{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_475/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_475","id":"gutenberg_475","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/475","summary":null,"tags":["Agricultural colonies","Category: History - British","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Category: Sociology","Poor -- Great Britain","Salvation Army","Unemployed -- Great Britain"],"text":"Ver.04.29.93*END*\n\n\n\n\n\nIN DARKEST ENGLAND and THE WAY OUT\n\nby GENERAL BOOTH\n\n\n(this Etext comes from the 1890 1st ed. pub. The Salvation Army)\n\n\n    To the memory of the companion, counsellor, and comrade of\n    nearly 40 years.  The sharer of my every ambition for the\n    welfare of mankind, my loving, faithful, and devoted wife\n    this book is dedicated.\n\n\nPREFACE\n\nThe progress of The Salvation Army in its work amongst the poor and\nlost of many lands has compelled me to face the problems which an more\nor less hopefully considered in the following pages.  The grim\nnecessities of a huge Campaign carried on for many years against the\nevils which lie at the root of all the miseries of modern life,\nattacked in a thousand and one forms by a thousand and one lieutenants,\nhave led me step by step to contemplate as a possible solution of at\nleast some of those problems the Scheme of social Selection and\nSalvation which I have here set forth.\n\nWhen but a mere child the degradation and helpless misery of the poor\nStockingers of my native town, wandering gaunt and hunger-stricken\nthrough the streets droning out their melancholy ditties, crowding the\nUnion or toiling like galley slaves on relief works for a bare\nsubsistence kindled in my heart yearnings to help the poor which have\ncontinued to this day and which have had a powerful influence on my\nwhole life.  A last I may be going to see my longings to help the\nworkless realised.  I think I am.\n\nThe commiseration then awakened by the misery of this class has been an\nimpelling force which has never ceased to make itself felt during forty\nyears of active service in the salvation of men.  During this time I am\nthankful that I have been able, by the good hand of God upon me, to do\nsomething in mitigation of the miseries of this class, and to bring not\nonly heavenly hopes and earthly gladness to the hearts of multitudes of\nthese wretched crowds, but also many material blessings, including such\ncommonplace things as food, raiment, home, and work, the parent of so\nmany other temporal benefits.  And thus many poor creatures have proved\nGodliness to be \"profitable unto all things, having the promise of the\nlife that now is as well as of that which is to come.\"\n\nThese results have been mainly attained by spiritual means.  I have\nboldly asserted that whatever his peculiar character or circumstances\nmight be, if the prodigal would come home to his Heavenly Father, he\nwould find enough and to spare in the Father's house to supply all his\nneed both for this world and the next; and I have known thousands nay,\nI can say tens of thousands, who have literally proved this to be true,\nhaving, with little or no temporal assistance, come out of the darkest\ndepths of destitution, vice and crime, to be happy and honest citizens\nand true sons and servants of God.\n\nAnd yet all the way through my career I have keenly felt the remedial\nmeasures usually enunciated in Christian programmes and ordinarily\nemployed by Christian philanthropy to be lamentably inadequate for any\neffectual dealing with the despairing miseries of these outcast\nclasses. The rescued are appallingly few--a ghastly minority compared\nwith the multitudes who struggle and sink in the open-mouthed abyss.\nAlike, therefore, my humanity and my Christianity, if I may speak of\nthem in any way as separate one from the other, have cried out for some\nmore comprehensive method of reaching and saving the perishing crowds.\n\nNo doubt it is good for men to climb unaided out of the whirlpool on to\nthe rock of deliverance in the very presence of the temptations which\nhave hitherto mastered them, and to maintain a footing there with the\nsame billows  of temptation washing over them.  But, alas! with many\nthis seems to be literally impossible.  That decisiveness of character,\nthat moral nerve which takes hold of the rope thrown for the rescue and\nkeeps its hold amidst all the resistances that have to be encountered,\nis wanting.  It is gone.\nThe general wreck has shattered and disorganised the whole man.\n\nAlas, what multitudes there are around us everywhere, many known to my\nreaders personally, and any number who may be known to them by a very\nshort walk from their own dwellings, who are in this very plight!  Their\nvicious habits and destitute circumstances make it certain that without\nsome kind of extraordinary help, they must hunger and sin, and sin and\nhunger, until, having multiplied their kind, and filled up the measure\nof their miseries, the gaunt fingers of death will close upon then and\nterminate their wretchedness.  And all this will happen this very\nwinter in the midst of the unparalleled wealth, and civilisation, and\nphilanthropy of this professedly most Christian land.\n\nNow, I propose to go straight for these sinking classes, and in doing\nso shall continue to aim at the heart.  I still prophesy the uttermost\ndisappointment unless that citadel is reached.  