern States have apparently got rid of all social injustices\nand inequalities; that the proportion of population to capital and land\nis such as to ensure abundance for every able-bodied man; that they\nenjoy the six points of the Charter, and need never complain of poverty.\nYet \"all that these advantages have done for them is, that the life of\nthe whole of our sex is devoted to dollar-hunting; and of the other, to\nbreeding dollar-hunters. This,\" Mr. Mill adds, \"is not a kind of social\nperfection which philanthropists to come will feel any very eager desire\nto assist in realizing.\"[2]\n\n[Footnote 1: Cicero's Letters]\n\n[Footnote 2: _Principles of Political Economy_, Book iv., ch. vi.]\n\nSaladin the Great conquered Syria, Arabia, Persia, and Mesopotamia. He\nwas the greatest warrior and conqueror of his time. His power and wealth\nwere enormous. Yet he was fully persuaded of the utter hollowness of\nriches. He ordered, by his will, that considerable sums should be\ndistributed to Mussulmans, Jews, and Christians, in order that the\npriests of the three religions might implore for him the mercy of God.\nHe commanded that the shirt or tunic which he wore at the time of his\ndeath should be carried on the end of a spear throughout the whole camp\nand at the head of his army, and that the soldier who bore it should\npause at intervals and say aloud, \"Behold all that remains of the\nEmperor Saladin!--of all the states he had conquered; of all the\nprovinces he had subdued; of the boundless treasures he had amassed; of\nthe countless wealth he possessed, he retained, in dying, nothing but\nthis shroud!\"\n\nDon Jose de Salamanca, the great railway contractor of Spain, was, in\nthe early part of his life, a student at the University of Granada. He\nthere wore, as he himself says, the oldest and most worn of cassocks. He\nwas a diligent student; and after leaving college he became a member of\nthe Spanish press. From thence he was translated to the Cabinet of Queen\nChristina, of which he became Finance Minister. This brought out his\ncommercial capacities, and induced him to enter on commercial\nspeculations. He constructed railways in Spain and Italy, and took the\nprincipal share in establishing several steam-shipping companies. But\nwhile pursuing commerce, he did not forget literature. Once a week he\nkept an open table, to which the foremost men in literature and the\npress were invited. They returned his hospitality by inviting him to a\ndinner on the most economic scale. Busts of Shakespeare, Cervantes,\nDante, Schiller, and other literary men, adorned the room.\n\nIn returning thanks for his health, Salamanca referred to his university\nexperience, and to his labours in connection with the press. \"Then,\" he\nwent on to say, \"the love of gold took possession of my soul, and it was\nat Madrid that I found the object of my adoration; but not, alas!\nwithout the loss of my juvenile illusions. Believe me, gentlemen, the\nman who can satisfy all his wishes has no more enjoyment. Keep to the\ncourse you have entered on, I advise you. Rothschild's celebrity will\nexpire on the day of his death. Immortality can be earned, not bought.\nHere are before us the effigies of men who have gloriously cultivated\nliberal arts; their busts I have met with in every part of Europe; but\nnowhere have I found a statue erected to the honour of a man who has\ndevoted his life to making money.\"\n\nRiches and happiness have no necessary connection with each other. In\nsome cases it might be said that happiness is in the inverse proportion\nto riches. The happiest part of most men's lives is while they are\nbattling with poverty, and gradually raising themselves above it. It is\nthen that they deny themselves for the sake of others,--that they save\nfrom their earnings to secure a future independence,--that they\ncultivate their minds while labouring for their daily bread,--that they\nendeavour to render themselves wiser and better--happier in their homes\nand more useful to society at large. William Chambers, the Edinburgh\npublisher, speaking of the labours of his early years, says, \"I look\nback to those times with great pleasure, and I am almost sorry that I\nhave not to go through the same experience again; for I reaped more\npleasure when I had not a sixpence in my pocket, studying in a garret in\nEdinburgh, than I now find when sitting amidst all the elegancies and\ncomforts of a parlour.\"\n\nThere are compensations in every condition of life. The difference in\nthe lot of the rich and the poor is not so great as is generally\nimagined. The rich man has often to pay a heavy price for his\nprivileges. He is anxious about his possessions. He may be the victim of\nextortion. He is apt to be cheated. He is the mark for every man's\nshaft. He is surrounded by a host of clients, till his purse bleeds at\nevery pore. As they say in Yorkshire when people become rich, the money\nsoon \"broddles through.\" Or, if engaged in speculation, the rich man's\nwealth may fly away at any moment. He may try again, and then wear his\nheart out in speculating on the \"chances of the market.\" _Insomnia_ is a\nrich man's disease. The thought of his winnings and losings keeps him\nsleepless. He is awake by day, and awake by night. \"Riches on the brain\"\nis full of restlessness and agony.\n\nThe rich man over-eats or over-drinks; and he has gout. Imagine a man\nwith a vice fitted to his toe. Let the vice descend upon the joint, and\nbe firmly screwed down. Screw it again. He is in agony. Then suddenly\nturn the screw tighter--down, down! That is gout! Gout--of which\nSydenham has said, that \"unlike any other disease, it kills more rich\nmen than poor, more wise than simple. Great kings, emperors, generals,\nadmirals, and philosophers, have died of gout. Hereby nature shows her\nimpartiality, since those whom she favours in one way, she afflicts in\nanother Or, the rich man may become satiated with food, and lose his\nappetite; while the poor man relishes and digests anything. A beggar\nasked alms of a rich man \"because he was hungry.\" \"Hungry?\" said the\nmillionaire; \"how I envy you!\" Abernethy's prescription to the rich man\nwas, \"Live upon a shilling a day, and earn it!\" When the Duke of York\nconsulted him about his health, Abernethy's answer was, \"Cut off the\nsupplies, and the enemy will soon leave the citadel.\" The labourer who\nfeels little and thinks less, has the digestion of an ostrich; while the\nnon-worker is never allowed to forget that he has a stomach, and is\nobliged to watch every mouthful that he eats. Industry and indigestion\nare two things seldom found united.\n\nMany people envy the possessions of the rich, but will not pass through\nthe risks, the fatigues, or the dangers of acquiring them. It is related\nof the Duke of Dantzic that an old comrade, whom he had not seen for\nmany years, called upon him at his hotel in Paris, and seemed amazed at\nthe luxury of his apartments, the richness of his furniture, and the\nmagnificence of his gardens. The Duke, supposing that he saw in his old\ncomrade's face a feeling of jealousy, said to him bluntly, \"You may have\nall that you see before you, on one condition.\" \"What is that?\" said his\nfriend. \"It is that you will place yourself twenty paces off, and let me\nfire at you with a musket a hundred times.\" \"I will certainly not accept\nyour offer at that price.\" \"Well,\" replied the Marshal, \"to gain all\nthat you see before you, I have faced more than a thousand gunshots,\nfired at not move than ten paces off.\"\n\nThe Duke of Marlborough often faced death. He became rich, and left a\nmillion and a half to his descendants to squander. The Duke was a\npenurious man. He is said to have scolded his servant for lighting four\ncandles in his tent, when Prince Eugene called upon him to hold a\nconference before the battle of Blenheim. Swift said of the Duke, \"I\ndare hold a wager that in all his compaigns he was never known to lose\nhis baggage.\" But this merely showed his consummate generalship. When\nill and feeble at Bath, he is said to have walked home from the rooms to\nhis lodgings, to save sixpence. And yet this may be excused, for he may\nhave walked home for exercise. He is certainly known to have given a\nthousand pounds to a young and deserving soldier who wished to purchase\na commission. When Bolingbroke was reminded of one of the weaknesses of\nMarlborough, he observed, \"He was so great a man, that I forgot that he\nhad that defect.\"\n\nIt is no disgrace to be poor. The praise of honest poverty has often\nbeen sung. When a man will not stoop to do wrong, when he will not sell\nhimself for money, when he will not do a dishonest act, then his poverty\nis most honourable. But the man is not poor who can pay his way, and\nsave something besides. He who pays cash for all that he purchases, is\nnot poor but well off. He is in a happier condition than the idle\ngentleman who runs into debt, and is clothed, shod, and fed at the\nexpense of his tailor, shoemaker, and butcher. Montesquieu says, that a\nman is not poor because he has nothing, but he is poor when he will not\nor cannot work. The man who is able and willing to work, is better off\nthan the man who possesses a thousand crowns without the necessity for\nworking.\n\nNothing sharpens a man's wits like poverty. Hence many of the greatest\nmen have originally been poor men. Poverty often purifies and braces a\nman's morals. To spirited people, difficult tasks are usually the most\ndelightful ones. If we may rely upon the testimony of history, men are\nbrave, truthful, and magnanimous, not in proportion to their wealth, but\nin proportion to their smallness of means. And the best are often the\npoorest,--always supposing that they have sufficient to meet their\ntemporal wants. A divine has said that God has created poverty, but He\nhas not created misery. And there is certainly a great difference\nbetween the two. While honest poverty is honourable, misery is\nhumiliating; inasmuch as the latter is for the most part the result of\nmisconduct, and often of idleness and drunkenness. Poverty is no\ndisgrace to him who can put up with it; but he who finds the beggar's\nstaff once get warm in his hand, never does any good, but a great amount\nof evil.\n\nThe poor are often the happiest of people--far more so than the rich;\nbut though they may be envied, no one will be found willing to take\ntheir place. Moore has told the story of the over-fed, over-satisfied\neastern despot, who sent a messenger to travel through the world, in\norder to find out the happiest man. When discovered, the messenger was\nimmediately to seize him, take his shirt off his back, and bring it to\nthe Caliph. The messenger found the happiest man in an Irishman,--happy,\ndancing, and flourishing his shillelagh. But when the ambassador\nproceeded to seize him, and undress him, he found that the Irishman had\ngot no shirt to his back!\n\nThe portion of Agur is unquestionably the best: \"Remove far from me\nvanity and lies; give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with food\nconvenient for me.\" The unequal distribution of the disposition to be\nhappy, is of far greater importance than the unequal distribution of\nwealth. The disposition to be content and satisfied, said David Hume, is\nat least equal to an income of a thousand a year. Montaigne has observed\nthat Fortune confers but little. Human good or ill does not depend upon\nit. It is but the seed of good, which the soul, infinitely stronger than\nwealth, changes and applies as it pleases, and is thus the only cause of\na happy or unhappy disposition.\n\nEngland is celebrated for its charities. M. Guizot declares that there\nis nothing in this land that so fills the mind of the stranger with\namazement at our resources, and admiration at our use of them, as the\nnoble free-gift monuments raised on every side for the relief of\nmultiform suffering. The home philanthropist, who looks a little deeper\nthan the foreign visitor, may be disposed to take another view of the\neffects of money-giving. That charity produces unmixed good, is very\nmuch questioned. Charity, like man, is sometimes blind, and frequently\nmisguided. Unless money is wisely distributed, it will frequently do\nmore harm than good. If charity could help or elevate the poor, London\nwould now be the happiest city in the world; for about three millions of\nmoney are spent on charity, and about one in every three of the London\npopulation are relieved by charitable institutions.\n\nIt is very easy to raise money for charity. Subscription lists\nconstantly attest the fact. A rich man is asked by some influential\nperson for money. It is very easy to give it. It saves time to give it.\nIt is considered a religious duty to give it. Yet to give money\nunthinkingly, to give it without considering how it is to be\nused,--instead of being for the good of our fellow-creatures,--may often\nprove the greatest injury we could inflict upon them. True benevolence\ndoes not consist in giving money. Nor can charitable donations, given\nindiscriminately to the poor, have any other effect than to sap the\nfoundations of self-respect, and break down the very outworks of virtue\nitself. There are many forms of benevolence which create the very evils\nthey are intended to cure, and encourage the poorer classes in the habit\nof dependence upon the charity of others,--to the neglect of those far\nhealthier means of social well-being which lie within their own reach.\n\nOne would think that three million a year were sufficient to relieve all\nthe actual distress that exists in London. Yet the distress,\nnotwithstanding all the money spent upon it, goes on increasing. May not\nthe money spent in charity, create the distress it relieves,--besides\ncreating other distress which it fails to relieve? Uneducated and idle\npeople will not exert themselves for a living, when they have the hope\nof obtaining the living without exertion. Who will be frugal and\nprovident, when charity offers all that frugality and providence can\nconfer? Does not the gift of the advantages, comforts, and rewards of\nindustry, without the necessity of labouring for them, tend to sap the\nvery foundations of energy and self-reliance? Is not the circumstance\nthat poverty is the only requisite qualification on the part of the\napplicant for charity, calculated to tempt the people to\nself-indulgence, to dissipation, and to those courses of life which keep\nthem poor?\n\nMen who will not struggle and exert themselves, are those who are helped\nfirst. The worst sort of persons are made comfortable: whilst the\nhard-working, self-supporting man, who disdains to throw himself upon\ncharity, is compelled to pay rates for the maintenance of the idle.\nCharity stretches forth its hand to the rottenest parts of society; it\nrarely seeks out, or helps, the struggling and the honest. As Carlyle\nhas said, \"O my astonishing benevolent friends! that never think of\nmeddling with the material while it continues sound; that stress and\nstrain it with new rates and assessments, till even it has given way and\ndeclared itself rotten; whereupon you greedily snatch at it, and say,\n'Now let us try to do some good upon it!'\"\n\nThe charity which merely consists in giving, is an idle\nindulgence--often an idle vice. The mere giving of money will never do\nthe work of philanthropy. As a recent writer has said, \"The crimes of\nthe virtuous, the blasphemies of the pious, and the follies of the wise,\nwould scarcely fill a larger volume than the cruelties of the humane. In\nthis world a large part of the occupation of the wise has been to\nneutralize the efforts of the good.\"\n\n\"Public charities,\" said the late Lord Lytton, \"are too often merely a\nbonus to public indolence and vice. What a dark lesson of the fallacy of\nhuman wisdom does this knowledge strike into the heart! What a waste of\nthe materials of kindly sympathies! What a perversion individual\nmistakes can cause, even in the virtues of a nation! Charity is a\nfeeling dear to the pride of the human heart--it is an aristocratic\nemotion! Mahomet testified his deep knowledge of his kind when he\nallowed the vice hardest to control,--sexual licentiousness; and\nencouraged the virtue easiest to practise,--charity.\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: LORD LYTTON--_England and the English_, p. 124.]\n\nThere are clergymen in London who say that charity acts against the\nextension of religion amongst the people. The Rev. Mr. Stone says, \"He\nis an unwelcome visitor to the poor who brings the Bible in one hand,\nwithout a loaf, a blanket, or a shilling in the other. And no wonder. By\nthe prevailing system of charitable relief they have been _nursed_ in\nthis carnal spirit; they have been justified in those selfish\nexpectations. Instead of being allowed to learn the great and salutary\nlesson of providence, that there is a necessary connection between their\nconduct and their condition, they have, by this artificial system, been\ntaught that indigence is _of itself_ sufficient to constitute a claim to\nrelief. They have been thus encouraged in improvidence, immorality,\nfraud, and hypocrisy.\"\n\nThe truest philanthropists are those who endeavour to prevent misery,\ndependence, and destitution; and especially those who diligently help\nthe poor to help themselves. This is the great advantage of the\n\"Parochial Mission-Women Association.\"[1] They bring themselves into\nclose communication with the people in the several parishes of London,\nand endeavour to assist them in many ways. But they avoid giving\nindiscriminate alms. Their objects are \"to help the poor to help\nthemselves, and to raise them by making them feel that they _can_ help\nthemselves.\" There is abundant room for philanthropy amongst all\nclasses; and it is most gratifying to find ladies of high distinction\ntaking part in this noble work.\n\n[Footnote 1: See _East and West_, edited by the Countess Spencer.]\n\nThere are numerous other societies established of late years, which\nafford gratifying instances of the higher and more rational, as well as\nreally more Christian, forms of charity. The societies for improving the\ndwellings of the industrial classes,--for building baths and\nwashhouses,--for establishing workmen's, seamen's, and servants'\nhomes,--for cultivating habits of providence and frugality amongst the\nworking-classes,--and for extending the advantages of knowledge amongst\nthe people,--are important agencies of this kind. These, instead of\nsapping the foundations of self-reliance, are really and truly helping\nthe people to help themselves, and are deserving of every approbation\nand encouragement. They tend to elevate the condition of the mass; they\nare embodiments of philanthropy in its highest form; and are calculated\nto bear good fruit through all time.\n\nRich men, with the prospect of death before them, are often very much\nconcerned about their money affairs. If unmarried and without\nsuccessors, they find a considerable difficulty in knowing what to do\nwith the pile of gold they have gathered together during their lifetime.\nThey must make a will, and leave it to somebody. In olden times, rich\npeople left money to pay for masses for their souls. Perhaps many do so\nstill. Some founded almshouses; others hospitals. Money was left for the\npurpose of distributing doles to poor persons, or to persons of the same\nname and trade as the deceased.\n\n\"These doles,\" said the wife of a clergyman in the neighbourhood of\nLondon, \"are doing an infinite deal of mischief: they are rapidly\npauperising the parish.\" Not long since, the town of Bedford was\ncorrupted and demoralized by the doles and benefactions which rich men\nhad left to the poorer classes. Give a man money without working for it,\nand he will soon claim it as a right. It practically forbids him to\nexercise forethought, or to provide against the vicissitudes of trade,\nor the accidents of life. It not only breaks down the bulwarks of\nindependence, but the outposts of virtue itself.\n\nLarge sums of money are left by rich men to found \"Charities.\" They wish\nto do good, but in many cases they do much moral injury. Their\n\"Charities\" are anything but charitable. They destroy the self-respect\nof the working-classes, and also of the classes above them. \"We can get\nthis charity for nothing. We can get medical assistance for nothing. We\ncan get our children educated for nothing. Why should we work? Why\nshould we save?\" Such is the idea which charity, so-called, inculcates.\nThe \"Charitable Institution\" becomes a genteel poor-house; and the\nlesson is extensively taught that we can do better by begging than by\nworking.