In proposing to add one\nmore to the methods I have already put into operation to this end, do\nnot let it be supposed that I am the less dependent upon the old plans\nor that I seek anything short of the old conquest.  If we help the man\nit is in order that we may change him. The builder who should elaborate\nhis design and erect his house and risk his reputation without burning\nhis bricks would be pronounced a failure and a fool.  Perfection of\narchitectural beauty, unlimited expenditure of capital, unfailing\nwatchfulness of his labourers, would avail him nothing if the bricks\nwere merely unkilned clay.  Let him kindle a fire.  And so here I see\nthe folly of hoping to accomplish anything abiding, either in the\ncircumstances or the morals of these hopeless classes, except there be\na change effected in the whole man as well as in his surroundings.\nTo this everything I hope to attempt will tend.  In many cases I shall\nsucceed, in some I shall fail; but even in failing of this my ultimate\ndesign, I shall at least benefit the bodies, if not the souls, of men;\nand if I do not save the fathers, I shall make a better chance for the\nchildren.\n\nIt will be seen therefore that in this or in any other development that\nmay follow I have no intention to depart in the smallest degree from\nthe main principles on which I have acted in the past.  My only hope\nfor the permanent deliverance of mankind from misery, either in this\nworld or the next, is the regeneration or remaking of the individual by\nthe power of the Holy Ghost through Jesus Christ.  But in providing for\nthe relief of temporal misery I reckon that I am only making it easy\nwhere it is now difficult, and possible where it is now all but\nimpossible, for men and women to find their way to the Cross of our\nLord Jesus Christ.\n\nThat I have confidence in my proposals goes without saying.\nI believe they will work.  In miniature many of them are working\nalready.  But I do not claim that my Scheme is either perfect in its\ndetails or complete in the sense of being adequate to combat all forms\nof the gigantic evils against which it is in the main directed.\nLike other human things it must be perfected through suffering.\nBut it is a sincere endeavour to do something, and to do it on\nprinciples which can be instantly applied and universally developed.\nTime, experience, criticism, and, above all, the guidance of God will\nenable us, I hope, to advance on the lines here laid down to a true and\npractical application of the words of the Hebrew Prophet:  \"Loose the\nbands of wickedness; undo the heavy burdens; let the oppressed go free;\nbreak every yoke; deal thy bread to the hungry; bring the poor that are\ncast out to thy house.  When thou seest the naked cover him and hide\nnot thyself from thine own flesh.  Draw out thy soul to the hungry--\nThen they that be of thee shall build the old waste places and Thou\nshalt raise up the foundations of many generations.\"\n\nTo one who has been for nearly forty years indissolubly associated with\nme in every undertaking I owe much of the inspiration which has found\nexpression in this book.  It is probably difficult for me to fully\nestimate the extent to which the splendid benevolence and unbounded\nsympathy of her character have pressed me forward in the life-long\nservice of man, to which we have devoted both ourselves and our\nchildren.  It will be an ever green and precious memory to me that amid\nthe ceaseless suffering of a dreadful malady my dying wife found relief\nin considering and developing the suggestions for the moral and social\nand spiritual blessing of the people which are here set forth, and I do\nthank God she was taken from me only when the book was practically\ncomplete and the last chapters had been sent to the press.\n\nIn conclusion, I have to acknowledge the services rendered to me in\npreparing this book by Officers under my command.  There could be no\nhope of carrying out any part of it, but for the fact that so many\nthousands are ready at my call and under my direction to labour to the\nvery utmost of their strength for the salvation of others without the\nhope of earthly reward.  Of the practical common sense, the resource,\nthe readiness for every form of usefulness of those Officers and\nSoldiers, the world has no conception.  Still less is it capable of\nunderstanding the height and depth of their self-sacrificing devotion\nto God and the poor.\n\nI have also to acknowledge valuable literary help from a friend of the\npoor, who, though not in any way connected with the Salvation Army,\nhas the deepest sympathy with its aims and is to a large extent in\nharmony with its principles.  Without such assistance I should probably\nhave found it--overwhelmed as I already am with the affairs of a\nworld-wide enterprise--extremely difficult, if not impossible, to\nhave presented these proposals for which I am alone responsible in so\ncomplete a form, at any rate at this time.  I have no doubt that if any\nsubstantial part of my plan is successfully carried out he will\nconsider himself more than repaid for the services so ably rendered.\n\nWILLIAM BOOTH.\n\nINTERNATIONAL HEADQUARTERS OF THE SALVATION ARMY, LONDON, E.C.,\nOctober, 1890.\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\nPART 1. THE DARKNESS.\n\nCHAPTER 1.  Why \"Darkest England\"?\n\nCHAPTER 2.  The Submerged Tenth\n\nCHAPTER 3.  The Homeless\n\nCHAPTER 4.  The Out-of-Works\n\nCHAPTER 5.  On the Verge of the Abyss\n\nCHAPTER 6.  The Vicious\n\nCHAPTER 7.  The Criminals\n\nCHAPTER 8.  The Children of the Lost\n\nCHAPTER 9.  