\n\nThe bequeathment of Stephen Girard, the wealthy American merchant, was\nof a different character. Girard was a native of Bordeaux. An orphan at\nan early age, he was put on board a ship as a cabin boy. He made his\nfirst voyage to North America when about ten or twelve years old. He had\nlittle education, and only a limited acquaintance with reading and\nwriting. He worked hard. He gradually improved in means so that he was\nable to set up a store. Whilst living in Water Street, New York, he fell\nin love with Polly Luna, the daughter of a caulker. The father forbade\nthe marriage. But Girard persevered, and at length he won and married\nPolly Lum. It proved a most unfortunate marriage. His wife had no\nsympathy with him; and he became cross, snappish, morose. He took to sea\nagain; and at forty he commanded his own sloop, and was engaged in the\ncoasting trade between New York, Philadelphia, and New Orleans.\n\nThen he settled in Philadelphia, and became a merchant. He devoted his\nwhole soul to his business; for he had determined to become rich. He\npractised the most rigid economy. He performed any work by which money\ncould be made. He shut his heart against the blandishments of life. The\ndesire for wealth seems to have possessed his soul. His life was one of\nunceasing labour. Remember, that Girard was unhappy at home. His nature\nmight have been softened, had he been blessed with a happy wife. He led\nten miserable years with her; and then she became insane. She lay for\nabout twenty years in the Pennsylvania hospital, and died there.\n\nYet there was something more than hardness and harshness in Girard.\nThere was a deep under-current of humanity in him. When the yellow fever\nbroke out in Philadelphia, in 1793, his better nature showed itself. The\npeople were smitten to death by thousands. Nurses could not be found to\nattend the patients in the hospital. It was regarded as certain death to\nnurse the sick.\n\n\"Wealth had no power to bribe, nor beauty to charm, the oppressor;\nBut all perished alike beneath the scourge of his anger;\nOnly, alas I the poor, who had neither friends nor attendants,\nCrept away to die in the almshouse, home of the homeless.\"\n\nIt was at this time, when many were stricken with fever, that Girard\nabandoned his business, and offered his services as superintendent of\nthe public hospital. He had Peter Helm for his associate. Girard's\nbusiness faculty immediately displayed itself. His powers of\norganization were immense, and the results of his work were soon\nobserved. Order began to reign where everything had before been in\nconfusion. Dirt was conquered by cleanliness. Where there had been\nwastefulness, there was now thriftiness. Where there had been neglect,\nthere was unremitting attention. Girard saw that every case was properly\nattended to. He himself attended to the patients afflicted by the\nloathsome disease, ministered to the dying, and performed the last kind\noffices for the dead. At last the plague was stayed; and Girard and Helm\nreturned to their ordinary occupations.\n\nThe visitors of the poor in Philadelphia placed the following minute on\ntheir books: \"Stephen Girard and Peter Helm, members of the committee,\ncommiserating the calamitous state to which the sick may probably be\nreduced for want of suitable persons to superintend the hospital,\nvoluntarily offered their services for that benevolent employment, and\nexcited a surprise and satisfaction that can be better conceived than\nexpressed.\"\n\nThe results of Stephen Girard's industry and economy may be seen in\nPhiladelphia--in the beautiful dwelling houses, row after row,--but more\nthan all, in the magnificent marble edifice of Girard College. He left\nthe greater part of his fortune for public purposes,--principally to\nerect and maintain a public library and a large orphanage. It might have\nbeen in regard to his own desolate condition, when cast an orphan\namongst strangers and foreigners, that he devised his splendid charity\nfor poor, forlorn, and fatherless children. One of the rooms in the\ncollege is singularly furnished. \"Girard had directed that a suitable\nroom was to be set apart for the preservation of his books and papers;\nbut from excess of pious care, or dread of the next-of kin, all the\nplain homely man's effects were shovelled into this room. Here are his\nboxes and his bookcase, his gig and his gaiters, his pictures and his\npottery; and in a bookcase, hanging with careless grace, are his\nbraces--old homely knitted braces, telling their tale of simplicity and\ncarefulness.\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: _Gentleman's Magazine_, April. 1875. George Dawson on\n\"Niagara and Elsewhere.\"]\n\nOne of the finest hospitals in London is that founded by Thomas Guy, the\nbookseller. He is said to have been a miser. At all events he must have\nbeen a thrifty and saving man. No foundation such as that of Guy's can\nbe accomplished without thrift. Men who accomplish such things must deny\nthemselves for the benefit of others. Thomas Guy appears early to have\nprojected schemes of benevolence. He first built and endowed almshouses\nat Tamworth for fourteen poor men and women, with pensions for each\noccupant; and with a thoughtfulness becoming his vocation, he furnished\nthem with a library. He had himself been educated at Tamworth, where he\nhad doubtless seen hungry and homeless persons suffering from cleanness\nof teeth and the winter's rage; and the almshouses were his contribution\nfor their relief. He was a bookseller in London at that time. Guy\nprospered, not so much by bookselling, as by buying and selling South\nSea Stock. When the bubble burst, he did not hold a share: but he had\nrealized a profit of several hundred thousand pounds. This sum he\nprincipally employed in building and endowing the hospital which bears\nhis name. The building was roofed in before his death, in 1724.\n\nScotch benefactors for the most part leave their savings for the purpose\nof founding hospitals for educational purposes. There was first the\nHeriot's Hospital, founded in Edinburgh by George Heriot, the goldsmith\nof James I., for maintaining and educating a hundred and eighty boys.\nBut the property of the hospital having increased in value--the New Town\nof Edinburgh being for the most part built on George Heriot's land--the\noperations of the charity have been greatly extended; as many as four\nthousand boys and girls being now educated free of expense, in different\nparts of the city. There are also the George Watson's Hospital, the John\nWatson's Hospital, the Orphan Hospital, two Maiden Hospitals, the\nCauven's Hospital, the Donaldson's Hospital, the Stewart's Hospital, and\nthe splendid Fettes College (recently opened),--all founded by Scottish\nbenefactors for the ordinary education of boys and girls, and also for\ntheir higher education. Edinburgh may well be called the City of\nEducational Endowments. There is also the Madras College, at St.\nAndrews, founded by the late Andrew Bell, D.D.; the Dollar Institution,\nfounded by John Macrat; and the Dick Bequest, for elevating the\ncharacter and position of the parochial schools and schoolmasters, in\nthe counties of Aberdeen, Banff, and Moray. The effects of this last\nbequest have been most salutary. It has raised the character of the\neducation given in the public schools, and the results have been\nfrequently observed at Cambridge, where men from the northern counties\nhave taken high honours in all departments of learning.\n\nEnglish benefactors have recently been following in the same direction.\nThe Owen's College at Manchester; the Brown Library and Museum at\nLiverpool; the Whitworth Benefaction, by which thirty scholarships of\nthe annual value of \u00a3100 each have been founded for the promotion of\ntechnical instruction; and the Scientific College at Birmingham, founded\nby Sir Josiah Mason, for the purpose of educating the rising generation\nin \"sound, extensive, and practical scientific knowledge,\"--form a\nseries of excellent institutions which will, we hope, be followed by\nmany similar benefactions. A man need not moulder with the green grass\nover his grave, before his means are applied to noble purposes. He can\nmake his benefactions while living, and assist at the outset in carrying\nout his liberal intentions.\n\nAmong the great benefactors of London, the name of Mr. Peabody, the\nAmerican banker, cannot be forgotten. It would take a volume to discuss\nhis merits, though we must dismiss him in a paragraph. He was one of the\nfirst to see, or at all events to make amends for, the houseless\ncondition of the working classes of London. In the formation of railways\nunder and above ground, in opening out and widening new streets, in\nerecting new public buildings,--the dwellings of the poor were\ndestroyed, and their occupants swarmed away, no one knew whither.\nPerhaps they crowded closer together, and bred disease in many forms.\nSocieties and companies were formed to remedy the evil to a certain\nextent. Sir Sydney Waterlow was one of the first to lead the way, and he\nwas followed by others. But it was not until Mr. Peabody had left his\nsplendid benefaction to the poor of London, that any steps could be\ntaken to deal with the evil on a large and comprehensive scale. His\ntrustees have already erected ranges of workmen's dwellings in many\nparts of the metropolis,--which will from time to time be extended to\nother parts. The Peabody dwellings furnish an example of what working\nmen's dwellings ought to be. They are clean, tidy, and comfortable\nhomes. They have diminished drunkenness; they have promoted morality.\nMr. Peabody intended that his bounty should \"directly ameliorate the\ncondition and augment the comforts of the poor,\" and he hoped that the\nresults would \"be appreciated, not only by the present, but by future\ngenerations of the people of London.\" From all that the trustees have\ndone, it is clear that they are faithfully and nobly carrying out his\nintentions.\n\nAll these benefactors of the poor were originally men of moderate means.\nSome of them were at one time poor men. Sir Joseph Whitworth was a\njourneyman engineer with Mr. Clement, in Southwark, the inventor of the\nplaning machine. Sir Josiah Mason was by turns a costermonger,\njourneyman baker, shoemaker, carpet weaver, jeweller, split-steel ring\nmaker (here he made his first thousand pounds), steel-pen maker,\ncopper-smelter, and electro-plater, in which last trade he made his\nfortune. Mr, Peabody worked his way up by small degrees, from a clerk in\nAmerica to a banker in London. Their benefactions have been the result\nof self-denial, industry, sobriety, and thrift.\n\nBenevolence throws out blossoms which do not always ripen into fruit. It\nis easy enough to project a benevolent undertaking, but more difficult\nto carry it out. The author was once induced to take an interest in a\nproposed Navvy's Home; but cold water was thrown upon the project, and\nit failed. The navvy workmen, who have made the railways and docks of\nEngland, are a hard-working but a rather thriftless set. They are\ngood-hearted fellows, but sometimes drunken. In carrying out their\noperations, they often run great dangers. They are sometimes so\nseriously injured by wounds and fractures as to be disabled for life.\nFor instance, in carrying out the works of the Manchester, Sheffield,\nand Lincolnshire Railway, there were twenty-two cases of compound\nfractures seventy-four simple fractures, besides burns from blasts,\nsevere contusions, lacerations, and dislocations. One man lost both his\neyes by a blast, another had his arm broken by a blast. Many lost their\nfingers, feet, legs, and arms; which disabled them for further work.\nKnowing the perils to which railway labourers were exposed, it occurred\nto a late eminent contractor to adopt some method for helping and\ncomforting them in their declining years. The subject was brought under\nthe author's notice by his friend the late Mr. Eborall, in the following\nwords: \"I have just been visiting a large contractor--a man of great\nwealth; and he requests your assistance in establishing a 'Navvy's\nHome.' You know that many of the contractors and engineers, who have\nbeen engaged in the construction of railways, are men who have\naccumulated immense fortunes: the savings of some of them amount to\nmillions. Well, my friend the contractor not long since found a\nmiserable, worn-out old man in a ditch by the roadside. 'What,' said he,\n'is that you?' naming the man in the ditch by his name. 'Ay,' replied\nthe man, ''deed it is!' 'What are you doing there?' 'I have come here to\ndie. I can work no more.' 'Why don't you go to the workhouse? they will\nattend to your wants there.' 'No! no workhouse for me! If I am to die, I\nwill die in the open air.' The contractor recognized in the man one of\nhis former navvies. He had worked for him and for other contractors many\nyears; and while they had been making their fortunes, the navvy who had\nworked for them had fallen so low as to be found dying in a ditch. The\ncontractor was much affected. He thought of the numerous other navvies\nwho must be wanting similar help. Shortly after, he took ill, and during\nhis illness, thinking of what he might do for the navvies, the idea\noccurred to him of founding a 'Navvy's Home;' and he has desired me to\nask you to assist him in bringing out the institution.\"\n\nIt seemed to the author an admirable project, and he consented to do all\nthat he could for it. But when the persons who were the most likely to\ncontribute to such an institution were applied to, they threw such\nfloods of cold water upon it,[1] that it became evident, in the face of\ntheir opposition, that \"The Navvy's Home\" could not be established. Of\ncourse, excuses were abundant. \"Navvies were the most extravagant\nworkmen. They threw away everything that they earned. They spent their\nmoney on beer, whisky, tally-women, and champagne. If they died in\nditches, it was their own fault. They might have established themselves\nin comfort, if they wished to do so. Why should other people provide for\nthem in old age, more than for any other class of labourers? There was\nthe workhouse: let them go there.\" And so on. It is easy to find a stick\nto beat a sick dog. As for the original projector, he recovered his\nhealth, he forgot to subscribe for \"The Navvy's Home,\" and the scheme\nfell to the ground.\n\n\"The devil was sick, the devil a saint would be:\nThe devil grew well, the devil a saint was he.'\n\n[Footnote 1: With one admirable exception. A noble-hearted man, still\nliving volunteered a very large subscription towards the establishment\nof \"the Navvy's Home.\"]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV.\n\nHEALTHY HOMES.\n\n\n\"The best security for civilization is the dwelling. \"--_B. Disraeli_.\n\n\"Cleanliness is the elegance of the poor.\"--_English Proverb_.\n\n\"Sanitas sanitatum, et omnia sanitas.\"--_Julius Menochius_.\n\n\"Virtue never dwelt long with filth and nastiness.\"--_Count Rumford_.\n\n\"More servants wait on Man\nThan he'll take notice of: in every path\nHe treads down that which doth befriend him\nWhen sickness makes him pale and wan.\"--_George Herbert_.\n\n\nHealth is said to be wealth. Indeed, all wealth is valueless without\nhealth. Every man who lives by labour, whether of mind or body, regards\nhealth as one of the most valuable of possessions. Without it, life\nwould be unenjoyable. The human system has been so framed as to render\nenjoyment one of the principal ends of physical life. The whole\narrangement, structure, and functions of the human system are\nbeautifully adapted for that purpose.\n\nThe exercise of every sense is pleasurable,--the exercise of sight,\nhearing, taste, touch, and muscular effort. What can be more\npleasurable, for instance, than the feeling of entire health,--health,\nwhich is the sum-total of the functions of life, duly performed?\n\"Enjoyment,\" says Dr. Southwood Smith, \"is not only the end of life, but\nit is the only condition of life which is compatible with a protracted\nterm of existence. The happier a human being is, the longer he lives;\nthe more he suffers, the sooner he dies. To add to enjoyment, is to\nlengthen life; to inflict pain, is to shorten its duration.\"\n\nHappiness is the rule of healthy existence; pain and misery are its\nexceptional conditions. Nor is pain altogether an evil; it is rather a\nsalutary warning. It tells us that we have transgressed some rule,\nviolated some law, disobeyed some physical obligation. It is a monitor\nwhich warns us to amend our state of living. It virtually says,--Return\nto nature, observe her laws, and be restored to happiness. Thus,\nparadoxical though it may seem, pain is one of the conditions of the\nphysical well-being of man; as death, according to Dr. Thomas Brown, is\none of the conditions of the enjoyment of life.\n\nTo enjoy physical happiness, therefore, the natural laws must be\ncomplied with. To discover and observe these laws, man has been endowed\nwith the gift of reason. Does he fail to exercise this gift,--does he\nneglect to comply with the law of his being,--then pain and disease are\nthe necessary consequence.\n\nMan violates the laws of nature in his own person, and he suffers\naccordingly. He is idle and overfeeds himself: he is punished by gout,\nindigestion, or apoplexy. He drinks too much: he becomes bloated,\ntrembling, and weak; his appetite falls off, his strength declines, his\nconstitution decays; and he falls a victim to the numerous diseases\nwhich haunt the steps of the drunkard.\n\nSociety suffers in the same way. It leaves districts undrained, and\nstreets uncleaned. Masses of the population are allowed to live crowded\ntogether in unwholesome dens, half poisoned by the mephitic air of the\nneighbourhood. Then a fever breaks out,--or a cholera, or a plague.\nDisease spreads from the miserable abodes of the poor into the\ncomfortable homes of the rich, carrying death and devastation before it.\nThe misery and suffering incurred in such cases, are nothing less than\nwilful, inasmuch as the knowledge necessary to avert them is within the\nreach of all.\n\nWherever any number of persons live together, the atmosphere becomes\npoisoned, unless means be provided for its constant change and\nrenovation. If there be not sufficient ventilation, the air becomes\ncharged with carbonic acid, principally the product of respiration.\nWhatever the body discharges, becomes poison to the body if introduced\nagain through the lungs. Hence the immense importance of pure air. A\ndeficiency of food may be considerably less injurious than a deficiency\nof pure air. Every person above fourteen years of age requires about six\nhundred cubic feet of shut-up space to breathe in during the twenty-four\nhours.[1] If he sleeps in a room of smaller dimensions, he will suffer\nmore or less, and gradually approach the condition of being smothered.\n\n[Footnote 1: Where six hundred cubic feet of space is allowed, the air\nrequires to be changed, by ventilation, five times in the hour, in order\nto keep it pure. The best amount of space to be allowed for a healthy\nadult is about eight hundred cubic feet. The air which is breathed\nbecomes so rapidly impure, that a constant supply of fresh air must be\nkept up to make the air of the shut-up space fit for breathing. The\nfollowing are some amounts of space per head which are met with in\npractice:--\n\nArtizan rooms                200 cubic feet.\nMetropolitan Lodging\nHouses                       240   \"\nPoor Law Board Dormitories   300   \"\nBarrack Regulation           60    \"\nThe best Hospitals         1,500 to 2,000\n                               cubic feet.]\n\nShut up a mouse in a glass receiver, and it will gradually die by\nrebreathing its own breath. Shut up a man in a confined space, and he\nwill die in the same way. The English soldiers expired in the Black Hole\nof Calcutta because they wanted pure air. Thus about half the children\nborn in some manufacturing towns die, before they are five years old,\nprincipally because they want pure air. Humboldt tells of a sailor who\nwas dying of fever in the close hold of a ship. His comrades brought him\nout of his hold to die in the open air. Instead of dying, he revived,\nand eventually got well. He was cured by the pure air.\n\nThe most common result of breathing impure air, amongst adults, is\nfever. The heaviest municipal tax, said Dr. Southwood Smith, is the\n_fever tax_. It is estimated that in Liverpool some seven thousand\npersons are yearly attacked by fever, of whom about five hundred die.\nFever usually attacks persons of between twenty and thirty, or those who\ngenerally have small families depending on them for support. Hence\ndeaths from fever, by causing widowhood and orphanage, impose a very\nheavy tax upon the inhabitants of all the large manufacturing towns. Dr.