Is there no Help?\n\n\nPART 2. DELIVERANCE.\n\nCHAPTER 1.  A Stupendous Undertaking\n\n  Section 1. The Essentials to Success\n  Section 2. My Scheme\n\n\nCHAPTER 2.  To the Rescue!--The City Colony\n\n  Section 1. Food and Shelter for Every Man\n  Section 2. Work for the Out-of-Works--The Factory\n  Section 3. The Regimentation of the Unemployed\n  Section 4. The Household Salvage Brigade\n\n\nCHAPTER 3.  To the Country!--The Farm Colony\n\n  Section 1. The Farm Proper\n  Section 2. The Industrial Village\n  Section 3. Agricultural Villages\n  Section 4. Co-operative Farm\n\n\nCHAPTER 4.  New Britain--The Colony Over Sea\n\n  Section 1. The Colony and the Colonists\n  Section 2. Universal Emigration\n  Section 3. The Salvation Ship\n\n\nCHAPTER 5.  More Crusades\n\n  Section 1. A Slum Crusade.--Our Slum Sisters\n  Section 2. The Travelling Hospital\n  Section 3. Regeneration of our Criminals--The Prison Gate Brigade\n  Section 4. Effectual Deliverance for the Drunkard\n  Section 5. A New Way of Escape for Lost Women--The Rescue Homes\n  Section 6. A Preventive Home for Unfallen Girls when in Danger\n  Section 7. Enquiry Office for Lost People\n  Section 8. Refuges for the Children of the Streets\n  Section 9. Industrial Schools\n  Section 10. Asylums for Moral Lunatics\n\n\nCHAPTER 6.  Assistance in General\n\n  Section 1. Improved Lodgings\n  Section 2. Model Suburban Villages\n  Section 3. The Poor Man's Bank\n  Section 4. The Poor Man's Lawyer\n  Section 5. Intelligence Department\n  Section 6. Co-operation in General\n  Section 7. Matrimonial Bureau\n  Section 8. Whitechapel-by-the-sea\n\n\nCHAPTER 7.  Can it be done, and how?\n\n  Section 1. The Credentials of the Salvation Army\n  Section 2. How much will it cost?\n  Section 3. Some advantages stated\n  Section 4. Some objections met\n  Section 5. Recapitulation\n\nCHAPTER 8.  A Pratical Conclusion\n\n\n\nIN DARKEST ENGLAND\n\nPART 1. THE DARKNESS.\n\nCHAPTER 1.  WHY \"DARKEST ENGLAND\"?\n\nThis summer the attention of the civilised world has been arrested by\nthe story which Mr. Stanley has told of Darkest Africa and his\njourneyings across the heart of the Lost Continent.  In all that\nspirited narrative of heroic endeavour, nothing has so much impressed\nthe imagination, as his description of the immense forest, which\noffered an almost impenetrable barrier to his advance.  The intrepid\nexplorer, in his own phrase, \"marched, tore, ploughed, and cut his way\nfor one hundred and sixty days through this inner womb of the true\ntropical forest.\"  The mind of man with difficulty endeavours to\nrealise this immensity of wooded wilderness, covering a territory half\nas large again as the whole of France, where the rays of the sun never\npenetrate, where in the dark, dank air, filled with the steam of the\nheated morass, human beings dwarfed into pygmies and brutalised into\ncannibals lurk and live and die.  Mr Stanley vainly endeavours to bring\nhome to us the full horror of that awful gloom.  He says:\n\nTake a thick Scottish copse dripping with rain; imagine this to be mere\nundergrowth nourished under the impenetrable shade of ancient trees\nranging from 100 to 180 feet high; briars and thorns abundant; lazy\ncreeks meandering through the depths of the jungle, and sometimes a\ndeep affluent of a great river.  Imagine this forest and jungle in all\nstages of decay and growth, rain pattering on you every other day of\nthe year; an impure atmosphere with its dread consequences, fever and\ndysentery; gloom throughout the day and darkness almost palpable\nthroughout the night; and then if you can imagine such a forest\nextending the entire distance from Plymouth to Peterhead, you will have\na fair idea of some of the inconveniences endured by us in the Congo\nforest.\n\nThe denizens of this region are filled with a conviction that the\nforest is endless--interminable.  In vain did Mr. Stanley and his\ncompanions endeavour to convince them that outside the dreary wood were\nto be found sunlight, pasturage and peaceful meadows.\n\nThey replied in a manner that seemed to imply that we must be strange\ncreatures to suppose that it would be possible for any world to exist\nsave their illimitable forest.  \"No,\" they replied, shaking their heads\ncompassionately, and pitying our absurd questions, \"all like this,\" and\nthey moved their hand sweepingly to illustrate that the world was all\nalike, nothing but trees, trees and trees--great trees rising as high\nas an arrow shot to the sky, lifting their crowns intertwining their\nbranches, pressing and crowding one against the other, until neither\nthe sunbeam nor shaft of light can penetrate it.\n\n\"We entered the forest,\" says Mr. Stanley, \"with confidence; forty\npioneers in front with axes and bill hooks to clear a path through the\nobstructions, praying that God and good fortune would lead us.\"\nBut before the conviction of the forest dwellers that the forest was\nwithout end, hope faded out of the hearts of the natives of Stanley's\ncompany.  The men became sodden with despair, preaching was useless to\nmove their brooding sullenness, their morbid gloom.\n\nThe little religion they knew was nothing more than legendary lore,\nand in their memories there dimly floated a story of a land which grew\ndarker and darker as one travelled towards the end of the earth and\ndrew nearer to the place where a great serpent lay supine and coiled\nround the whole world.  Ah! then the ancients must have referred to\nthis, where the light is so ghastly, and the woods are endless, and are\nso still and solemn and grey; to this oppressive loneliness, amid so\nmuch life, which is so chilling to the poor distressed heart; and the\nhorror grew darker with their fancies; the cold of early morning, the\ncomfortless grey of dawn, the dead white mist, the ever-dripping tears\nof the dew, the deluging rains, the appalling thunder bursts and the\nechoes, and the wonderful play of the dazzling lightning.  And when the\nnight comes with its thick palpable darkness, and they lie huddled in\ntheir damp little huts, and they hear the tempest overhead, and the\nhowling of the wild winds, the grinding an groaning of the storm-tost\ntrees, and the dread sounds of the falling giants, and the shock of the\ntrembling earth which sends their hearts with fitful leaps to their\nthroats, and the roaring and a rushing as of a mad overwhelming sea--\noh, then the horror is intensified!  When the march has begun once\nagain, and the files are slowly moving through the woods, they renew\ntheir morbid broodings, and ask themselves:  How long is this to last?\nIs the joy of life to end thus?  Must we jog on day after day in this\ncheerless gloom and this joyless duskiness, until we stagger and fall\nand rot among the toads?  Then they disappear into the woods by twos,\nand threes, and sixes; and after the caravan has passed they return by\nthe trail, some to reach Yambuya and upset the young officers with\ntheir tales of woe and war; some to fall sobbing under a spear-thrust;\nsome to wander and stray in the dark mazes of the woods, hopelessly\nlost; and some to be carved for the cannibal feast.  And those who\nremain compelled to it by fears of greater danger, mechanically march\non, a prey to dread and weakness.\n\nThat is the forest.  But what of its denizens?  They are comparatively\nfew; only some hundreds of thousands living in small tribes from ten to\nthirty miles apart, scattered over an area on which ten thousand\nmillion trees put out the sun from a region four times as wide as\nGreat Britain.  Of these pygmies there are two kinds; one a very\ndegraded specimen with ferretlike eyes, close-set nose, more nearly\napproaching the baboon than was supposed to be possible, but very\nhuman; the other very handsome, with frank open innocent features,\nvery prepossessing.  They are quick and intelligent, capable of deep\naffection and gratitude, showing remarkable industry and patience.\nA pygmy boy of eighteen worked with consuming zeal; time with him was\ntoo precious to waste in talk.  His mind seemed ever concentrated on\nwork.  Mr. Stanley said: --\n\n\"When I once stopped him to ask him his name, his face seemed to say,\n'Please don't stop me.  I must finish my task.'\n\n\"All alike, the baboon variety and the handsome innocents, are\ncannibals.  They are possessed with a perfect mania for meat.  We were\nobliged to bury our dead in the river, lest the bodies should be\nexhumed and eaten, even when they had died from smallpox.\"\n\nUpon the pygmies and all the dwellers of the forest has descended a\ndevastating visitation in the shape of the ivory raiders of\ncivilisation.  The race that wrote the Arabian Nights, built Bagdad and\nGranada, and invented Algebra, sends forth men with the hunger for gold\nin their hearts, and Enfield muskets in their hands, to plunder and to\nslay.  They exploit the domestic affections of the forest dwellers in\norder to strip them of all they possess in the world.  That has been\ngoing on for years.  It is going on to-day.  It has come to be regarded\nas the natural and normal law of existence.  Of the religion of these\nhunted pygmies Mr. Stanley tells us nothing, perhaps because there is\nnothing to tell.  But an earlier traveller, Dr. Kraff, says that one\nof these tribes, by name Doko, had some notion of a Supreme Being, to\nwhom, under the name of Yer, they sometimes addressed prayers in\nmoments of sadness or terror.  In these prayers they say; \"Oh Yer, if\nThou dost really exist why dost Thou let us be slaves?  We ask not for\nfood or clothing, for we live on snakes, ants, and mice.  Thou hast\nmade us, wherefore dost Thou let us be trodden down?\"\n\nIt is a terrible picture, and one that has engraved itself deep on the\nheart of civilisation.  But while brooding over the awful presentation\nof life as it exists in the vast African forest, it seemed to me only\ntoo vivid a picture of many parts of our own land.  As there is a\ndarkest Africa is there not also a darkest England?  Civilisation,\nwhich can breed its own barbarians, does it not also breed its own\npygmies?  May we not find a parallel at our own doors, and discover\nwithin a stone's throw of our cathedrals and palaces similar horrors to\nthose which Stanley has found existing in the great Equatorial forest?\n\nThe more the mind dwells upon the subject, the closer the analogy\nappears.  The ivory raiders who brutally traffic in the unfortunate\ndenizens of the forest glades, what are they but the publicans who\nflourish on the weakness of our poor?  The two tribes of savages the\nhuman baboon and the handsome dwarf, who will not speak lest it impede\nhim in his task, may be accepted as the two varieties who are\ncontinually present with us--the vicious, lazy lout, and the toiling\nslave.  They, too, have lost all faith of life being other than it is\nand has been.  As in Africa, it is all trees trees, trees with no other\nworld conceivable; so is it here--it is all vice and poverty and\ncrime.  