\nPlayfair, after carefully considering the question, is of opinion that\nthe total pecuniary loss inflicted on the county of Lancashire from\n_preventible_ disease, sickness, and death, amounts to not less than\nfive millions sterling annually. But this is only the physical and\npecuniary loss. The moral loss is infinitely greater.\n\nWhere are now the \"happy humble swains\" and the \"gentle shepherds\" of\nthe old English poets? At the present time, they are nowhere to be\nfound. The modern Strephon and Phyllis are a very humble pair, living in\na clay-floored cottage, and maintaining a family on from twelve to\nfifteen shillings a week. And so far from Strephon spending his time in\nsitting by a purling stream playing \"roundelays\" upon a pipe,--poor\nfellow! he can scarcely afford to smoke one, his hours of labour are so\nlong, and his wages are so small. As for Daphnis, he is a lout, and can\nneither read nor write; nor is his Chloe any better.\n\nPhineas Fletcher thus sang of \"The Shepherd's Home:\"--\n\n\"Thrice, oh, thrice happie shepherd's life and state!\n  When courts are happinesse, unhappie pawns!\n\nHis cottage low, and safely humble gate.\nShuts out proud Fortune, with her scorns and fawns:\nNo feared treason breaks his quiet sleep:\nSinging all day, his flocks he learns to keep:\nHimself as innocent as are his simple sheep.\n\nHis certain life, that never can deceive him,\nIs full of thousand sweets and rich content:\nThe smooth-leaved beeches in the field receive him\nWith coolest shades, till noontide's rage is spent:\nHis life is neither tost in boist'rous seas\nOf troublous world, nor lost in slothful ease;\nPleased and full blest he lives, when he his God can please.'\n\nWhere, oh where, has this gentle shepherd gone? Have spinning-jennies\nswallowed him up? Alas! as was observed of Mrs. Harris, \"there's no such\na person.\" Did he _ever_ exist? We have a strong suspicion that he never\ndid, save in the imaginations of poets.\n\nBefore the age of railroads and sanitary reformers, the pastoral life of\nthe Arcadians was a beautiful myth, The Blue Book men have exploded it\nfor ever. The agricultural labourers have not decent houses,--only\nmiserable huts, to live in. They have but few provisions for cleanliness\nor decency. Two rooms for sleeping and living in, are all that the\nlargest family can afford. Sometimes they have only one. The day-room,\nin addition to the family, contains the cooking utensils, the washing\napparatus, agricultural implements, and dirty clothes. In the sleeping\napartment, the parents and their children, boys and girls, are\nindiscriminately mixed, and frequently a lodger sleeps in the same and\nonly room, which has generally no window,--the openings in the\nhalf-thatched roof admitting light, and exposing the family to every\nvicissitude of the weather. The husband, having no comfort at home,\nseeks it in the beershop. The children grow up without decency or\nself-restraint. As for the half-hearted wives and daughters, their lot\nis very miserable.\n\nIt is not often that village affairs are made the subject of discussion\nin newspapers, for the power of the press has not yet reached remote\ncountry places. But we do hear occasionally of whole villages being\npulled down and razed, in order to prevent them \"becoming nests of\nbeggars' brats.\" A member of Parliament did not hesitate to confess\nbefore a Parliamentary Committee, that he \"had pulled down between\ntwenty-six and thirty cottages, which, had they been left standing,\nwould have been inhabited by young married couples.\" And what becomes of\nthe dispossessed? They crowd together in the cottages which are left\nstanding, if their owners will allow it; or they crowd into the\nworkhouses; or, more generally, they crowd into the towns, where there\nis at least some hope of employment for themselves and their children.\n\nOur manufacturing towns are not at all what they ought to be; not\nsufficiently pure, wholesome, or well-regulated. But the rural labourers\nregard even the misery of towns as preferable to the worse misery of the\nrural districts; and year by year they crowd into the seats of\nmanufacturing industry in search of homes and employment. This speaks\nvolumes as to the actual state of our \"boasted peasantry, their\ncountry's pride.\"\n\nThe intellectual condition of the country labourers seems to be on a par\nwith their physical state. Those in the western counties are as little\ncivilized as the poor people in the east of London. A report of the\nDiocesan Board of the county of Hereford states that \"a great deal of\nthe superstition of past ages lingers in our parishes. The observation\nof lucky and unlucky days and seasons is by no means unusual; the phases\nof the moon are regarded with great respect,--in one, medicine may be\ntaken, in another it is advisable to kill a pig; over the doors of many\nhouses may be found twigs placed crosswise, and never suffered to lose\ntheir cruciform position; and the horseshoe preserves its old station on\nmany a stable-door. Charms are devoutly believed in; a ring made from a\nshilling, offered at the communion, is an undoubted cure for fits; hair\nplucked from the crop on an ass's shoulder, and woven into a chain, to\nbe put round a child's neck, is powerful for the same purpose; and the\nhand of a corpse applied to the neck is believed to disperse a wen. The\n'evil eye,' so long dreaded in uneducated countries, has its terrors\namong us; and if a person of ill life be suddenly called away, there are\ngenerally some who hear his 'tokens,' or see his ghost. There exists,\nbesides, the custom of communicating deaths to hives of bees, in the\nbelief that they invariably abandon their owners if the intelligence be\nwithheld.\"\n\nSydney Smith has said, with more truth than elegance, that in the\ninfancy of all nations, even the most civilized, men lived the life of\npigs; and if sanitary reporters had existed in times past as they do\nnow, we should doubtless have received an account of the actual\nexistence and domestic accommodation of the old English \"swains\" and\n\"shepherds,\" very different from that given by Phineas Fletcher. Even\nthe mechanics of this day are more comfortably lodged than the great\nlanded gentry of the Saxon and Norman periods: and if the truth could be\ngot at, it would be found that, bad as is the state of our agricultural\nlabourers now, the condition of their forefathers was no better.\n\nThe first method of raising a man above the life of an animal is to\nprovide him with a healthy home. The Home is after all the best school\nfor the world. Children grow up into men and women there; they imbibe\ntheir best and their worst morality there; and their morals and\nintelligence are in a great measure well or ill trained there. Men can\nonly be really and truly humanized and civilized through the institution\nof the Home. There is domestic purity and moral life in the good home;\nand individual defilement and moral death in the bad one. The\nschoolmaster has really very little to do with the formation of the\ncharacters of children. These are formed in the home, by the father and\nmother,--by brothers, sisters, and companions. It does not matter how\ncomplete may be the education given in schools. It may include the whole\nrange of knowledge: yet if the scholar is under the necessity of daily\nreturning to a home which is indecent, vicious, and miserable, all this\nlearning will prove of comparatively little value. Character and\ndisposition are the result of home training; and if these are, through\nbad physical and moral conditions, deteriorated and destroyed, the\nintellectual culture acquired in the school may prove an instrumentality\nfor evil rather than for good.\n\nThe home should not be considered merely as an eating and sleeping\nplace; but as a place where self-respect may be preserved, and comfort\nsecured, and domestic pleasures enjoyed. Three-fourths of the petty\nvices which degrade society, and swell into crimes which disgrace it,\nwould shrink before the influence of self-respect. To be a place of\nhappiness, exercising beneficial influences upon its members,--and\nespecially upon the children growing up within it,--the home must be\npervaded by the spirit of comfort, cleanliness, affection, and\nintelligence. And in order to secure this, the presence of a\nwell-ordered, industrious, and educated woman is indispensable. So much\ndepends upon the woman, that we might almost pronounce the happiness or\nunhappiness of the home to be woman's work. No nation can advance except\nthrough the improvement of the nation's homes; and these can only be\nimproved through the instrumentality of women. They must _know_ how to\nmake homes comfortable; and before they can know, they must have been\ntaught.\n\nWomen must, therefore, have sufficient training to fit them for their\nduties in real life. Their education should be conducted throughout,\nwith a view to their future position as wives, mothers, and housewives.\nBut amongst all classes, even the highest, the education of girls is\nrarely conducted with this object. Amongst the working people, the girls\nare sent out to work; amongst the higher classes, they are sent out to\nlearn a few flashy accomplishments; and men are left to pick from them,\nvery often with little judgment, the future wives and mothers of\nEngland.\n\nMen themselves attach little or no importance to the intelligence or\nindustrial skill of women; and they only discover their value when they\nfind their homes stupid and cheerless. Men are caught by the glance of a\nbright eye, by a pair of cherry cheeks, by a handsome figure; and when\nthey \"fall in love,\" as the phrase goes, they never bethink them of\nwhether the \"loved one\" can mend a shirt or cook a pudding. And yet the\nmost sentimental of husbands must come down from his \"ecstatics\" so soon\nas the knot is tied; and then he soon enough finds out that the clever\nhands of a woman are worth far more than her bright glances; and if the\nshirt and pudding qualifications be absent, then woe to the unhappy man,\nand woe also to the unhappy woman! If the substantial element of\nphysical comfort be absent from the home, it soon becomes hateful; the\nwife, notwithstanding all her good looks, is neglected; and the\npublic-house separates those whom the law and the Church have joined\ntogether.\n\nMen are really desperately ignorant respecting the home department. If\nthey thought for a moment of its importance, they would not be so ready\nto rush into premature housekeeping. Ignorant men select equally\nignorant women for their wives; and these introduce into the world\nfamilies of children, whom they are utterly incompetent to train as\nrational or domestic beings. The home is no home, but a mere lodging,\nand often a very comfortless one.\n\nWe speak not merely of the poorest labourers, but of the best-paid\nworkmen in the large manufacturing towns. Men earning from two to three\npounds a week,--or more than the average pay of curates and bankers'\nclerks,--though spending considerable amounts on beer, will often grudge\nso small a part of their income as half-a-crown a week to provide decent\nhomes for themselves and their children. What is the consequence? They\ndegrade themselves and their families. They crowd together, in foul\nneighbourhoods, into dwellings possessing no element of health or\ndecency; where even the small rental which they pay is in excess of the\naccommodation they receive. The results are inevitable,--loss of\nself-respect, degradation of intelligence, failure of physical health,\nand premature death. Even the highest-minded philosopher, placed in such\na situation, would gradually gravitate towards brutality.\n\nBut the amount thus saved, or rather not expended on house-rent, is not\neconomy; it is reckless waste. The sickness caused by the bad dwelling\ninvolves frequent interruptions of work, and drains upon the Savings\nBank or the Benefit Society; and a final and rapid descent to the\npoor-rates. Though the loss to the middle and upper classes is great,\nthe loss is not for a moment to be compared with that which falls upon\nthe working classes themselves, through their neglect in providing\nwholesome and comfortable dwellings for their families. It is, perhaps,\nnot saying too much to aver, that one-half the money expended by benefit\nsocieties in large towns, may be set down as pecuniary loss arising from\nbad and unhealthy homes.\n\nBut there is a worse consequence still. The low tone of physical health\nthereby produced is one of the chief causes of drunkenness. Mr. Chadwick\nonce remonstrated with an apparently sensible workman on the expenditure\nof half his income on whisky. His reply was, \"Do you, sir, come and live\nhere, and you will drink whisky too.\" Mr. Leigh says, \"I would not be\nunderstood that habits of intoxication are _wholly_ due to a defective\nsanitary condition; but no person can have the experience I have had\nwithout coming to the conclusion that _unhealthy_ and unhappy\nhomes,--loss of _vital_ and consequently of _industrial_ energy, and a\nconsciousness of inability to control external circumstances,--induce\nthousands to escape from miserable depression in the temporary\nexcitement of noxious drugs and intoxicating liquors. They are like the\nseamen who struggle for awhile against the evils by which they are\nsurrounded, but at last, seeing no hope, stupefy themselves with drink,\nand perish.\"\n\nIt may be said, in excuse, that working people must necessarily occupy\nsuch houses as are to be had, and pay the rental asked for them, bad and\nunwholesome though they be. But there is such a thing as supply and\ndemand; and the dwellings now supplied are really those which are most\nin demand, because of their lowness of rental. Were the working classes\nto shun unwholesome districts, and low-priced dwellings, and rent only\nsuch tenements as were calculated to fulfil the requirements of a\nwholesome and cleanly home, the owners of property would be compelled to\nimprove the character of their houses, and raise them to the required\nstandard of comfort and accommodation. The real remedy must lie with the\nworking classes themselves. Let them determine to raise their standard\nof rental, and the reform is in a great measure accomplished.\n\nWe have already shown how masters have done a great deal for the better\naccommodation of their work-people--how the benefactors of the poor,\nsuch as Mr. Peabody and Lady Burdett Coutts, have promoted the building\nof healthy homes. Yet the result must depend upon the individual action\nof the working classes themselves. When they have the choice of living\nin a dwelling situated in a healthy locality, and of another situated in\nan unhealthy locality, they ought to choose the former. But very often\nthey do not. There is perhaps a difference of sixpence a week in the\nrental, and, not knowing the advantages of health, they take the\nunhealthy dwelling because it is the cheapest. But the money that sickly\npeople have to pay for physic, doctors' bills, and loss of wages, far\nmore than exceeds the amount saved by cheaper rental,--not to speak of\nthe loss of comfort, the want of cleanliness, and the depression of\nspirits, which is inevitable where foul air is breathed.\n\nTo build a wholesome dwelling costs little more than to build an\nunwholesome one. What is wanted on the part of the builder is, a\nknowledge of sanitary conditions, and a willingness to provide the\nproper accommodation. The space of ground covered by the dwelling is the\nsame in both cases; the quantity of bricks and mortar need be no\ngreater; and pure air is of the same price as foul air. Light costs\nnothing.\n\nA healthy home, presided over by a thrifty, cleanly woman, may be the\nabode of comfort, of virtue, and of happiness. It may be the scene of\nevery ennobling relation in family life. It may be endeared to a man by\nmany delightful memories, by the affectionate voices of his wife, his\nchildren, and his neighbours. Such a Home will be regarded, not as a\nmere nest of common instinct, but as a training-ground for young\nimmortals, a sanctuary for the heart, a refuge from storms, a sweet\nresting-place after labour, a consolation in sorrow, a pride in success,\nand a joy at all times.\n\nMuch has been done to spread the doctrines of Sanitary Science. There is\nno mystery attached to it, otherwise we should have had professors\nteaching it in colleges (as we have now), and graduates practising it\namongst the people. It is only of recent years that it has received\ngeneral recognition; and we owe it, not to the medical faculty, but to a\nbarrister, that it has become embodied in many important Acts of\nParliament.\n\nEdwin Chadwick has not yet received ordinary justice from his\ncontemporaries. Though he has been one of the most indefatigable and\nsuccessful workers of the age, and has greatly influenced the\nlegislation of his time, he is probably less known than many a\nfourth-rate parliamentary talker.\n\nMr. Chadwick belongs to a Lancashire family, and was born near\nManchester. He received his education chiefly in London. Having chosen\nthe law for his profession, he was enrolled a student of the Inner\nTemple in his twenty-sixth year. There he \"ate his way\" to the Bar;\nmaintaining himself by reporting and writing for the daily press. He was\nnot a man of an extraordinary amount of learning. But he was a sagacious\nand persevering man. He was ready to confront any amount of labour in\nprosecuting an object, no matter how remote its attainment might at\nfirst sight appear to be.\n\nAt an early period in his career, Edwin Chadwick became possessed by an\nidea. It is a great thing to be thoroughly possessed by an idea,\nprovided its aim and end be beneficent. It gives a colour and bias to\nthe whole of a man's life. The idea was not a new one; but being taken\nup by an earnest, energetic, and hard-working man, there was some hope\nfor the practical working out of his idea in the actual life of\nhumanity. It was neither more nor less than the Sanitary Idea,--the germ\nof the sanitary movement.\n\nWe must now briefly state how he worked his way to its practical\nrealization. It appears that Mr. Morgan, the Government actuary, had\nstated before a parliamentary committee, that though the circumstances\nof the middle classes had improved, their \"expectation of life\" had not\nlengthened. This being diametrically opposed to our student's idea, he\nendeavoured to demonstrate the fallacy of the actuary's opinion. He read\nup and sifted numerous statistical documents,--Blue Books, life-tables,\nand population-tables. He bored his way through the cumbrous pile, and\nbrought an accumulation of facts from the most unlooked-for quarters,\nfor the purpose of illustrating his idea, and elucidating his\nmaster-thought.\n\nThe result was published in the _Westminster Review_ for April, 1828.\nMr. Chadwick demonstrated, by an immense array of facts and arguments,\nthat the circumstances which surround human beings _must_ have an\ninfluence upon their health; that health _must_ improve with an\nimprovement of these circumstances; that many of the diseases and\nconditions unfavourable to human life were under man's control, and\ncapable of being removed; that the practice of vaccination, the\ndiminution of hard drinking amongst the middle and upper classes, the\nincrease of habits of cleanliness, the improvements in medical science,\nand the better construction of streets and houses, _must_, according to\nall medical and popular experience, have contributed, _\u00e0 priori_, to\nlengthen life; and these he proved by a citation of facts from numerous\nauthentic sources. In short, Mr. Morgan was wrong. The \"expectancy of\nlife,\" as is now universally admitted, has improved and is rapidly\nimproving amongst the better classes; but it was never thoroughly\ndemonstrated until Edwin Chadwick undertook the discussion of the\nquestion.\n\nAnother article, which Mr. Chadwick published in the _London Review_, in\n1829, on \"Preventive Police,\" was read by Jeremy Bentham, then in his\neighty-second year, who so much admired it, that he craved an\nintroduction to the writer. The consequence was the formation of a\nfriendship that lasted without interruption until the death of the\nphilosopher in 1832. Mr. Bentham wished to engage the whole of his young\nfriend's time in assisting him with the preparation of his\nAdministrative Code, and he offered to place him in independent\ncircumstances if he would devote himself exclusively to the advancement\nof his views. The offer was, however, declined.\n\nMr. Chadwick completed his law studies, and was called to the bar in\nNovember, 1830. He was preparing to enter upon the practice of common\nlaw, occasionally contributing articles to the _Westminster_, when he\nwas, in 1832, appointed a commissioner, in conjunction with Dr.\nSouthwood Smith and Mr. Tooke, to investigate the question of Factory\nLabour, which Lord Ashley and Mr. Sadler were at that time strongly\npressing upon public attention. The sanitary idea again found\nopportunity for expression in the report of the commission, which\nreferred to \"defective drainage, ventilation, water supply, and the\nlike, as causes of disease,--acting, concurrently with excessive toil,\nto depress the health and shorten the lives of the factory population.\"\n\nIn the same year (1832) an important Commission of Inquiry was appointed\nby Lord Grey's Government, in reference to the operation of the Poor\nLaws in England and Wales. Mr. Chadwick was appointed one of the\nassistant commissioners, for the purpose of taking evidence on the\nsubject; and the districts of London and Berkshire were allotted to him.\nHis report, published in the following year, was a model of what a\nreport should be. It was full of information, admirably classified and\narranged, and was so racy,--by virtue of the facts brought to light, and\nthe care taken to preserve the very words of the witnesses as they were\nspoken,--that the report may be read with interest by the most\ninveterate enemy of blue-books.\n\nMr. Chadwick showed himself so thoroughly a master of the subject,--his\nsuggestions were so full of practical value,--that he was, shortly after\nthe publication of the report, advanced from the post of assistant\ncommissioner to that of chief commissioner: and he largely shared, with\nMr. Senior, in the labours and honours of the commissioners' report\nsubmitted to the House of Commons in 1834, and also in the famous\nPoor-Law Amendment Act passed in the same year, in which the\nrecommendations of the commissioners were substantially adopted and\nformalized.\n\nOne may venture to say now, without fear of contradiction, that that law\nwas one of the most valuable that has been placed on the statute-book in\nmodern times. And yet no law proved more unpopular than this was, for\nyears after it had been enacted. But Mr. Chadwick never ceased to have\nperfect faith in the soundness of the principles on which it was based,\nand he was indefatigable in defending and establishing it. It has been\nwell said, that \"to become popular is an easy thing; but to do unpopular\njustice,--that requires a Man.\" And Edwin Chadwick is the man who has\nnever failed in courage to do the right thing, even though it should\nprove to be the unpopular thing.\n\nWhilst burrowing amidst the voluminous evidence on the Poor Laws, Mr.\nChadwick never lost sight of his sanitary idea. All his reports were\nstrongly imbued with it. One-fourth of the then existing pauperism was\ntraced by him to the preventible causes of disease. His minute\ninvestigations into the condition of the labouring population and of the\npoorer classes generally, gave him a thorough acquaintance with the\nphysical evils that were preying upon the community, carrying them off\nby fevers, consumption, and cholera; and the sanitary idea took still\nfirmer possession of his mind.\n\nOne day, in 1838, while engaged in his official vocation of Secretary to\nthe Poor-Law Commission, an officer of the Whitechapel Union hastily\nentered the Board-room of the Poor-Law Commission, and, with a troubled\ncountenance, informed the secretary that a terrible fever had broken out\nround a stagnant pool in Whitechapel; that the people were dying by\nscores; and that the extreme malignity of the cases gave reason to\napprehend that the disease was allied to Asiatic cholera. On hearing\nthis, the Board, at Mr. Chadwick's instance, immediately appointed Drs.\nArnott, Kay, and Southwood Smith to investigate the causes of this\nalarming mortality, and to report generally upon the sanitary condition\nof London. This inquiry at length ripened into the sanitary inquiry.\n\nIn the meantime, Mr. Chadwick had been engaged as a member of the\nCommission, to inquire as to the best means of establishing an efficient\nconstabulary force in England and Wales. The evidence was embodied in a\nreport, as interesting as a novel of Dickens, which afforded a curious\ninsight into the modes of living, the customs and habits, of the lowest\nclasses of the population. When this question had been dismissed, Mr.\nChadwick proceeded to devote himself almost exclusively to the great\nwork of his life,--the Sanitary Movement.\n\nThe Bishop of London, in 1839, moved in the Lords, that the inquiry\nwhich had been made at Mr. Chadwick's instance by Drs. Southwood Smith,\nArnott, and Kay, into the sanitary state of the metropolis, should be\nextended to the whole population, city, rural, and manufacturing, of\nEngland and Wales. Some residents in Edinburgh also petitioned that\nScotland might be included; and accordingly, in August, 1839, Lord John\nRussell addressed a letter to the Poor-Law Board, authorizing them by\nroyal command to extend to the whole of Great Britain the inquiry into\npreventible disease, which had already been begun with regard to the\nmetropolis. The onerous task of setting on foot and superintending the\ninquiry throughout,--of sifting the evidence, and classifying and\ncondensing it for the purposes of publication,--devolved upon Mr.\nChadwick.\n\nThe first Report on the Health of Towns was ready for publication in\n1842. It _ought_ to have appeared as the Official Report of the Poor-Law\nBoard; but as the commissioners (some of whom were at variance with Mr.\nChadwick with respect to the New Poor-Law) refused to assume the\nresponsibility of a document that contained much that must necessarily\noffend many influential public bodies, Mr. Chadwick took the\nresponsibility upon himself, and it was published as _his_\nreport,--which indeed it was,--and accepted from him as such by the\ncommissioners.\n\nThe amount of dry, hard work encountered by Mr. Chadwick in the\npreparation of this and his other reports can scarcely be estimated,\nexcept by those who know anything of the labour involved in extracting\nfrom masses of evidence, written and printed, sent in from all parts of\nthe empire, only the most striking results bearing upon the question in\nhand, and such as are deemed worthy of publication. The mountains of\npaper which Mr. Chadwick has thus bored through in his lifetime must\nhave been immense; and could they now be presented before him in one\npile, they would appal even _his_ stout heart!\n\nThe sensation excited throughout the country by the publication of Mr.\nChadwick's Sanitary Report was immense. Such a revelation of the horrors\nlying concealed beneath the fair surface of our modern civilization, had\nnever before been published. But Mr. Chadwick had no idea of merely\ncreating a sensation. He had an object in view, which he persistently\npursued. The report was nothing, unless its recommendations were\nspeedily carried into effect. A sanitary party was formed; and the\nministers for the time being, aided by members of both sides in\npolitics, became its influential leaders.\n\nA Sanitary Commission was appointed in 1844, to consider the whole\nquestion in its practical bearings. The Commission published two\nreports, with a view to legislation, but the Free-Trade struggle\ninterfered, and little was done for several years. Meanwhile our\nsanitary reformer was occupied as a Commissioner in inquiring into the\ncondition of the metropolis. The Commission published three reports, in\nwhich the defective drainage, sewage, and water-supply of London were\ndiscussed in detail; and these have recently been followed by important\nacts of legislation.\n\nThe sanitary idea at length had its triumph in the enactment of the\nPublic Health Act of 1848, and the appointment of a General Board of\nHealth (of which Mr. Chadwick was a member) to superintend its\nadministration. Numerous supplemental measures have since been enacted,\nwith the view of carrying into practical effect the sanitary principles\nadopted by the Board. Reports continued to be published, from time to\ntime, full of valuable information: for instance, in reference to the\napplication of Sewage water to agricultural purposes; on Epidemic\nCholera; on Quarantine; on Drainage; on Public Lodging-houses; and the\nlike. The sanitary movement, in short, became a \"great fact;\" and that\nit is so, we have mainly to thank Edwin Chadwick--the missionary of the\nSanitary idea. It is true he was eventually dismissed from his position\nof influence at the Board of Health,--partly through spleen, but chiefly\nbecause of his own unaccommodating nature,--unaccommodating especially\nto petty local authorities and individual interests opposed to the\npublic good. But with all thinking and impartial men, his character\nstands as high as it ever did. At all events, his _works_ remain.\n\nWe do not know a more striking instance than that presented by this\ngentleman's career, of the large amount of good which a man strongly\npossessed by a beneficent idea can accomplish, provided he have only the\nforce of purpose and perseverance to follow it up. Though Mr. Chadwick\nhas not been an actual legislator, he has nevertheless been the mover of\nmore wise measures than any legislator of our time. He created a public\nopinion in favour of sanitary reform. He has also impressed the minds of\nbenevolent individuals with the necessity for providing improved\ndwellings for the people; and has thus been the indirect means of\nestablishing the Peabody Dwellings, the Baroness Coutts' Dwellings, and\nthe various Societies for erecting improved dwellings for the industrial\nclasses.\n\nEdwin Chadwick has thus proved himself to be one of the most useful and\npractical of public benefactors. He deserves to be ranked with Clarkson\nor Howard. His labours have been equally salutary; some will say that\nthey have been much more so in their results.\n\nSanitary science may be summed up in the one word--Cleanliness. Pure\nwater and pure air are its essentials. Wherever there is impurity, it\nmust be washed away and got rid of. Thus sanitary science is one of the\nsimplest and most intelligible of all the branches of human knowledge.\nPerhaps it is because of this, that, like most common things, it has\ncontinued to receive so little attention. Many still think that it\nrequires no science at all to ventilate a chamber, to clean out a drain,\nand to keep house and person free from uncleanness.\n\nSanitary science may be regarded as an unsavoury subject. It deals with\ndirt and its expulsion--from the skin, from the house, from the street,\nfrom the city. It is comprised in the words--wherever there is dirt, get\nrid of it instantly; and with cleanliness let there be a copious supply\nof pure water and of pure air for the purposes of human health.\n\nTake, for instance, an unhealthy street, or block of streets, in a large\ntown. There you find typhus fever constantly present. Cleanse and sewer\nthe street; supply it with pure air and pure water, and fever is\nforthwith banished. Is not this a much more satisfactory result than the\napplication of drugs? Fifty thousand persons, says Mr. Lee, annually\nfall victims to typhus fever in Great Britain, originated by causes\nwhich are preventible. The result is the same as if these fifty thousand\npersons were annually taken out of their wretched dwellings, and put to\ndeath! We are shocked by the news of a murder--by the loss of a single\nlife by physical causes! And yet we hear, almost without a shudder, the\nreiterated statement of the loss of tens of thousands of lives yearly\nfrom physical causes in daily operation. The annual slaughter from\npreventible causes of typhus fever is double the amount of what was\nsuffered by the allied armies at the battle of Waterloo! By neglect of\nthe ascertained conditions of healthful living, the great mass of the\npeople lose nearly half the natural period of their lives. \"Typhus,\"\nsays a medical officer, \"is a curse which man inflicts upon himself by\nthe neglect of sanitary arrangements.\"\n\nMr. Chadwick affirmed that in the cellars of Liverpool, Manchester, and\nLeeds, he had seen amongst the operatives more vice, misery, and\ndegradation than those which, when detailed by Howard, had excited the\nsympathy of the world. The Irish poor sink into the unhealthy closes,\nlanes, and back streets of large towns; and so frequent are the attacks\nof typhus among them, that in some parts of the country the disease is\nknown as \"the Irish fever.\" It is not merely the loss of life that is so\nfrightful; there is also the moral death that is still more appalling in\nthese unhealthy localities. Vice and crime consort with foul living. In\nthese places, demoralization is the normal state. There is an absence of\ncleanliness, of decency, of decorum; the language used is polluting, and\nscenes of profligacy are of almost hourly occurrence,--all tending to\nfoster idleness, drunkenness, and vicious abandonment. Imagine such a\nmoral atmosphere for women and children!\n\nThe connection is close and intimate between physical and moral health,\nbetween domestic well-being and public happiness. The destructive\ninfluence of an unwholesome dwelling propagates a moral typhus worse\nthan the plague itself. Where the body is enfeebled by the depressing\ninfluences of vitiated air and bodily defilement, the mind, almost of\nnecessity, takes the same low, unhealthy tone. Self-respect is lost; a\nstupid, inert, languid feeling overpowers the system; the character\nbecomes depraved; and too often--eager to snatch even a momentary\nenjoyment, to feel the blood bounding in the veins,--the miserable\nvictim flies to the demon of strong drink for relief; hence misery,\ninfamy, shame, crime, and wretchedness.\n\nThis neglect of the conditions of daily health is a frightfully costly\nthing. It costs the rich a great deal of money in the shape of\npoor-rates, for the support of widows made husbandless, and children\nmade fatherless, by typhus. It costs them also a great deal in disease;\nfor the fever often spreads from the dwellings of the poor into the\nhomes of the rich, and carries away father, mother, or children. It\ncosts a great deal in subscriptions to maintain dispensaries,\ninfirmaries, houses of recovery, and asylums for the destitute. It costs\nthe poor still more; it costs them their health, which is their only\ncapital. In this is invested their all: if they lose it, their docket is\nstruck, and they are bankrupt. How frightful is the neglect, whether it\nbe on the part of society or of individuals, which robs the poor man of\nhis health, and makes his life a daily death!\n\nWhy, then, is not sanitary science universally adopted and enforced? We\nfear it is mainly through indifference and laziness. The local\nauthorities--municipalities and boards of guardians--are so many Mrs.\nMaclartys in their way. Like that dirty matron, they \"canna be fashed.\"\nTo remove the materials of disease requires industry, constant\nattention, and--what is far more serious--increased rates. The foul\ninterests hold their ground, and bid defiance to the attacks made upon\nthem. Things did very well, they say, in \"the good old times,\"--why\nshould they not do so now? When typhus or cholera breaks out, they tell\nus that Nobody is to blame.\n\nThat terrible Nobody! How much he has to answer for. More mischief is\ndone by Nobody than by all the world besides. Nobody adulterates our\nfood. Nobody poisons us with bad drink. Nobody supplies us with foul\nwater. Nobody spreads fever in blind alleys and unswept lanes. Nobody\nleaves towns undrained. Nobody fills gaols, penitentiaries, and convict\nstations. Nobody makes poachers, thieves, and drunkards.\n\nNobody has a theory too--a dreadful theory. It is embodied in two\nwords--_Laissez faire_--Let alone. When people are poisoned by plaster\nof Paris mixed with flour, \"Let alone\" is the remedy. When _Cocculus\nindicus_ is used instead of hops, and men die prematurely, it is easy to\nsay, \"Nobody did it.\" Let those who can, find out when they are cheated:\n_Caveat emptor_. When people live in foul dwellings, let them alone. Let\nwretchedness do its work; do not interfere with death.\n\n\"It matters nothing to me,\" said a rich man who heard of a poor woman\nand her sick child being driven forth from a town for begging. The\nworkhouse authorities would have nothing to do with her, and sent her\naway. But the poor woman went and sat down with her child at the rich\nman's door; the child died there; the contagion of typhus was wafted\ninto the gilded saloon and the luxurious bed-chamber and the rich man's\nchild fell a victim to the disease.\n\nBut Nobody has considerably less power in society than he once had: and\nour hope is, that he may ultimately follow in the wake of Old Bogie, and\ndisappear altogether. Wherever there is suffering and social depression,\nwe may depend upon it that Somebody is to blame. The responsibility\nrests somewhere; and if we allow it to remain, it rests with us. We may\nnot be able to cope with the evil as individuals, single-handed; but it\nbecomes us to unite, and bring to bear upon the evil the joint moral\npower of society in the form of a law. A Law is but the expression of a\ncombined will; and it does that for society, which society, in its\nindividual and separate action, cannot so well or efficiently do for\nitself. Laws may do too much; they may meddle with things which ought to\nbe \"let alone;\" but the abuse of a thing is no proper argument against\nits use, in cases where its employment is urgently called for.\n\nMere improvement of towns, however,--as respects drainage, sewerage,\npaving, water supply, and abolition of cellar dwellings,--will effect\ncomparatively little, unless we can succeed in carrying the improvement\nfurther,--namely, into the Homes of the people themselves. A\nwell-devised system of sanitary measures may ensure external\ncleanliness,--may provide that the soil on which the streets of houses\nare built shall be relieved of all superfluous moisture, and that all\nanimal and vegetable refuse shall be promptly removed,--so that the air\ncirculating through the streets, and floating from them into the houses\nof the inhabitants, shall not be laden with poisonous miasmata, the\nsource of disease, suffering, and untimely death. Cellar dwellings may\nbe prohibited, and certain regulations as to the buildings hereafter to\nbe erected may also be enforced. But here municipal or parochial\nauthority stops: it can go no further; it cannot penetrate into the\nHome, and it is not necessary that it should do so.\n\nThe individual efforts of the community themselves are therefore needed;\nand any legislative enactments which dispensed with these would probably\nbe an evil. The Government does not build the houses in which the people\ndwell. These are provided by employers and by capitalists, small and\nlarge. It is necessary, therefore, to enlist these interests in the\ncause of sanitary improvement, in order to ensure success.\n\nIndividual capitalists have already done much to provide wholesome\nhouses for their working people, and have found their account in so\ndoing, by their increased health, as well as in their moral improvement\nin all ways. Capitalists imbued with a benevolent and philanthropic\nspirit can thus spread blessings far and wide. And were a few\nenterprising builders in every town to take up this question\npractically, and provide a class of houses for workpeople, with suitable\naccommodation; provided with arrangements for ventilation, cleanliness,\nand separation of the sexes, such as health and comfort require; they\nwould really be conferring an amount of benefit on the community at\nlarge, and, at the same time, we believe, upon themselves, which it\nwould not be easy to overestimate.