To many the world is all slum, with the Workhouse as an\nintermediate purgatory before the grave.  And just as Mr. Stanley's\nZanzibaris lost faith, and could only be induced to plod on in brooding\nsullenness of dull despair, so the most of our social reformers, no\nmatter how cheerily they may have started off, with forty pioneers\nswinging blithely their axes as they force their way in to the wood,\nsoon become depressed and despairing.  Who can battle against the ten\nthousand million trees?  Who can hope to make headway against the\ninnumerable adverse conditions which doom the dweller in Darkest\nEngland to eternal and immutable misery?  What wonder is it that many\nof the warmest hearts and enthusiastic workers feel disposed to repeat\nthe lament of the old English chronicler, who, speaking of the evil\ndays which fell upon our forefathers in the reign of Stephen, said\n\"It seemed to them as if God and his Saints were dead.\"\n\nAn analogy is as good as a suggestion; it becomes wearisome when it is\npressed too far.  But before leaving it, think for a moment how close\nthe parallel is, and how strange it is that so much interest should be\nexcited by a narrative of human squalor and human heroism in a distant\ncontinent, while greater squalor and heroism not less magnificent may\nbe observed at our very doors.\n\nThe Equatorial Forest traversed by Stanley resembles that Darkest\nEngland of which I have to speak, alike in its vast extent--both\nstretch, in Stanley's phrase, \"as far as from Plymouth to Peterhead;\"\nits monotonous darkness, its malaria and its gloom, its dwarfish\nde-humanized inhabitants, the slavery to which they are subjected,\ntheir privations and their misery.  That which sickens the stoutest\nheart, and causes many of our bravest and best to fold their hands in\ndespair, is the apparent impossibility of doing more than merely to\npeck at the outside of the endless tangle of monotonous undergrowth;\nto let light into it, to make a road clear through it, that shall not\nbe immediately choked up by the ooze of the morass and the luxuriant\nparasitical growth of the forest--who dare hope for that?\nAt present, alas, it would seem as though no one dares even to hope!\nIt is the great Slough of Despond of our time.\n\nAnd what a slough it is no man can gauge who has not waded therein, as\nsome of us have done, up to the very neck for long years.  Talk about\nDante's Hell, and all the horrors and cruelties of the torture-chamber\nof the lost!  The man who walks with open eyes and with bleeding heart\nthrough the shambles of our civilisation needs no such fantastic images\nof the poet to teach him horror.  Often and often, when I have seen the\nyoung and the poor and the helpless go down before my eyes into the\nmorass, trampled underfoot by beasts of prey in human shape that haunt\nthese regions, it seemed as if God were no longer in His world, but\nthat in His stead reigned a fiend, merciless as Hell, ruthless as the\ngrave.  Hard it is, no doubt, to read in Stanley's pages of the\nslave-traders coldly arranging for the surprise of a village, the\ncapture of the inhabitants, the massacre of those who resist, and the\nviolation of all the women; but the stony streets of London, if they\ncould but speak, would tell of tragedies as awful, of ruin as complete,\nof ravishments as horrible, as if we were in Central Africa; only the\nghastly devastation is covered, corpselike, with the artificialities\nand hypocrisies of modern civilisation.\n\nThe lot of a negress in the Equatorial Forest is not, perhaps, a very\nhappy one, but is it so very much worse than that of many a pretty\norphan girl in our Christian capital?  We talk about the brutalities of\nthe dark ages, and we profess to shudder as we read in books of the\nshameful exaction of the rights of feudal superior.  And yet here,\nbeneath our very eyes, in our theatres, in our restaurants, and in many\nother places, unspeakable though it be but to name it, the same hideous\nabuse flourishes unchecked.  A young penniless girl, if she be pretty,\nis often hunted from pillar to post by her employers, confronted always\nby the alternative--Starve or Sin.  And when once the poor girl has\nconsented to buy the right to earn her living by the sacrifice of her\nvirtue, then she is treated as a slave and an outcast by the very men\nwho have ruined her.  Her word becomes unbelievable, her life an\nignominy, and she is swept downward ever downward, into the bottomless\nperdition of prostitution.  But there, even in the lowest depths,\nexcommunicated by Humanity and outcast from God, she is far nearer the\npitying heart of the One true Saviour than all the men who forced her\ndown, aye, and than all the Pharisees and Scribes who stand silently by\nwhile these Fiendish wrongs are perpetrated before their very eyes.\n\nThe blood boils with impotent rage at the sight of these enormities,\ncallously inflicted, and silently borne by these miserable victims.\nNor is it only women who are the victims, although their fate is the\nmost tragic.  Those firms which reduce sweating to a fine art,\nwho systematically and deliberately defraud the workman of his pay,\nwho grind the faces of the poor, and who rob the widow and the orphan,\nand who for a pretence make great professions of public spirit and\nphilanthropy, these men nowadays are sent to Parliament to make laws\nfor the people.  The old prophets sent them to Hell--but we have\nchanged all that.  They send their victims to Hell, and are rewarded by\nall that wealth can do to make their lives comfortable.  Read the House\nof Lords' Report on the Sweating System, and ask if any African slave\nsystem, making due allowance for the superior civilisation, and\ntherefore sensitiveness, of the victims, reveals more misery.\n\nDarkest England, like Darkest Africa, reeks with malaria.  The foul and\nfetid breath of our slums is almost as poisonous as that of the African\nswamp.  Fever is almost as chronic there as on the Equator.  Every year\nthousands of children are killed off by what is called defects of our\nsanitary system.  They are in reality starved and poisoned, and all\nthat can be said is that, in many cases, it is better for them that\nthey were taken away from the trouble to come.\n\nJust as in Darkest Africa it is only a part of the evil and misery that\ncomes from the superior race who invade the forest to enslave and\nmassacre its miserable inhabitants, so with us, much of the misery of\nthose whose lot we are considering arises from their own habits.\nDrunkenness and all manner of uncleanness, moral and physical, abound.\nHave you ever watched by the bedside of a man in delirium tremens?\nMultiply the sufferings of that one drunkard by the hundred thousand,\nand you have some idea of what scenes are being witnessed in all our\ngreat cities at this moment.  As in Africa streams intersect the forest\nin every direction, so the gin-shop stands at every corner with its\nRiver of the Water of Death flowing seventeen hours out of the\ntwenty-four for the destruction of the people.  A population sodden\nwith drink, steeped in vice, eaten up by every social and physical\nmalady, these are the denizens of Darkest England amidst whom my life\nhas been spent, and to whose rescue I would now summon all that is best\nin the manhood and womanhood of our land.\n\nBut this book is no mere lamentation of despair.  For Darkest England,\nas for Darkest Africa, there is a light beyond.  I think I see my way\nout, a way by which these wretched ones may escape from the gloom of\ntheir miserable existence into a higher and happier life.\nLong wandering in the Forest of the Shadow of Death at out doors, has\nfamiliarised me with its horrors; but while the realisation is a\nvigorous spur to action it has never been so oppressive as to\nextinguish hope.  Mr. Stanley never succumbed to the terrors which\noppressed his followers.  He had lived in a larger life, and knew that\nthe forest, though long, was not interminable.  Every step forward\nbrought him nearer his destined goal, nearer to the light of the sun,\nthe clear sky, and the rolling uplands of the grazing land.\nTherefore he did not despair.  The Equatorial Forest was, after all,\na mere corner of one quarter of the world.  In the knowledge of\nthe light outside, in the confidence begotten by past experience of\nsuccessful endeavour, he pressed forward; and when the 160 days'\nstruggle was over, he and his men came out into a pleasant place where\nthe land smiled with peace and plenty, and their hardships and hunger\nwere forgotten in the joy of a great deliverance.\n\nSo I venture to believe it will be with us.  But the end is not yet.\nWe are still in the depths of the depressing gloom.  It is in no spirit\nof light-heartedness that this book is sent forth into the world as if\nit was written some ten years ago.\n\nIf this were the first time that this wail of hopeless misery had\nsounded on our ears the matter would have been less serious.  It is\nbecause we have heard it so often that the case is so desperate.\nThe exceeding bitter cry of the disinherited has become to be as\nfamiliar in the ears of men as the dull roar of the streets or as the\nmoaning of the wind through the trees.  And so it rises unceasing, year\nin and year out, and we are too busy or too idle, too indifferent or\ntoo selfish, to spare it a thought.  Only now and then, on rare\noccasions, when some clear voice is heard giving more articulate\nutterance to the miseries of the miserable men, do we pause in the\nregular routine of our daily duties, and shudder as we realise for one\nbrief moment what life means to the inmates of the Slums.  But one of\nthe grimmest social problems of our time should be sternly faced, not\nwith a view to the generation of profitless emotion, but with a view to\nits solution.\n\nIs it not time?  There is, it is true, an audacity in the mere\nsuggestion that the problem is not insoluble that is enough to take\naway the breath.  But can nothing be done?  If, after full and\nexhaustive consideration, we come to the deliberate conclusion that\nnothing can be done, and that it is the inevitable and inexorable\ndestiny of thousands of Englishmen to be brutalised into worse than\nbeasts by the condition of their environment, so be it.  But if, on the\ncontrary, we are unable to believe that this \"awful slough,\" which\nengulfs the manhood and womanhood of generation after generation is\nincapable of removal; and if the heart and intellect of mankind alike\nrevolt against the fatalism of despair, then, indeed, it is time, and\nhigh time, that the question were faced in no mere dilettante spirit,\nbut with a resolute determination to make an end of the crying scandal\nof our age.\n\nWhat a satire it is upon our Christianity and our civilisation that the\nexistence of these colonies of heathens and savages in the heart of our\ncapital should attract so little attention!  