\n\nBut there also needs the active co-operation of the dwellers in poor\nmen's homes themselves. They, too, must join cordially in the sanitary\nmovement; otherwise comparatively little good can be effected. You may\nprovide an efficient water supply, yet, if the housewife will not use\nthe water as it ought to be used,--if she be lazy and dirty,--the house\nwill be foul and comfortless still. You may provide for ventilation,\nyet, if offensive matters be not removed, and doors and windows are kept\nclosed, the pure outer air will be excluded, and the house will still\nsmell fusty and unwholesome. In any case, there must be a cleanly woman\nto superintend the affairs of the house; and she cannot be made so by\nAct of Parliament! The Sanitary Commissioners cannot, by any\n\"Notification,\" convert the slatternly shrew into a tidy housewife, nor\nthe disorderly drunkard into an industrious, home-loving husband. There\nmust, therefore, be individual effort on the part of the housewife in\nevery working man's Home. As a recent writer on Home Reform observes,--\n\n\"We must begin by insisting that, however much of the physical and moral\nevils of the working classes may be justly attributable to their\ndwellings, it is too often the case that more ought, in truth, to be\nattributed to themselves. For, surely, the inmate depends less on the\nhouse, than the house on the inmate; as mind has more power over matter\nthan matter over mind. Let a dwelling be ever so poor and incommodious,\nyet a family with decent and cleanly habits will contrive to make the\nbest of it, and will take care that there shall be nothing offensive in\nit which they have power to remove. Whereas a model house, fitted up\nwith every convenience and comfort which modern science can supply,\nwill, if occupied by persons of intemperate and uncleanly habits,\nspeedily become a disgrace and a nuisance. A sober, industrious, and\ncleanly couple will impart an air of decency and respectability to the\npoorest dwelling; while the spendthrift, the drunkard, or the gambler\nwill convert a palace into a scene of discomfort and disgust. Since,\ntherefore, so much depends on the character and conduct of the parties\nthemselves, it is right that they should feel their responsibility in\nthis matter, and that they should know and attend to the various points\nconnected with the improvement of their own Homes.\"\n\nWhile this important truth should be kept steadily in view, every\npossible exertion ought, at the same time, to be made to provide a\ngreater abundance of comfortable, decent, and comely dwellings for the\nworking classes; for it is to be lamented that, in many districts, they\nare, as it were, forced by the necessities of their condition to\ngravitate into localities, and to inhabit dwellings where decency is\nrendered almost impossible, where life becomes a slow dying, and where\nthe influences operating on the entire human energies, physical and\nmoral, are of the most deleterious character.\n\nHomes are the manufactories of men, and as the Homes are, so will the\nmen be. Mind will be degraded by the physical influences around\nit,--decency will be destroyed by constant contact with impurity and\ndefilement,--and coarseness of manners, habits, and tastes, will become\ninevitable. You cannot rear a kindly nature, sensitive against evil,\ncareful of proprieties, and desirous of moral and intellectual\nimprovement, amidst the darkness, dampness, disorder, and discomfort\nwhich unhappily characterize so large a portion of the dwellings of the\npoor in our large towns; and until we can, by some means or other,\nimprove their domestic accommodation, their low moral and social\ncondition must be regarded as inevitable.\n\nWe want not only a better class of dwellings, but we require the people\nto be so educated as to appreciate them. An Irish landlord took his\ntenantry out of their mud huts, and removed them into comfortable\ndwellings which he had built for their accommodation. When he returned\nto his estate, he was greatly disappointed. The houses were as untidy\nand uncomfortable as before. The pig was still under the bed, and the\nhens over it. The concrete floor was as dirty as the mud one had been.\nThe panes of the windows were broken, and the garden was full of weeds.\nThe landlord wrote to a friend in despair. The friend replied, \"You have\nbegun at the wrong end. You ought to have taught them the value of\ncleanliness, thriftiness, and comfort.\" To begin at the beginning,\ntherefore, we must teach the people the necessity of cleanliness, its\nvirtues and its wholesomeness; for which purpose it is requisite that\nthey should be intelligent, capable of understanding ideas conveyed in\nwords, able to discern, able to read, able to think. In short, the\npeople, as children, must first have been to school, and properly taught\nthere; whereas we have allowed the majority of the working people to\ngrow up untaught, nearly half of them unable to read and write; and then\nwe expect them to display the virtues, prudence, judgment, and\nforethought of well-educated beings!\n\nIt is of the first importance to teach people cleanly habits. This can\nbe done without teaching them either reading or writing. Cleanliness is\nmore than wholesomeness. It furnishes an atmosphere of self-respect, and\ninfluences the moral condition of the entire household. It is the best\nexponent of the spirit of Thrift. It is to the economy of the household,\nwhat hygiene is to the human body. It should preside at every detail of\ndomestic service. It indicates comfort and well-being. It is among the\ndistinctive attributes of civilisation, and marks the progress of\nnations.\n\nDr. Paley was accustomed to direct the particular attention of\ntravellers in foreign countries to the condition of the people as\nrespects cleanliness, and the local provisions for the prevention of\npollution. He was of opinion that a greater insight might thus be\nobtained into their habits of decency, self-respect, and industry, and\ninto their moral and social condition generally, than from facts of any\nother description. People are cleanly in proportion as they are decent,\nindustrious, and self-respecting. Unclean people are uncivilized. The\ndirty classes of great towns are invariably the \"dangerous classes\" of\nthose towns. And if we would civilize the classes yet uncivilized, we\nmust banish dirt from amongst them.\n\nYet dirt forms no part of our nature. It is a parasite, feeding upon\nhuman life, and destroying it. It is hideous and disgusting. There can\nbe no beauty where it is. The prettiest woman is made repulsive by it.\nChildren are made fretful, impatient, and bad-tempered by it. Men are\ndegraded and made reckless by it. There is little modesty where dirt\nis,--for dirty is indecency. There can be little purity of mind where\nthe person is impure; for the body is the temple of the soul, and must\nbe cleansed and purified to be worthy of the shrine within. Dirt has an\naffinity with self-indulgence and drunkenness. The sanitary inquirers\nhave clearly made out that the dirty classes are the drunken classes;\nand that they are prone to seek, in the stupefaction of beer, gin, and\nopium, a refuge from the miserable depression caused by the foul\nconditions in which they live.\n\nWe need scarcely refer to the moral as well as the physical beauty of\ncleanliness--cleanliness which indicates self-respect, and is the root\nof many fine virtues--and especially of purity, delicacy, and decency.\nWe might even go farther, and say that purity of thought and feeling\nresult from habitual purity of body. For the mind and heart of man are,\nto a very great extent, influenced by external conditions and\ncircumstances; and habit and custom, as regards outward things, stamp\nthemselves deeply on the whole character,--alike upon the moral feelings\nand the intellectual powers.\n\nMoses was the most practical of sanitary reformers. Among the eastern\nnations generally, cleanliness is a part of religion. They esteem it not\nonly as next to godliness, but as a part of godliness itself. They\nconnect the idea of internal sanctity with that of external\npurification. They feel that it would be an insult to the Maker they\nworship to come into His presence covered with impurity. Hence the\nMahommedans devote almost as much care to the erection of baths, as to\nthat of mosques; and alongside the place of worship is usually found the\nplace of cleansing, so that the faithful may have the ready means of\npurification previous to their act of worship.\n\n\"What worship,\" says a great writer, \"is there not in mere washing!\nperhaps one of the most moral things a man, in common cases, has it in\nhis power to do. Strip thyself, go into the bath, or were it into the\nlimpid pool of a running brook, and there wash and be clean; thou wilt\nstep out again a purer and a better man. This consciousness of perfect\nouter pureness--that to thy skin there now adheres no foreign speck of\nimperfection--how it radiates on thee, with cunning symbolic influences\nto thy very soul! thou hast an increased tendency towards all good\nthings whatsoever. The oldest eastern sages, with joy and holy\ngratitude, had felt it to be so, and that it was the Maker's gift and\nwill.\"\n\nThe common well-being of men, women, and children depends upon attention\nto what at first sight may appear comparatively trivial matters. And\nunless these small matters be attended to, comfort in person, mind, and\nfeeling is absolutely impossible. The physical satisfaction of a child,\nfor example, depends upon attention to its feeding, clothing, and\nwashing. These are the commonest of common things, and yet they are of\nthe most essential importance. If the child is not properly fed and\nclothed, it will grow up feeble and ill-conditioned. And as the child\nis, so will the man be.\n\nGrown people cannot be comfortable without regular attention to these\ncommon matters. Every one needs, and ought to have, comfort at home; and\ncomfort is the united product of cleanliness, thrift, regularity,\nindustry,--in short, a continuous performance of duties, each in itself\napparently trivial. The cooking of a potato, the baking of a loaf, the\nmending of a shirt, the darning of a pair of stockings, the making of a\nbed, the scrubbing of a floor, the washing and dressing of a baby, are\nall matters of no great moment; but a woman ought to know how to do\nthese, before the management of a household, however poor, is entrusted\nto her.\n\n\"Why,\" asked Lord Ashburton in a lecture to the students of the Wolvesey\ntraining-schools, \"why was one mother of a family a better economist\nthan another? Why could one live in abundance where another starved?\nWhy, in similar dwellings, were the children of one parent healthy, of\nanother puny and ailing? Why could this labourer do with ease a task\nthat would kill his fellow? It was not luck nor chance that decided\nthose differences; it was the patient observation of nature that\nsuggested to some gifted minds rules for their guidance which had\nescaped the heedlessness of others.\"\n\nIt is not so much, however, the patient observation of nature, as good\ntraining in the home and in the school, that enables some women to\naccomplish so much more than others, in the development of human beings,\nand the promotion of human comfort. And to do this efficiently, women as\nwell as men require to be instructed as to the nature of the objects\nupon which they work.\n\nTake one branch of science as an illustration--the physiological. In\nthis science we hold that every woman should receive some instruction.\nAnd why? Because, if the laws of physiology were understood by women,\nchildren would grow up into better, healthier, happier, and probably\nwiser, men and women. Children are subject to certain physiological\nlaws, the observance of which is necessary for their health and comfort.\nIs it not reasonable, therefore, to expect that women should know\nsomething of those laws, and of their operation? If they are ignorant of\nthem they will be liable to commit all sorts of blunders, productive of\nsuffering, disease, and death. To what are we to attribute the frightful\nmortality of children in most of our large towns--where one-half of all\nthat are born perish before they reach their fifth year? If women, as\nwell as men, knew something of the laws of healthy living, about the\nnature of the atmosphere, how its free action upon the blood is\nnecessary to health--of the laws of ventilation, cleanliness, and\nnutrition,--we cannot but think that the moral, not less than the\nphysical condition of the human beings committed to their charge, would\nbe greatly improved and promoted.\n\nWere anything like a proper attention given to common things, there\nwould not be such an amount of discomfort, disease, and mortality\namongst the young. But we accustom people to act as if there were no\nsuch provisions as natural laws. If we violate them, we do not escape\nthe consequences because we have been ignorant of their mode of\noperation. We have been provided with intelligence that we might _know_\nthem; and if society keep its members blind and ignorant, the evil\nconsequences are inevitably reaped. Thus tens of thousands perish for\nlack of knowledge of even the smallest, and yet most necessary\nconditions of right living.\n\nWomen have also need to be taught the important art of domestic economy.\nIf they do not earn the family income, at least they have to spend the\nmoney earned; and their instruction ought to have a view to the spending\nof that money wisely. For this purpose, a knowledge of arithmetic is\nabsolutely necessary. Some may say, \"What use can a woman have for\narithmetic?\" But when men marry, they soon find this out. If the woman\nwho has a household to manage be innocent of addition and\nmultiplication; and if she fail to keep a record of her income or\nexpenditure, she will, before long, find herself in great trouble. She\nwill find that she cannot make the ends meet, and then run into debt. If\nshe spend too much on dress, she will have too little for food or\neducation. She will commit extravagances in one direction or another,\nand thus subject her household to great discomfort. She may also bring\nher husband into trouble through the debts she has contracted, and make\na beginning of his misfortunes and sometimes of his ruin.\n\nMuch might be said in favour of household management, and especially in\nfavour of improved cookery. Ill-cooked meals is a source of discomfort\nin many families. Bad cooking is waste,--waste of money and loss of\ncomfort. Whom God has joined in matrimony, ill-cooked joints and\nill-boiled potatoes have very often put asunder. Among the \"common\nthings\" which educators should teach the rising generation, this ought\ncertainly not to be overlooked. It is the commonest and yet most\nneglected of the branches of female education.\n\nThe greater part of human labour is occupied in the direct production of\nthe materials for human food. The farming classes and their labourers\ndevote themselves to the planting, rearing, and reaping of oats and\nother cereals; and the grazing farmer to the production of cattle and\nsheep, for the maintenance of the population at large. All these\narticles--corn, beef, mutton, and such-like--are handed over to the\nfemale half of the human species to be converted into food, for the\nsustenance of themselves, their husbands, and their families. How do\nthey use their power? Can they cook? Have they been taught to cook? Is\nit not a fact that, in this country, cooking is one of the lost or\nundiscovered arts?\n\nThousands of artizans and labourers are deprived of half the actual\nnutriment of their food, and continue half-starved, because their wives\nare utterly ignorant of the art of cooking. They are yet in entire\ndarkness as to the economizing of food, and the means of rendering it\npalatable and digestible.\n\nEven the middle classes are badly served in this respect. \"If we could\nsee,\" says a public writer, \"by the help of an Asmodeus, what is going\non at the dinner hour of the humbler of the middle class,--what a\nspectacle of discomfort, waste, ill-temper, and consequent ill-conduct\nit would be! The man quarrels with his wife because there is nothing he\ncan eat, and he generally makes up in drink for the deficiencies in the\narticle of food. There is thus not only the direct waste of food and\ndetriment to health, but the further consequent waste of the use of\nspirits, with its injury to the habits and the health.\"\n\nOn the other hand, people who eat well, drink moderately; the\nsatisfaction of the appetite dispensing with the necessity for resorting\nto stimulants. Good humour too, and good health, follow a good meal; and\nby a good meal we mean anything, however simple, well dressed in its\nway. A rich man may live very expensively and very ill; and a poor man\nmay live frugally and very well, if it be his good fortune to have a\ngood cook in his wife or in his servant.\n\nThe most worthless unit in a family is an ill-managing wife, or an\nindolent woman of any sort. The fair sex are sometimes very acute in\nwhat concerns themselves. They keep a tight hand over their dressmakers\nand milliners. They can tell to a thread when a flounce is too narrow or\na tuck too deep. But if their knowledge only extends to their own dress,\nthey are not help-meets, but incumbrances. If they know nothing of their\nkitchen, and are at the mercy of the cook, their table will soon become\nintolerable. Bad soup, soft and flabby fish, meat burnt outside and raw\nwithin. The husband will soon fly from the Barmecide feast, and take\nrefuge in his club, where he will not only find food that he can digest,\nbut at the same time fly from the domestic discord that usually\naccompanies ill-cooked victuals at home.\n\nMr. Smee says that \"diseases of the digestive organs greatly exceed in\nEngland the relative number found in other countries.\" The reason is,\nthat in no other country do men eat so much ill-cooked food. The least\nobservant of travellers must have been struck with admiration at the\nreadiness with which a dinner of eight or ten dishes of various eatables\nmakes its appearance in foreign inns; particularly when he remembers the\nperpetual mutton chop and mashed potatoes of the English road. The\nauthor remembers arriving at a roadside inn, in a remote part of\nDauphiny, immediately under the foot of the Pic du Midi. On looking at\nthe clay floor, and the worn state of the furniture, he remarked to his\nfriend, \"Surely we can get no dinner here.\" \"Wait till you see,\" was his\nanswer. In about half-an-hour, the table (though propped up) was spread\nwith a clean table-cloth; and successive dishes of soup, fowl,\n\"ros-bif,\" pomme-de-terre frite, French beans, with wholesome bread and\nbutter, made their appearance. In the principal inns of most provincial\ntowns in England, it would not have been possible to obtain such a\ndinner.\n\nGreat would be the gain to the community if cookery were made an\nordinary branch of female education. To the poor, the gain would be\nincalculable. \"Among the prizes which the Bountifuls of both sexes are\nfond of bestowing in the country, we should like to see some offered for\nthe best boiled potato, the best grilled mutton chop, and the best\nseasoned hotch-potch, soup, or broth. In writing of a well-boiled\npotato, we are aware that we shall incur the contempt of many for\nattaching importance to a thing they suppose to be so common. But the\nfact is, that their contempt arises, as is often the origin of contempt,\nfrom their ignorance--there being not one person in a hundred who has\never seen and tasted that great rarity--a well-boiled potato.\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: _Examiner_.]\n\nIn short, we want common sense in cookery, as in most other things. Food\nshould be used, and not abused. Much of it is now absolutely wasted,\nwasted for want of a little art in cooking it. Food is not only wasted\nby bad cooking; but much of it is thrown away which French women would\nconvert into something savoury and digestible. Health, morals, and\nfamily enjoyments, are all connected with the question of cookery. Above\nall, it is the handmaid of Thrift. It makes the most and the best of the\nbounties of God. It wastes nothing, but turns everything to account.\nEvery Englishwoman, whether gentle or simple, ought to be accomplished\nin an art which confers so much comfort, health, and wealth upon the\nmembers of her household.\n\n\"It appears to me,\" said Mrs. Margaretta Grey, \"that with an increase of\nwealth unequally distributed, and a pressure of population, there has\nsprung up amongst us a spurious refinement, that cramps the energy and\ncircumscribes the usefulness of women in the upper class of society. A\nlady, to be such, must be a lady, and nothing else.... Ladies dismissed\nfrom the dairy, the confectionery, the store-room, the still-room, the\npoultry-yard, the kitchen-garden, and the orchard\" [she might have\nadded, the spinning-wheel], \"have hardly yet found for themselves a\nsphere equally useful and important in the pursuits of trade and art, to\nwhich to apply their too abundant leisure.\n\n\"When, at any time, has society presented, on the one hand, so large an\narray of respectably educated individuals, embarrassed for want of a\nproper calling, and, on the other, so ponderous a multitude of\nuntrained, neglected poor, who cannot, without help, rise out of their\nmisery and degradation? What an obstruction to usefulness and all\neminence of character is that of being too rich, or too genteelly\nconnected, to work at anything!\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: _Memoir of John Grey, of Dalston_. p. 290.]\n\nMany intelligent, high-minded ladies, who have felt disgusted at the\nidleness to which \"society\" condemns them, have of late years undertaken\nthe work of visiting the poor and of nursing--a noble work. But there is\nanother school of usefulness which stands open to them. Let them study\nthe art of common cookery, and diffuse the knowledge of it amongst the\npeople. They will thus do an immense amount of good; and bring down the\nblessings of many a half-hungered husband upon their benevolent heads.\nWomen of the poorer classes require much help from those who are better\neducated, or who have been placed in better circumstances than\nthemselves. The greater number of them marry young, and suddenly enter\nupon a life for which they have not received the slightest preparation.\nThey know nothing of cookery, of sewing or clothes mending, or of\neconomical ways of spending their husbands' money. Hence slatternly and\nuntidy habits, and uncomfortable homes, from which the husband is often\nglad to seek refuge in the nearest public-house. The following story,\ntold by Joseph Corbett, a Birmingham operative, before a Parliamentary\nCommittee, holds true of many working people in the manufacturing\ndistricts.\n\n\"My mother,\" he said, \"worked in a manufactory from a very early age.\nShe was clever and industrious, and, moreover, she had the reputation of\nbeing virtuous. She was regarded as an excellent match for a working\nman. She was married early. She became the mother of eleven children: I\nam the eldest. To the best of her ability she performed the important\nduties of a wife and mother. But she was lamentably deficient in\ndomestic knowledge. In that most important of all human instruction--how\nto make the home and the fireside to possess a charm for her husband and\nchildren--she had never received one single lesson. She had children\napace. As she recovered from her lying-in, so she went to work, the babe\nbeing brought to her at stated times to receive nourishment. As the\nfamily increased, so everything like comfort disappeared altogether. The\npower to make home cheerful and comfortable was never given to her. She\nknew not the value of cherishing in my father's mind a love of domestic\nobjects. Not one moment's happiness did I ever see under my father's\nroof. All this dismal state of things I can distinctly trace to the\nentire and perfect absence of all training and instruction to my mother.\nHe became intemperate; and his intemperance made her necessitous. She\nmade many efforts to abstain from shop-work; but her pecuniary\nnecessities forced her back into the shop. The family was large; and\nevery moment was required at home. I have known her, after the close of\na hard day's work, sit up nearly all night for several nights together\nwashing and mending clothes. My father could have no comfort there.\nThese domestic obligations, which in a well-regulated house (even in\nthat of a working man, where there are prudence and good management)\nwould be done so as not to annoy the husband, were to my father a sort\nof annoyance; and he, from an ignorant and mistaken notion, sought\ncomfort in an alehouse. My mother's ignorance of household duties; my\nfather's consequent irritability and intemperance; the frightful\npoverty; the constant quarrelling; the pernicious example to my brothers\nand sisters; the bad effect upon the future conduct of my brothers,--one\nand all of us being forced out to work so young that our feeble earnings\nwould produce only 1_s_. a week,--cold and hunger, and the innumerable\nsufferings of my childhood, crowd upon my mind and overpower me. They\nkeep alive a deep anxiety for the emancipation of thousands of families\nin this great town (Birmingham) and neighbourhood, who are in a similar\nstate of horrible misery. My own experience tells me that the\ninstruction of the females in the work of a house, in teaching them to\nproduce cheerfulness and comfort at the fireside, would prevent a great\namount of misery and crime. There would be fewer drunken husbands and\ndisobedient children. As a working man, within my own observation,\nfemale education is disgracefully neglected. I attach more importance to\nit than to anything else; for woman imparts the first impressions to the\nyoung susceptible mind; she models the child from which is formed the\nfuture man.\"\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI.\n\nTHE ART OF LIVING.\n\n\n\"Deem no man, in any age,\nGentle for his lineage.\nThough he be not highly born,\nHe is gentle if he doth\nWhat 'longeth to a gentleman.\"--_Chaucer_.\n\n\"Every one is the son of his own work.\"--_Cervantes_.\n\n\"Serve a noble disposition, though poor; the time comes that he will\nrepay thee.\"--_George Herbert_.\n\n\"Although men are accused for not knowing their own weakness, yet\nperhaps as few know their own strength. It is in men as in soils, where\nsometimes there is a vein of gold, which the owner knows not\nof.\"--_Swift_.\n\n\"Let not what I cannot have\nMy cheer of mind destroy.\"--_Cibber_.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nThe Art of Living deserves a place among the Fine Arts. Like Literature,\nit may be ranked with the Humanities. It is the art of turning the means\nof living to the best account,--of making the best of everything. It is\nthe art of extracting from life its highest enjoyment, and, through it,\nof reaching its highest results.\n\nTo live happily, the exercise of no small degree of art is required.\nLike poetry and painting, the art of living comes chiefly by nature; but\nall can cultivate and develop it. It can be fostered by parents and\nteachers, and perfected by self-culture. Without intelligence, it cannot\nexist.\n\nHappiness is not, like a large and beautiful gem, so uncommon and rare,\nthat all search for it is vain, all efforts to obtain it hopeless; but\nit consists of a series of smaller and commoner gems, grouped and set\ntogether, forming a pleasing and graceful whole. Happiness consists in\nthe enjoyment of little pleasures scattered along the common path of\nlife, which, in the eager search for some great and exciting joy, we are\napt to overlook. It finds delight in the performance of common duties,\nfaithfully and honourably fulfilled.\n\nThe art of living is abundantly exemplified in actual life. Take two men\nof equal means,--one of whom knows the art of living, and the other not.\nThe one has the seeing-eye and the intelligent mind. Nature is ever new\nto him, and full of beauty. He can live in the present, rehearse the\npast, or anticipate the glory of the future. With him, life has a deep\nmeaning, and requires the performance of duties which are satisfactory\nto his conscience, and are therefore pleasurable. He improves himself,\nacts upon his age, helps to elevate the depressed classes, and is active\nin every good work. His hand is never tired, his mind is never weary. He\ngoes through life joyfully, helping others to its enjoyment.\nIntelligence, ever expanding, gives him every day fresh insight into men\nand things. He lays down his life full of honour and blessing, and his\ngreatest monument is the good deeds he has done, and the beneficent\nexample he has set before his fellow-creatures.\n\nThe other has comparatively little pleasure in life. He has scarcely\nreached manhood, ere he has exhausted its enjoyments. Money has done\neverything that it could for him. Yet he feels life to be vacant and\ncheerless. Travelling does him no good; for, for him history has no\nmeaning. He is only alive to the impositions of innkeepers and couriers,\nand the disagreeableness of travelling for days amidst great mountains,\namong peasants and sheep, cramped up in a carriage. Picture galleries he\nfeels to be a bore, and he looks into them because other people do.\nThese \"pleasures\" soon tire him, and he becomes _blas\u00e9_. When he grows\nold, and has run the round of fashionable dissipations, and there is\nnothing left which he can relish, life becomes a masquerade, in which he\nrecognizes only knaves, hypocrites, and flatterers. Though he does not\nenjoy life, yet he is terrified to leave it. Then the curtain falls.\nWith all his wealth, life has been to him a failure, for he has not\nknown the Art of Living, without which life cannot be enjoyed.\n\nIt is not wealth that gives the true zest to life,--but reflection,\nappreciation, taste, culture. Above all, the seeing eye and the feeling\nheart are indispensable. With these, the humblest lot may be made blest.\nLabour and toil may be associated with the highest thoughts and the\npurest tastes. The lot of labour may thus become elevated and ennobled.\nMontaigne observes that \"all moral philosophy is as applicable to a\nvulgar and private life as to the most splendid. Every man carries the\nentire form of the human condition within him.\"\n\nEven in material comfort, good taste is a real economist, as well as an\nenhancer of joy. Scarcely have you passed the doorstep of your friend's\nhouse, when you can detect whether taste presides within it or not.\nThere is an air of neatness, order, arrangement, grace, and refinement,\nthat gives a thrill of pleasure, though you cannot define it, or explain\nhow it is. There is a flower in the window, or a picture against the\nwall, that marks the home of taste. A bird sings at the window-sill;\nbooks lie about; and the furniture, though common, is tidy, suitable,\nand, it may be, even elegant.\n\nThe art of living extends to all the economies of the household. It\nselects wholesome food, and serves it with taste. There is no profusion;\nthe fare may be very humble, but it has a savour about it; everything is\nso clean and neat, the water so sparkles in the glass, that you do not\ndesire richer viands, or a more exciting beverage. Look into another\nhouse, and you will see profusion enough, without either taste or order.\nThe expenditure is larger, and yet you do not feel \"at home\" there. The\natmosphere seems to be full of discomfort. Books, hats, shawls, and\nstockings in course of repair, are strewn about. Two or three chairs are\nloaded with goods. The rooms are hugger-mugger. No matter how much money\nis spent, it does not mend matters. Taste is wanting, for the manager of\nthe household has not yet learnt the Art of Living.\n\nYou see the same contrast in cottage life. The lot of poverty is\nsweetened by taste. It selects the healthiest, openest neighbourhood,\nwhere the air is pure and the streets are clean. You see, at a glance,\nby the sanded doorstep, and the window-panes without a speck,--perhaps\nblooming roses or geraniums shining through them,--that the tenant\nwithin, however poor, knows the art of making the best of his lot. How\ndifferent from the foul cottage-dwellings you see elsewhere; with the\ndirty children playing in the gutters; the slattern-like women lounging\nby the door-cheek; and the air of sullen poverty that seems to pervade\nthe place. And yet the weekly income in the former home may be no\ngreater, perhaps even less, than in that of the other.\n\nHow is it, that of two men, working in the same field or in the same\nshop, one is merry as a lark,--always cheerful, well-clad, and as clean\nas his work will allow him to be,--comes out on Sunday mornings in his\nbest suit, to go to church with his family,--is never without a penny in\nhis purse, and has something besides in the savings bank,--is a reader\nof books and a subscriber to a newspaper, besides taking in some\nliterary journal for family reading; whilst the other man, with equal or\neven superior weekly wages, comes to work in the mornings sour and\nsad,--is always full of grumbling,--is badly clad and badly shod,--is\nnever seen out of his house on Sundays till about midday, when he\nappears in his shirt-sleeves, his face unwashed, his hair unkempt, his\neyes bleared and bloodshot,--his children left to run about the gutters,\nwith no one apparently to care for them,--is always at his last coin,\nexcept on Saturday night, and then he has a long score of borrowings to\nrepay,--belongs to no club, has nothing saved, but lives literally from\nhand to mouth,--reads none, thinks none, but only toils, eats, drinks,\nand sleeps;--why is it that there is so remarkable a difference between\nthese two men?\n\nSimply for this reason,--that the one has the intelligence and the art\nto extract joy and happiness from life,--to be happy himself, and to\nmake those about him happy; whereas the other has not cultivated his\nintelligence, and knows nothing whatever of the art of either making\nhimself or his family happy. With the one, life is a scene of loving,\nhelping, and sympathizing,--of carefulness, forethought, and\ncalculation--of reflection, action, and duty;--with the other, it is\nonly a rough scramble for meat and drink; duty is not thought of,\nreflection is banished, prudent forethought is never for a moment\nentertained.\n\nBut look to the result; the former is respected by his fellow-workmen\nand beloved by his family,--he is an example of well-being and\nwell-doing to all who are within reach of his influence; whereas the\nother is as unreflective and miserable, as nature will allow him to\nbe,--he is shunned by good men,--his family are afraid at the sound of\nhis footsteps, his wife perhaps trembling at his approach,--he dies\nwithout leaving any regrets behind him, except, it may be, on the part\nof his family, who are left to be maintained by the charity of the\npublic, or by the pittance doled out by the overseers.\n\nFor these reasons, it is worth every man's while to study the important\nArt of living happily. Even the poorest man may by this means extract an\nincreased amount of joy and blessing from life. The world need not be \"a\nvale of tears,\" unless we ourselves will it to be so. We have the\ncommand, to a great extent, over our own lot. At all events, our mind is\nour own possession; we can cherish happy thoughts there; we can regulate\nand control our tempers and dispositions to a considerable extent; we\ncan educate ourselves, and bring out the better part of our nature,\nwhich in most men is allowed to sleep a deep sleep; we can read good\nbooks, cherish pure thoughts, and lead lives of peace, temperance, and\nvirtue, so as to secure the respect of good men, and transmit the\nblessing of a faithful example to our successors.\n\nThe Art of Living is best exhibited in the Home. The first condition of\na happy home, where good influences prevail over bad ones, is Comfort.\nWhere there are carking cares, querulousness, untidiness, slovenliness,\nand dirt, there can be little comfort either for man or woman. The\nhusband who has been working all day, expects to have something as a\ncompensation for his toil. The least that his wife can do for him, is to\nmake his house snug, clean, and tidy, against his home-coming at eve.\nThat is the truest economy--the best housekeeping--the worthiest\ndomestic management--which makes the home so pleasant and agreeable,\nthat a man feels when approaching it, that he is about to enter a\nsanctuary; and that, when there, there is no alehouse attraction that\ncan draw him away from it.\n\nSome say that we worship Comfort too much. The word is essentially\nEnglish, and is said to be untranslateable, in its full meaning, into\nany foreign language. It is intimately connected with the Fireside. In\nwarmer climes, people contrive to live out of doors. They sun themselves\nin the streets. Half their life is in public. The genial air woos them\nforth, and keeps them abroad. They enter their houses merely to eat and\nsleep. They can scarcely be said to _live_ there.\n\nHow different is it with us! The raw air without, during so many months\nof the year, drives us within doors. Hence we cultivate all manner of\nhome pleasures. Hence the host of delightful associations which rise up\nin the mind at the mention of the word Home. Hence our household god,\nComfort.\n\nWe are not satisfied merely with a home. It must be comfortable. The\nmost wretched, indeed, are those who have no homes--the homeless! But\nnot less wretched are those whose homes are without comfort--those of\nwhom Charles Lamb once said, \"The homes of the very poor are no homes.\"\nIt is Comfort, then, that is the soul of the home--its essential\nprinciple--its vital element.\n\nComfort does not mean merely warmth, good furniture, good eating and\ndrinking. It means something higher than this. It means cleanliness,\npure air, order, frugality,--in a word, house-thrift and domestic\ngovernment. Comfort is the soil in which the human being grows,--not\nonly physically, but morally. Comfort lies, indeed, at the root of many\nvirtues.\n\nWealth is not necessary for comfort. Luxury requires wealth, but not\ncomfort. A poor man's home, moderately supplied with the necessaries of\nlife, presided over by a cleanly, frugal housewife, may contain all the\nelements of comfortable living. Comfortlessness is for the most part\ncaused, not so much by the absence of sufficient means, as by the\nabsence of the requisite knowledge of domestic management.\n\nComfort, it must be admitted, is in a great measure _relative_. What is\ncomfort to one man, would be misery to another. Even the commonest\nmechanic of this day would consider it miserable to live after the style\nof the nobles a few centuries ago; to sleep on straw beds, and live in\nrooms littered with rushes. William the Conqueror had neither a shirt to\nhis back, nor a pane of glass to his windows. Queen Elizabeth was one of\nthe first to wear silk stockings. The Queens before her were\nstockingless.\n\nComfort depends as much on persons as on \"things.\" It is out of the\ncharacter and temper of those who govern homes, that the feeling of\ncomfort arises, much more than out of handsome furniture, heated rooms,\nor household luxuries and conveniences.\n\nComfortable people are kindly-tempered. Good temper may be set down as\nan invariable condition of comfort. There must be peace, mutual\nforbearance, mutual help, and a disposition to make the best of\neverything. \"Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled\nox and hatred therewith.\"\n\nComfortable people are persons of common sense, discretion, prudence,\nand economy. They have a natural affinity for honesty and justice,\ngoodness and truth. They do not run into debt,--for that is a species of\ndishonesty. They live within their means, and lay by something for a\nrainy day. They provide for the things of their own household,--yet they\nare not wanting in hospitality and benevolence on fitting occasions. And\nwhat they do, is done without ostentation.\n\nComfortable people do everything in order. They are systematic, steady,\nsober, industrious. They dress comfortably. They adapt themselves to the\nseason,--neither shivering in winter, nor perspiring in summer. They do\nnot toil after a \"fashionable appearance.\" They expend more on warm\nstockings than on gold rings; and prefer healthy, good bedding, to gaudy\nwindow-curtains. Their chairs are solid, not gimcrack. They will bear\nsitting upon, though they may not be ornamental.\n\nThe organization of the home depends for the most part upon woman. She\nis necessarily the manager of every family and household. How much,\ntherefore, must depend upon her intelligent co-operation! Man's life\nrevolves round woman. She is the sun of his social system. She is the\nqueen of domestic life. The comfort of every home mainly depends upon\nher,--upon her character, her temper, her power of organization, and her\nbusiness management. A man may be economical; but unless there be\neconomy at home, his frugality will be comparatively useless. \"A man\ncannot thrive,\" the proverb says, \"unless his wife let him.\"\n\nHouse-thrift is homely, but beneficent. Though unseen of the world, it\nmakes many people happy. It works upon individuals; and by elevating\nthem, it elevates society itself. It is in fact a receipt of infallible\nefficacy, for conferring the greatest possible happiness upon the\ngreatest possible number. Without it legislation, benevolence, and\nphilanthropy are mere palliatives, sometimes worse than useless, because\nthey hold out hopes which are for the most part disappointed.\n\nHow happy does a man go forth to his labour or his business, and how\ndoubly happy does he return from it, when he knows that his means are\ncarefully husbanded and wisely applied by a judicious and well-managing\nwife. Such a woman is not only a power in her own house, but her example\ngoes forth amongst her neighbours, and she stands before them as a model\nand a pattern. The habits of her children are formed after her habits:\nher actual life becomes the model after which they unconsciously mould\nthemselves; for example always speaks more eloquently than words: it is\ninstruction in action--wisdom at work.