It is no better than a\nghastly mockery--theologians might use a stronger word--to call by\nthe name of One who came to seek and to save that which was lost those\nChurches which in the midst of lost multitudes either sleep in apathy\nor display a fitful interest in a chasuble.  Why all this apparatus of\ntemples and meeting-houses to save men from perdition in a world which\nis to come, while never a helping hand is stretched out to save them\nfrom the inferno of their present life?  Is it not time that,\nforgetting for a moment their wranglings about the infinitely little or\ninfinitely obscure, they should concentrate all their energies on a\nunited effort to break this terrible perpetuity of perdition, and to\nrescue some at least of those for whom they profess to believe their\nFounder came to die?\n\nBefore venturing to define the remedy, I begin by describing the\nmalady.  But even when presenting the dreary picture of our social\nills, and describing the difficulties which confront us, I speak not in\ndespondency but in hope.  \"I know in whom I have believed.\"  I know,\ntherefore do I speak.  Darker England is but a fractional part of\n\"Greater England.\"  There is wealth enough abundantly to minister to its\nsocial regeneration so far as wealth can, if there be but heart enough\nto set about the work in earnest.  And I hope and believe that the\nheart will not be lacking when once the problem is manfully faced, and\nthe method of its solution plainly pointed out.\n\nCHAPTER II.  THE SUBMERGED TENTH.\n\nIn setting forth the difficulties which have to be grappled with,\nI shall endeavour in all things to understate rather than overstate my\ncase.  I do this for two reasons:  first, any exaggeration would create\na reaction; and secondly, as my object is to demonstrate the\npracticability of solving the problem, I do not wish to magnify its\ndimensions.  In this and in subsequent chapters I hope to convince\nthose who read them that there is no overstraining in the\nrepresentation of the facts, and nothing Utopian in the presentation of\nremedies.  I appeal neither to hysterical emotionalists nor headlong\nenthusiasts; but having tried to approach the examination of this\nquestion in a spirit of scientific investigation, I put forth my\nproposals with the view of securing the support and co-operation of the\nsober, serious, practical men and women who constitute the saving\nstrength and moral backbone of the country.  I fully admit that them is\nmuch that is lacking in the diagnosis of the disease, and, no doubt,\nin this first draft of the prescription there is much room for\nimprovement, which will come when we have the light of fuller\nexperience.  But with all its drawbacks and defects, I do not hesitate\nto submit my proposals to the impartial judgment of all who are\ninterested in the solution of the social question as an immediate and\npractical mode of dealing with this, the greatest problem of our time.\n\nThe first duty of an investigator in approaching the study of any\nquestion is to eliminate all that is foreign to the inquiry, and to\nconcentrate his attention upon the subject to be dealt with.  Here I\nmay remark that I make no attempt in this book to deal with Society as\na whole.  I leave to others the formulation of ambitious programmes for\nthe reconstruction of our entire social system; not because I may not\ndesire its reconstruction, but because the elaboration of any plans\nwhich are more or less visionary and incapable of realisation for many\nyears would stand in the way of the consideration of this Scheme for\ndealing with the most urgently pressing aspect of the question, which I\nhope may be put into operation at once.\n\nIn taking this course I am aware that I cut myself off from a wide and\nattractive field; but as a practical man, dealing with sternly prosaic\nfacts, I must confine my attention to that particular section of the\nproblem which clamours most pressingly for a solution.  Only one thing\nI may say in passing.  Then is nothing in my scheme which will bring it\ninto collision either with Socialists of the State, or Socialists of\nthe Municipality, with Individualists or Nationalists, or any of the\nvarious schools of though in the great field of social economics--\nexcepting only those anti-christian economists who hold that it is an\noffence against the doctrine of the survival of the fittest to try to\nsave the weakest from going to the wall, and who believe that when once\na man is down the supreme duty of a self-regarding Society is to jump\nupon him.  Such economists will naturally be disappointed with this\nbook I venture to believe that all others will find nothing in it to\noffend their favourite theories, but perhaps something of helpful\nsuggestion which they may utilise hereafter.  What, then, is Darkest\nEngland?  For whom do we claim that \"urgency\" which gives their case\npriority over that of all other sections of their countrymen and\ncountrywomen?\n\nI claim it for the Lost, for the Outcast, for the Disinherited of the\nWorld.\n\nThese, it may be said, are but phrases.  Who are the Lost? reply, not\nin a religious, but in a social sense, the lost are those who have gone\nunder, who have lost their foothold in Society, those to whom the\nprayer to our Heavenly Father, \"Give us day by day our daily bread,\"\nis either unfulfilled, or only fulfilled by the Devil's agency:  by the\nearnings of vice, the proceeds of crime, or the contribution enforced\nby the threat of the law.\n\nBut I will be more precise.  