\n\nFirst amongst woman's qualities is the intelligent use of her hands and\nfingers. Every one knows how useful, how indispensable to the comfort of\na household, is the tidy, managing, handy woman. Pestalozzi, with his\nusual sagacity, has observed, that half the education of a woman comes\nthrough her fingers. There are wisdom and virtue at her finger-ends. But\nintellect must also accompany thrift: they must go hand in hand. A woman\nmust not only be clever with her fingers, but possessed of the power of\norganizing household work.\n\nThere must be Method. The late Sir Arthur Helps observed, that \"as women\nare at present educated, they are for the most part thoroughly deficient\nin _method_. But this surely might be remedied by training. To take a\nvery humble and simple instance. Why is it that a man-cook is always\nbetter than a woman-cook? Simply because a man is more methodical in his\narrangements, and relies more upon his weights and measures. An eminent\nphysician told me that he thought women were absolutely deficient in the\nappreciation of time. But this I hold to be merely one instance of their\ngeneral want of accuracy, for which there are easy remedies: that is,\neasy if begun early enough.\"\n\nAccordingly, to manage a household efficiently, there must be Method.\nWithout this, work cannot be got through satisfactorily either in\noffices, workshops, or households. By arranging work properly, by doing\neverything at the right time, with a view to the economy of labour, a\nlarge amount of business can be accomplished. Muddle flies before\nmethod; and hugger-mugger disappears. There is also a method in\nspending--in laying out money,--which is as valuable to the housewife,\nas method is in accomplishing her work. Money slips through the fingers\nof some people like quicksilver. We have already seen that many men are\nspendthrifts. But many women are the same. At least they do not know how\nto expend their husband's earnings to the best advantage. You observe\nthings very much out of place--frills and ruffles and ill-darned\nstockings--fine bonnets and clouted shoes--silk gowns and dirty\npetticoats; while the husband goes about ragged and torn, with scarcely\na clean thing about him.\n\nIndustry is of course essential. This is the soul of business; but,\nwithout method, industry will be less productive. Industry may sometimes\nlook like confusion. But the methodical and industrious woman gets\nthrough her work in a quiet, steady style,--without fuss, or noise, or\ndust-clouds.\n\nPrudence is another important household qualification. Prudence comes\nfrom cultivated judgment: it means practical wisdom. It has reference to\nfitness, to propriety; it judges of the right thing to be done, and of\nthe right way of doing it. It calculates the means, order, time, and\nmethod of doing. Prudence learns much from experience, quickened by\nknowledge.\n\nPunctuality is another eminently household qualification. How many\ngrumblings would be avoided in domestic life, by a little more attention\nbeing paid to this virtue. Late breakfasts and late dinners,--\"too late\"\nfor church and market,--\"cleanings\" out of time, and \"washings\"\nprotracted till midnight,--bills put off with a \"call again\nto-morrow,\"--engagements and promises unfulfilled,--what a host of\nlittle nuisances spring to mind, at thought of the unpunctual housewife!\nThe unpunctual woman, like the unpunctual man, becomes disliked, because\nshe consumes our time, interferes with our plans, causes uneasy\nfeelings, and virtually tells us that we are not of sufficient\nimportance to cause her to be more punctual. To the business man, time\nis money, and to the business woman it is more,--it is peace, comfort,\nand domestic prosperity.\n\nPerseverance is another good household habit. Lay down a good plan, and\nadhere to it. Do not be turned from it without a sufficient reason.\nFollow it diligently and faithfully, and it will yield fruits in good\nseason. If the plan be a prudent one, based on practical wisdom, a ll\nthings will gravitate towards it, and a mutual dependence will gradually\nbe established among all the parts of the domestic system.\n\nWe might furnish numerous practical illustrations of the truth of these\nremarks, but our space is nearly filled up, and we must leave the reader\nto supply them from his or her own experience.\n\nThere are many other illustrations which might be adduced, of the art of\nmaking life happy. The management of the temper is an art full of\nbeneficent results. By kindness, cheerfulness, and forbearance, we can\nbe happy almost at will; and at the same time spread happiness about us\non every side. We can encourage happy thoughts in ourselves and others.\nWe can be sober in habit. What can a wife and her children think of an\nintemperate husband and father? We can be sober in language, and shun\ncursing and swearing--the most useless, unmeaning, and brutal of\nvulgarities. Nothing can be so silly and unmeaning--not to say shocking,\nrepulsive, and sinful--as the oaths so common in the mouths of vulgar\nswearers. They are profanation without purpose--impiety without\nprovocation--blasphemy without excuse.\n\nThis leads us to remark, in passing, that in this country we are not\nsufficiently instructed in the Art of Good Manners. We are rather gruff,\nand sometimes unapproachable. Manners do _not_ make the man, as the\nproverb alleges; but manners make the man much more agreeable. A man may\nbe noble in his heart, true in his dealings, virtuous in his conduct,\nand yet unmannerly. Suavity of disposition and gentleness of manners\ngive the finish to the true gentleman.\n\nBy Good Manners we do not mean Etiquette. This is only a conventional\nset of rules adopted by what is called \"good society;\" and many of the\nrules of etiquette are of the essence of rudeness. Etiquette does not\npermit genteel people to recognize in the streets a man with a shabby\ncoat though he be their brother. Etiquette is a liar in its \"not at\nhome,\"--ordered to be told by servants to callers at inconvenient\nseasons.\n\nGood manners include many requisites; but they chiefly consist in\npoliteness, courtesy, and kindness. They cannot be taught by rule, but\nthey may be taught by example. It has been said that politeness is the\nart of showing men, by external signs, the internal regard we have for\nthem. But a man may be perfectly polite to another, without necessarily\nhaving any regard for him. Good manners are neither more nor less than\nbeautiful behaviour. It has been well said that \"a beautiful form is\nbetter than a beautiful face, and a beautiful behaviour is better than a\nbeautiful form; it gives a higher pleasure than statues or pictures; it\nis the finest of the fine arts.\"\n\nManner is the ornament of action; indeed a good action, without a good\nmanner of doing it, is stripped of half its value. A poor fellow gets\ninto difficulties, and solicits help of a friend. He obtains it, but it\nis with a \"_There_-take that; but I don't like lending.\" The help is\ngiven with a kind of kick, and is scarcely accepted as a favour. The\nmanner of the giving long rankles in the mind of the acceptor. Thus good\nmanners mean kind manners,--benevolence being the preponderating element\nin all kinds of pleasant intercourse between human beings.\n\nA story is told of a poor soldier having one day called at the shop of a\nhairdresser, who was busy with his customers, and asked relief,--stating\nthat he had stayed beyond his leave of absence, and unless he could get\na lift on the coach, fatigue and severe punishment awaited him. The\nhairdresser listened to his story respectfully, and gave him a guinea.\n\"God bless you, sir!\" exclaimed the soldier, astonished at the amount.\n\"How can I repay you? I have nothing in the world but this\"--pulling out\na dirty piece of paper from his pocket; \"it is a receipt for making\nblacking; it is the best that was ever seen; many a half-guinea I have\nhad for it from the officers, and many bottles I have sold; may you be\nable to get something for it to repay you for your kindness to the poor\nsoldier.\" Oddly enough, that dirty piece of paper proved worth half a\nmillion of money to the hairdresser. It was no less than the receipt for\nthe famous Day and Martin's blacking; the hairdresser being the late\nwealthy Mr. Day, whose manufactory is one of the notabilities of the\nmetropolis.\n\nGood manners have been supposed to be a peculiar mark of gentility, and\nthat the individual exhibiting them has been born in some upper class of\nsociety. But the poorest classes may exhibit good manners towards each\nother, as well as the richest. One may be polite and kind towards\nothers, without a penny in the purse. Politeness goes very far; yet it\ncosts nothing. It is the cheapest of commodities. But we want to be\ntaught good manners, as well as other things. Some happy natures are \"to\nthe manner born.\" But the bulk of men need to be taught manners, and\nthis can only be efficiently done in youth.\n\nWe have said that working men might study good manners with advantage.\nWhy should they not respect themselves and each other? It is by their\ndemeanour towards each other--in other words, by their manners--that\nself-respect and mutual respect are indicated. We have been struck by\nthe habitual politeness of even the poorest classes on the Continent.\nThe workman lifts his cap and respectfully salutes his fellow-workman in\npassing. There is no sacrifice of manliness in this, but rather grace\nand dignity. The working man, in respecting his fellow, respects himself\nand his order. There is kindness in the act of recognition, as well as\nin the manner in which it is denoted.\n\nWe might learn much from the French people in this matter. They are not\nonly polite to each other, but they have a greater respect for property.\nSome may be disposed to doubt this, after the recent destruction of\nbuildings in Paris. But the Communists must be regarded as altogether\nexceptional people; and to understand the French character, we must look\nto the body of the population scattered throughout France. There we find\nproperty much more respected by the people than amongst ourselves. Even\nthe beggar respects the fruit by the roadside, although there is nobody\nto protect it. The reason of this is, that France is a nation of small\nproprietors,--that property is much more generally diffused and\nexposed,--and parents of even the lowest class educate their children in\ncarefulness of and fidelity to the property of others.\n\nThis respect for property is also accompanied with that respect for the\nfeelings of others, which constitutes what is called Good Manners. This\nis carefully inculcated in the children of all ranks in France. They are\nvery rarely rude. They are civil to strangers. They are civil to each\nother. Mr. Laing, in his \"Notes of a Traveller,\" makes these remarks:\n\"This deference to the feelings of others in all that we do is a moral\nhabit of great value when it is generally diffused, and enters into the\nhome training of every family. It is an education both of the parent and\nchild in morals, carried on through the medium of external manners....\nIt is a fine distinction of the French national character, and of social\neconomy, that practical morality is more generally taught through\nmanners, among and by the people themselves, than in any country in\nEurope.\"[1]\n\n[Footnote 1: SAMUEL LAING--_Notes of Traveller, on the Social and\nPolitical State of France, Prussia, Switzerland, Italy, and other Parts\nof Europe_, p. 55.]\n\nThe same kindly feeling might be observed throughout the entire social\nintercourse of working men with each other. There is not a moment in\ntheir lives in which the opportunity does not occur for exhibiting good\nmanners--in the workshop, in the street, and at home. Provided there be\na wish to please others by kind looks and ways, the habit of combining\ngood manners with every action will soon be formed. It is not merely the\npleasure a man gives to others by being kind to them: he receives\ntenfold more pleasure himself. The man who gets up and offers his chair\nto a woman, or to an old man--trivial though the act may seem,--is\nrewarded by his own heart, and a thrill of pleasure runs through him the\nmoment he has performed the kindness.\n\nWorkpeople need to practise good manners towards each other the more,\nbecause they are under the necessity of constantly living with each\nother and amongst each other. They are in constant contact with their\nfellow-workmen, whereas the richer classes need not mix with men unless\nthey choose, and then they can select whom they like. The working man's\nhappiness depends much more upon the kind looks, words, and acts of\nthose immediately about him, than the rich man's does. It is so in the\nworkshop, and it is the same at home. There the workman cannot retire\ninto his study, but must sit amongst his family, by the side of his\nwife, with his children about him. And he must either live kindly with\nthem--performing kind and obliging acts towards his family,--or he must\nsee, suffer, and endure the intolerable misery of reciprocal unkindness.\n\nAdmitted that there are difficulties in the way of working men\ncultivating the art of good manners--that their circumstances are often\nvery limited, and their position unfavourable, yet no man is so poor but\nthat he can be civil and kind, if he choose; and to be civil and kind is\nthe very essence of good manners. Even in the most adverse circumstances\na man may try to do his best. If he do--if he speak and act courteously\nand kindly to all,--the result will be so satisfactory, so\nself-rewarding, that he cannot but be stimulated to persevere in the\nsame course. He will diffuse pleasure about him in the home, make\nfriends of his work-fellows, and be regarded with increased kindness and\nrespect by every right-minded employer. The civil workman will exercise\nincreased power amongst his class, and gradually induce them to imitate\nhim by his persistent steadiness, civility, and kindness. Thus Benjamin\nFranklin, when a workman, reformed the habits of an entire workshop.\n\nThen, besides the general pleasure arising from the exercise of Good\nManners, there is a great deal of healthful and innocent pleasure to be\nderived from amusements of various kinds. One cannot be always working,\neating, and sleeping. There must be time for relaxation--time for mental\npleasures--time for bodily exercise.\n\nThere is a profound meaning in the word Amusement; much more than most\npeople are disposed to admit. In fact, amusement is an important part of\neducation. It is a mistake to suppose that the boy or the man who plays\nat some outdoor game is wasting his time. Amusement of any kind is not\nwasting time, but economizing life.\n\nRelax and exercise frequently, if you would enjoy good health. If you do\nnot relax, and take no exercise, the results will soon appear in bodily\nailments, which always accompany sedentary occupations. \"The students,\"\nsays Lord Derby, \"who think they have not time for bodily exercise, will\nsooner or later find time for illness.\"\n\nThere are people in the world who would, if they had the power, hang the\nheavens about with crape; throw a shroud over the beautiful and\nlife-giving bosom of the planet; pick the bright stars from the sky;\nveil the sun with clouds; pluck the silver moon from her place in the\nfirmament; shut up our gardens and fields, and all the flowers with\nwhich they are bedecked; and doom the world to an atmosphere of gloom\nand cheerlessness. There is no reason nor morality in this, and there is\nstill less religion.\n\nA benevolent Creator has endowed man with an eminent capacity for\nenjoyment,--has set him in a fair and lovely world, surrounded him with\nthings good and beautiful,--and given him the disposition to love, to\nsympathize, to help, to produce, to enjoy; and thus to become an\nhonourable and a happy being, bringing God's work to perfection, and\nenjoying the divine creation in the midst of which he lives.\n\nMake a man happy, and his actions will be happy too; doom him to dismal\nthoughts and miserable circumstances, and you will make him gloomy,\ndiscontented, morose, and probably vicious. Hence coarseness and crime\nare almost invariably found amongst those who have never been accustomed\nto be cheerful, whose hearts have been shut against the purifying\ninfluences of a happy communion with nature, or an enlightened and\ncheerful intercourse with man.\n\nMan has a strong natural appetite for relaxation and amusement, and,\nlike all other natural appetites, it has been implanted for a wise\npurpose. It cannot be repressed, but will break out in one form or\nanother. Any well-directed attempt to promote an innocent amusement, is\nworth a dozen sermons against pernicious ones. If we do not provide the\nopportunity for enjoying wholesome pleasures, men will certainly find\nout vicious ones for themselves. Sydney Smith truly said, \"In order to\nattack vice with effect, we must set up something better in its place.\"\n\nTemperance reformers have not sufficiently considered how much the\ndrinking habits of the country are the consequences of gross tastes, and\nof the too limited opportunities which exist in this country for\nobtaining access to amusements of an innocent and improving tendency.\nThe workman's tastes have been allowed to remain uncultivated; present\nwants engross his thoughts; the gratification of his appetites is his\nhighest pleasure; and when he relaxes, it is to indulge immoderately in\nbeer or whisky. The Germans were at one time the drunkenest of nations;\nthey are now amongst the soberest. \"As drunken as a German boor,\" was a\ncommon proverb. How have they been weaned from drink? Principally by\nEducation and Music.\n\nMusic has a most humanizing effect. The cultivation of the art has a\nmost favourable influence upon public morals. It furnishes a source of\npleasure in every family. It gives home a new attraction. It makes\nsocial intercourse more cheerful. Father Mathew followed up his\nTemperance movement by a Singing movement. He promoted the establishment\nof musical clubs all over Ireland: for he felt that, as he had taken the\npeople's whisky from them, he must give them some wholesome stimulus in\nits stead. He gave them Music. Singing classes were established, to\nrefine the taste, soften the manners, and humanize the mass of the Irish\npeople. But we fear that the example set by Father Mathew has already\nbeen forgotten.\n\n\"What a fulness of enjoyment,\" says Channing, \"has our Creator placed\nwithin our reach, by surrounding us with an atmosphere which may be\nshaped into sweet sounds! And yet this goodness is almost lost upon us,\nthrough want of culture of the organ by which this provision is to be\nenjoyed.\"\n\nHow much would the general cultivation of the gift of music improve us\nas a people! Children ought to learn it in schools, as they do in\nGermany. The voice of music would then be heard in every household. Our\nold English glees would no longer be forgotten. Men and women might sing\nin the intervals of their work,--as the Germans do in going to and\ncoming from their wars. The work would not be worse done, because it was\ndone amidst music and cheerfulness. The breath of society would be\nsweetened, and pleasure would be linked with labour.\n\nWhy not have some elegance in even the humblest home? We must of course\nhave cleanliness, which is the special elegance of the poor. But why not\nhave pleasant and delightful things to look upon? There is no reason why\nthe humbler classes should not surround themselves with the evidences of\nbeauty and comfort in all their shapes, and thus do homage alike to the\ngifts of God and the labours of man. The taste for the beautiful is one\nof the best and most useful endowments. It is one of the handmaids of\ncivilization. Beauty and elegance do not necessarily belong to the homes\nof the rich. They are, or ought to be, all-pervading. Beauty in all\nthings,--in nature, in art, in science, in literature, in social and\ndomestic life.\n\nHow beautiful and yet how cheap are flowers. Not exotics,--but what are\ncalled common flowers. A rose, for instance, is among the most beautiful\nof the smiles of nature. The \"laughing flowers,\" exclaims the poet! But\nthere is more than gaiety in blooming flowers, though it takes a wise\nman to see the beauty, the love, and the adaptation, of which they are\nfull.\n\nWhat should we think of one who had _invented_ flowers; supposing that,\nbefore him, flowers were unknown? Would he not be regarded as the\nopener-up of a paradise of new delight? should we not hail the inventor\nas a genius, as a god? And yet these lovely offsprings of the earth have\nbeen speaking to man from the first dawn of his existence until now,\ntelling him of the goodness and wisdom of the Creative Power, which bade\nthe earth bring forth, not only that which was useful as food,--but also\nflowers, the bright consummate flowers, to clothe it in beauty and joy!\n\nBring one of the commonest field-flowers into a room, place it on a\ntable or chimneypiece, and you seem to have brought a ray of sunshine\ninto the place. There is a cheerfulness about flowers. What a delight\nare they to the drooping invalid! They are like a sweet draught of\nenjoyment, coming as messengers from the country, and seeming to say,\n\"Come and see the place where we grow, and let your heart be glad in our\npresence.\"\n\nWhat can be more innocent than flowers! They are like children undimmed\nby sin. They are emblems of purity and truth, a source of fresh delight\nto the pure and innocent. The heart that does not love flowers, or the\nvoice of a playful child, cannot be genial. It was a beautiful conceit\nthat invented a language of flowers, by which lovers were enabled to\nexpress the feelings that they dared not openly speak. But flowers have\na voice for all,--old and young, rich and poor. \"To me,\" says\nWordsworth,\n\n\"The meanest flower that blows can give\nThoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.\"\n\nHave a flower in the room, by all means! It will cost only a penny, if\nyour ambition is moderate; and the gratification it gives will be beyond\nprice. If you can have a flower for your window so much the better. What\ncan be more delicious than the sun's light streaming through\nflowers--through the midst of crimson fuchsias or scarlet geraniums? To\nlook out into the light through flowers--is not that poetry? And to\nbreak the force of the sunbeams by the tender resistance of green\nleaves? If you can train a nasturtium round the window, or some sweet\npeas, then you will have the most beautiful frame you can invent for the\npicture without, whether it be the busy crowd, or a distant landscape,\nor trees with their lights and shades, or the changes of the passing\nclouds. Any one may thus look through flowers for the price of an old\nsong. And what pure taste and refinement does it not indicate on the\npart of the cultivator! A flower in the window sweetens the air, makes\nthe room look graceful, gives the sun's light a new charm, rejoices the\neye, and links nature with beauty. The flower is a companion that will\nnever say a cross thing to any one, but will always look beautiful and\nsmiling. Do not despise it because it is cheap, and because everybody\nmay have the luxury as well as yourself. Common things are cheap, but\ncommon things are invariably the most valuable. Could we only have fresh\nair or sunshine by purchase, what luxuries they would be considered; but\nthey are free to all, and we think little of their blessings.\n\nThere is, indeed, much in nature that we do not yet half enjoy, because\nwe shut our avenues of sensation and feeling. We are satisfied with the\nmatter of fact, and look not for the spirit of fact, which is above it.\nIf we opened our minds to enjoyment, we might find tranquil pleasures\nspread about us on every side. We might live with the angels that visit\nus on every sunbeam, and sit with the fairies who wait on every flower.\nWe want more loving knowledge to enable us to enjoy life, and we require\nto cultivate the art of making the most of the common means and\nappliances for enjoyment, which lie about us on every side.\n\nA snug and a clean home, no matter how tiny it be, so that it be\nwholesome; windows into which the sun can shine cheerily; a few good\nbooks (and who need be without a few good books in these days of\nuniversal cheapness?)--no duns at the door, and the cupboard well\nsupplied, and with a flower in your room! There is none so poor as not\nto have about him these elements of pleasure.\n\nBut why not, besides the beauty of Nature, have a taste for the beauty\nof Art? Why not hang up a picture in the room? Ingenious methods have\nbeen discovered--some of them quite recently--for almost infinitely\nmultiplying works of art, by means of wood engravings, lithographs,\nphotographs, and autotypes, which render it possible for every person to\nfurnish his rooms with beautiful pictures. Skill and science have thus\nbrought Art within reach of the poorest.\n\nAny picture, print, or engraving, that represents a noble thought, that\ndepicts a heroic act, or that brings a bit of nature from the fields or\nthe streets into our room, is a teacher, a means of education, and a\nhelp to self-culture. It serves to make the home more pleasant and\nattractive. It sweetens domestic life, and sheds a grace and beauty\nabout it. It draws the gazer away from mere considerations of self, and\nincreases his store of delightful associations with the world without,\nas well as with the world within.\n\nThe portrait of a great man, for instance, helps us to read his life. It\ninvests him with a personal interest. Looking at his features, we feel\nas if we knew him better, and were more closely related to him. Such a\nportrait, hung up before us daily, at our meals and during our leisure\nhours, unconsciously serves to lift us up and sustain us. It is a link\nthat in some way binds us to a higher and nobler nature.\n\nIt is said of a Catholic money-lender that when about to cheat, he was\nwont to draw a veil over the face of his favourite saint. Thus the\nportraiture of a great and virtuous man is in some measure a\ncompanionship of something better than ourselves; and though we may not\nreach the standard of the hero, we may to a certain extent be influenced\nby his likeness on our walls.\n\nIt is not necessary that a picture should be high-priced in order to be\nbeautiful and good. We have seen things for which hundreds of guineas\nhave been paid, that have not one-hundredth part of the meaning or\nbeauty that is to be found in Linton's woodcut of Rafaelle's Madonna,\nwhich may be had for twopence. The head reminds one of the observation\nmade by Hazlitt upon a picture, that it seems as if an unhandsome act\nwould be impossible in its presence. It embodies the ideas of mother's\nlove, womanly beauty, and earnest piety. As some one said of the\npicture: \"It looks as if a bit of Heaven were in the room.\"\n\nPicture-fanciers pay not so much for the merit, as for the age and the\nrarity of their works. The poorest may have the _seeing eye_ for beauty,\nwhile the rich man may be blind to it. The cheapest engraving may\ncommunicate the sense of beauty to the artizan, while the\nthousand-guinea picture may fail to communicate to the millionaire\nanything,--excepting perhaps the notion that he has got possession of a\nwork which the means of other people cannot compass.\n\nDoes the picture give you pleasure on looking at it? That is one good\ntest of its worth. You may grow tired of it; your taste may outgrow it,\nand demand something better, just as the reader may grow out of\nMontgomery's poetry into Milton's. Then you will take down the daub, and\nput up a picture with a higher idea in its place. There may thus be a\nsteady progress of art made upon the room walls. If the pictures can be\nput in frames, so much the better; but if they cannot, no matter; up\nwith them! We know that Owen Jones says it is not good taste to hang\nprints upon walls--he would merely hang room papers there. But Owen\nJones may not be infallible; and here we think he is wrong. To our eyes,\na room always looks unfurnished, no matter how costly and numerous the\ntables, chairs, and ottomans, unless there be pictures upon the walls.\n\nIt ought to be, and no doubt it is, a great stimulus to artists to know\nthat their works are now distributed in prints and engravings, to\ndecorate and beautify the homes of the people. The wood-cutter, the\nlithographer, and the engraver, are the popular interpreters of the\ngreat artist. Thus Turner's pictures are not confined to the wealthy\npossessors of the original works, but may be diffused through all homes\nby the Millars, and Brandards, and Wilmotts, who have engraved them.\nThus Landseer finds entrance, through woodcuts and mezzotints, into\nevery dwelling. Thus Cruikshank preaches temperance, and Ary Scheffer\npurity and piety. The engraver is the medium by which art in the palace\nis conveyed into the humblest homes in the kingdom.\n\nThe Art of Living may be displayed in many ways. It may be summed up in\nthe words,--Make the best of everything. Nothing is beneath its care;\neven common and little things it turns to account. It gives a brightness\nand grace to the home, and invests Nature with new charms. Through it,\nwe enjoy the rich man's parks and woods, as if they were our own. We\ninhale the common air, and bask under the universal sunshine. We glory\nin the grass, the passing clouds, and the flowers. We love the common\nearth, and hear joyful voices through all Nature. It extends to every\nkind of social intercourse. It engenders cheerful goodwill and loving\nsincerity. By its help we make others happy, and ourselves blest. We\nelevate our being and ennoble our lot. We rise above the grovelling\ncreatures of earth, and aspire to the Infinite. And thus we link time to\neternity; where the true Art of Living has its final consummation.\n\n\n\n\nINDEX.\n\n\nABERDARE, Lord, on loss by strikes\nAdvancement of self is advancement of society\nAiton, Dr., an example of thrift\nAkroyd, Edward, founds Provident Society and Penny Savings Bank\n  and his workpeople\n  and Penny Banks\nAmbition, use of\nAmusement, meaning and use of\nArithmetic, necessary for domestic economy\nAshburton, Lord, on home economy\nAshworth, Messrs., and their workpeople\nAuthor's mother, an example of thrift\nAvarice, differs from economy\n\n\nBACON, on limits of economy\n  his improvidence\nBargain-buying, bad economy of\nBaxendale, Joseph\n  on punctuality\n  and Pickford and Co.\n  and railways\n  his maxims\nBewick, the engraver\nBilston Savings Bank\nBrassey. T., on English work-men\nBrewster, D., on education\nBriggs and Son, and co-operation\nBright, John, on the wages of the working classes\nBrutus, and usury\nBuchan, Earl of, an example of thrift\nBuilding Societies\n  at Birmingham\n  at Leeds\n  at Padiham\n  at Burnley\nBurnley, Building Society at\nBurns, and debt\nByron, and debt\n\n\nCAMPBELL, Dr., the missionary\nCanova, humble origin of\nCapital, the result of industry and thrift\n  advantage of, to workmen employed\nCarlyle, T., on manufacturers\n  his letter to Whitworth\n  on public charities\nCarrington, Lord, and Pitt\nCato, the elder, and usury\nChadwick, Edwin, sketch of his life\n  his Sanitary Idea\n  and Poor Law Inquiry\n  and the Sanitary Movement\n  and General Board of Health\n  on thriftlessness\nChantrey, F.\nCharities, public\nChristianity, its establishment\nCivilization, and thrift\n  slow progress of\n  and healthy homes\nClass, exclusiveness of\nCleanliness, must be taught\nCobbett, W., on Savings Banks\nCobden, R., on self-help\nCold, the parent of frugality\nComfort, and the art of living\nCompetition, use of\nCooking, good and bad\nCo-operation, the secret of social development\n  and the middle classes\n  and working classes\n  Fishery\n  tin-mining\n  at Hull\n  at Leeds\n  at Rochdale\n  at Over Darwen\n  at Northampton\n  at Padiham, Manchester, Birmingham, Leeds\n  and life assurance\n  and friendly societies\n  and factories\nCorbett, J., on ignorance of domestic economy\nCrallan, and lessons on thrift\nCrossley, Francis, and Halifax Park\nCrossley, John, sketch of his life\n  his wife\n  his work\n\n\nDANTZIC, Duke of\nDavis, John, on debt\nDebt, evils of\n  sympathy with\n  and great men\nDebtors, celebrated, Bacon, Pitt\n  Melville, Fox\n  Sheridan\n  De Retz, Mirabeau, Lamartine, Webster\n  Hunter, Vandyck\n  Hayden\n  Cowper, Marlowe, Greene, Peele\n  Lovelace, Butler, Wycherley, Fielding, Savage\n  Chatterton\n  Steele\n  Goldsmith\n  Byron\n  Foote\n  De Foe\n  Scott\nDeeds, not words\nDenison, Edward, on providence\n  on London poor\n  on thrift\n  on thrift in Guernsey\nDerby, Lord, on progress\nDerby Penny Bank\nDe Retz, Cardinal\nDirt, a degradation\nDolland, industry of\nDonne, Dr., his charity and thrift\nDonough, J., tombstone of\nDress, extravagance in\nDrill, the magic of\nDrink, money spent on\n  the Great Sin\n  and unhealthy homes\nDuncan, H., and Savings Banks\n\n\nECONOMY, _see_ Thrift\nEducation, power of\n  is capital\n  advantage of\n  in Germany\nElcho, Lord, on miners' wages\nElegance at home\nElliot, Sir G., and miners\nEngland, one hundred years ago\nEnglish charities\nEnglish workmanship\nEnglishmen, industry and improvidence of\nExtravagance, prevalence of\n\n\nFAILURE, self-sought\nFarnham Penny Bank\nFast living, tendency to\nFelkin, on workmen's savings\nFerguson Charity, the\nFerguson, the astronomer\nFlaxman, the sculptor\nFlowers, use of\nFoote, and debt\nForster, W.E., on Lister\nFox, Head, and Co., and cooperation\nFox, C.J., and debt\nFranklin, B., on thrift of time\n  on self-imposed taxes\n  his industry\nFriendly societies\n  defects of\n  working of\n  objections to\n  improvement of\nFunerals, extravagance of\n\n\nGENEROSITY, and economy\nGirard Charity, the\nGhent, School Bank at\nGibbon, on Fox\nGoethe, on individualism\nGoldsmith, O., and debt\nGood manners, art of\n  among working classes\nGood taste, economy of\n  and comfort\nGrey, Margaretta, on occupation of ladies\nGreenock Penny Bank\nGreg, W.B., on savings of working classes\nGregory, O., on self-taught working men\nGriffiths, on pursuit of money\nGrundy, Mrs., fear of\nGuizot, on English Charities\nGuy's Hospital\n\n\nHALIFAX PENNY BANK\nHappiness in old age\nHealth, pleasures of, 315; injuries\n  to. 316-7\nHeriot's Hospital, 309\nHerschel, his industry. 77\nHill, Rowland, and Savings\n  Banks, 149-50\nHogarth. 80\nHome and civilization. 321; and\n  children. 322; ignorance\n  concerning, 323-4; reform,\n  340-1\nHuddersfield Savings Bank, 154\nHull Anti-Mill Society, 102\nHume, H., and thrift, 68\nHume, J., on tone of living, 17\nHunter, J., and debt, 269\nHutton, Dr., 73\n\n\nIDLENESS, wretchedness of, 6\nIgnorance is power, 57-9\nImprovidence, _see_ Thriftlessness\nInchbald, Mrs., on thrift, 65\nIncomes of the working classes,\n  41-9\nIndependence of a good mechanic,\n  50\nIndividualism, 72-3\nIndustry, _see_ Labour\n\n\nJOHNSON, S., on economy, 19;\n  on poverty, 20; on Savage,\n  272; his poverty, 282-3; on\n  debt, 283\nJonson, B., and poverty, 271\n\n\nKEPLER, and poverty, 268\nKnowledge, acquired by labour, 6\n\n\nLABOUR, leads to wealth, 2; is\n  never lost, 3; a necessity and\n  pleasure, 4; St. Paul on, 6;\n  gives knowledge, 6; and progress,\n  7; of English workmen,\n  36; and thrift, 96, 184;\n  makes the man, 160\nLaing, S., on good manners in\n  France, 368\nLamartine and debt, 267\nLancaster, J., and Sunday schools\nLand and Building Societies\nLeeds, Industrial Society\n  Permanent Building Society\nLife assurance, advantages of\n  working of\n  at a penny a day\nLife, uncertainty of\nLister, of Bradford\nLittle things, importance of\nLiving, art of\nLoan Societies\nLough, the sculptor, sketch of his life\nLuck, means good management\n  does not make men\nLytton, Lord, on money\n  on public charities\n\n\nMACAULAY, on Pit\nMacdonald, A.\nManchester, Bishop of, on agricultural labourers\nManchester Co-operative Bank\n  Unity of Odd Fellows\nMarlborough, Duke of, his penuriousness\nMarriage, responsibility of\n  makes economy a duty\n  imprudent\nMasters, influence of\n  want of sympathy between men and\nMeans, living beyond\nMechanics' Institutes\nMelville, Lord, and debt\nMethod, a masculine quality\n  value of\nMiddle class, co-operation among\nMill, J.S., on combination\n  on dollar-hunters\nMiller, Hugh, on thrift\n  his industry\nMilton, J., and poverty\nMirabeau, and debt\nMisery, caused by greed and improvidence\n  of the man of nothing but money\nMoney, represents independence\n  mistake as to power of\n  worship of\n  accumulation of\n  dissipated by the third generation\nMontaigne, on debt\nMortality, laws of\nMoses, a sanitary reformer\n\n\nNAPIER, C., on debt\nNasmyth, J., sketch of his life\n  his active leisure\nNational prosperity is not real prosperity\nNavvy's Home, a failure\nNewman, on debt\nNightingale, F., and soldiers' savings\nNo, ability to say\nNobody to blame\nNorris, on miners\nNorthampton Co-operative Society\n\n\nORDER\nOvercrowding\nOver Darwen Co-operative Society\n\n\nPADIH AM, Co-operative Cotton-mill\n  Building Society\nPastoral life, a myth\nPeabody benefaction, the\nPenny a day, power of a\nPenny Bank, Akroyd's\n  at Greenock\n  at Halifax\n   at Glasgow\n   at Farnham\nPennies, taking care of the\nPhysiology, should be taught\nPickford and Co., _see_ Baxendale\nPictures, use of\nPitt, and debt\nPost Office Savings Banks\nPounds, John, and Ragged Schools\nPoverty, not a disgrace\n  sharpens wits\n  the skeleton in the closet\nPreston Savings Bank\nPrimogeniture, Right of, causes struggle for wealth\nProdigality, _see_ Thriftlessness\nProgress and labour\n  of individuals and nations\nProsperity, leads to greater expenditure\nPunctuality, Baxendale on\n  a household quality\n\n\nQUECKETT,on Penny Banks\nQuentin Matsys, industry of\n\n\nRAGGED SCHOOLS and Penny Banks\n  foundation of\nRamsay, Allan\nReady-money transactions\nReform of Number One\n  of home\nRepublican millionaires\nRespectability, abuse of\nRich man, the troubles of the\nRichardson, S.\nRochdale, co-operative corn-mill\n  Equitable Pioneers Society\nRoebuck, J.A., on the working classes\nRural districts, unwholesome condition of\n  ignorance in\nRussell, Lord, on self-imposed taxes\nRuthven Savings Bank\n\nSALADIN, on wealth\nSalamanca, Jose de, on love of gold\nSalt, T., sketch of his life\n  founds Saltaire\n  and his workpeople\nSaltaire\nSanitary science\nSavings Banks\n  the first\n  at Ruthven\n  used by domestic servants\n  used most where wages are lowest\n  used by soldiers\n  military\n  at Bilston\n  Penny\n  school\n  increase of\n  Post Office\n  statistics of\nSavings, _see_ Thrift\nScholarship in the School of Mines\nScotch charities\nScott, W., and debt\nSelf-help, means self-respect\nSharp, W.\nSheridan, and debt\nSikes. C.W., on thriftlessness\n  on Savings Banks\n  and Post Office Savings Banks\n  sketch of his life\nSlavery, in Britain\n  in England\n  in Scotland\nSmith, Joseph, starts a Savings Bank\nSmith, Sydney, and poverty\nSociety, living up to higher\nSocrates, on thrift\nSouthey, his industry\nSpinoza, and poverty\nSteele, R., and debt\nSteen, Jan, and debt\nStephenson, George\nSterne, and poverty\nStone, on public charities\nStrikes, losses by, 47, 98-100\nSully, Duke of, on economy, 93\nSympathy between masters and\n  men, want of, 180-83\n\nTact, want of, 95\nTassie, sculptor, 80\nTaxes, self-imposed, 39\nTaylor, J., on reputation of man\n  of money, 294\nThrift, origin and definition of,\n  1; an acquired principle, 8;\n  gives Capital, 10; is within\n  reach of all, 11-3; of time,\n  12; needs common sense. 13;\n  needs a beginning, 14; is a\n  duty, 14; in youth, 18; is\n  practical, 19; dignity of, 20;\n  in Guernsey, 35; object of,\n  65; is Order, 66; of upper\n  classes, 67; rules for, 89;\n  limits of, 90; is a dignity and\n  satisfaction, 93; is conservative,\n  107-8; and building\n  societies, 109; of Frenchmen\n  and Belgians, 115; of private\n  soldiers, 133-5; lessons\n  in, 145-6; of great generals,\n  192; of French workmen,\n  231-2; leads to Charity, 286\nThriftlessness, of savages, 2; of\n  nations, 9; of individuals, 10;\n  selfishness of, 14; dependence\n  of, 16; cruelty of, 17,112; in\n  prosperous times, 26, 30; of\n  English workmen, 36-7, 41-57,\n  91, 139\nTottenham Savings Bank, 127\nTrades Unions, 99-100\nTyphus, a preventible disease,\n  335\n\nUNCIVILIZED condition of the\n  poor, 32\n\nVENTILATION\n\n\nWAGES of working classes\nWakefield, P., and Savings Banks\nWalker, Robert\nWalpole, Horace, on bargains\nWalter, J., on pride in work\nWashington, G., and slaves\nWaterlow, S.\nWatt, James\nWealth, by labour\n  and poverty\nWellington, Duke of, on military Savings Banks\nWesley J., his account-keeping\nWhitworth, J., and co-operation\nWinckelmann\nWoman, influence of\nWomen, require to be taught physiology\n  domestic economy\n  arithmetic\n  cooking\nWorking-men, definition of\n  thriftlessness of\n  wages of\n  extravagance of\n  want of self-respect among\n  neglect opportunities\n  want knowledge\n  co-operation among\n  strikes among\n  their ability to save\n  do not much _use_ the Savings Banks\nWycherley, and debt","title":"Thrift","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":121965}