The denizens in Darkest England; for whom\nI appeal, are (1) those who, having no capital or income of their own,\nwould in a month be dead from sheer starvation were they exclusively\ndependent upon the money earned by their own work; and (2) those who by\ntheir utmost exertions are unable to attain the regulation allowance of\nfood which the law prescribes as indispensable even for the worst\ncriminals in our gaols.\n\nI sorrowfully admit that it would be Utopian in our present social\narrangements to dream of attaining for every honest Englishman a gaol\nstandard of all the necessaries of life.  Some time, perhaps, we may\nventure to hope that every honest worker on English soil will always be\nas warmly clad, as healthily housed, and as regularly fed as our\ncriminal convicts--but that is not yet.\n\nNeither is it possible to hope for many years to come that human beings\ngenerally will be as well cared for as horses.  Mr. Carlyle long ago\nremarked that the four-footed worker has already got all that this\ntwo-handed one is clamouring for:  \"There are not many horses in\nEngland, able and willing to work, which have not due food and lodging\nand go about sleek coated, satisfied in heart.\"  You say it is\nimpossible; but, said Carlyle, \"The human brain, looking at these sleek\nEnglish horses, refuses to believe in such impossibility for English\nmen.\"  Nevertheless, forty years have passed since Carlyle said that,\nand we seem to be no nearer the attainment of the four-footed standard\nfor the two-handed worker.  \"Perhaps it might be nearer realisation,\"\ngrowls the cynic, \"if we could only product men according to demand, as\nwe do horses, and promptly send them to the slaughter-house when past\ntheir prime\"--which, of course, is not to be thought of.\n\nWhat, then, is the standard towards which we may venture to aim with\nsome prospect of realisation in our time?  It is a very humble one, but\nif realised it would solve the worst problems of modern Society.  It is\nthe standard of the London Cab Horse.  When in the streets of London a\nCab Horse, weary or careless or stupid, trips and falls and lies\nstretched out in the midst of the traffic there is no question of\ndebating how he came to stumble before we try to get him on his legs\nagain.  The Cab Horse is a very real illustration of poor broken-down\nhumanity; he usually falls down because of overwork and underfeeding.\nIf you put him on his feet without altering his conditions, it would\nonly be to give him another dose of agony; but first of all you'll have\nto pick him up again.  It may have been through overwork or\nunderfeeding, or it may have been all his own fault that he has broken\nhis knees and smashed the shafts, but that does not matter.  If not for\nhis own sake, then merely in order to prevent an obstruction of the\ntraffic, all attention is concentrated upon the question of how we are\nto get him on his legs again.  Tin load is taken off, the harness is\nunbuckled, or, if need be, cut, and everything is done to help him up.\nThen he is put in the shafts again and once more restored to his\nregular round of work.  That is the first point.  The second is that\nevery Cab Horse in London has three things; a shelter for the night,\nfood for its stomach, and work allotted to it by which it can earn its\ncorn.\n\nThese are the two points of the Cab Horse's Charter.  When he is down\nhe is helped up, and while he lives he has food, shelter and work.\nThat, although a humble standard, is at present absolutely unattainable\nby millions--literally by millions--of our fellow-men and women in\nthis country.  Can the Cab Horse Charter be gained for human beings?\nI answer, yes.  The Cab Horse standard can be attained on the Cab Horse\nterms.  If you get your fallen fellow on his feet again, Docility and\nDiscipline will enable you to reach the Cab Horse ideal, otherwise it\nwill remain unattainable.  But Docility seldom fails where Discipline\nis intelligently maintained.  Intelligence is more frequently lacking\nto direct than obedience to follow direction.  At any rate it is not\nfor those who possess the intelligence to despair of obedience, until\nthey have done their part.  Some, no doubt, like the bucking horse that\nwill never be broken in, will always refuse to submit to any guidance\nbut their own lawless will.  They will remain either the Ishmaels or\nthe Sloths of Society.  But man is naturally neither an Ishmael nor a\nSloth.\n\nThe first question, then, which confronts us is, what are the\ndimensions of the Evil?  How many of our fellow-men dwell in this\nDarkest England?  How can we take the census of those who have fallen\nbelow the Cab Horse standard to which it is our aim to elevate the most\nwretched of our countrymen?\n\nThe moment you attempt to answer this question, you are confronted by\nthe fact that the Social Problem has scarcely been studied at all\nscientifically.  Go to Mudie's and ask for all the books that have been\nwritten on the subject, and you will be surprised to find how few there\nare.  There are probably more scientific books treating of diabetes or\nof gout than there are dealing with the great social malady which eats\nout the vitals of such numbers of our people.  Of late there has been a\nchange for the better.  The Report of the Royal Commission on the\nHousing of the Poor, and the Report of the Committee of the House of\nLords on Sweating, represent an attempt at least to ascertain the facts\nwhich bear upon the Condition of the People question.  But, after all,\nmore minute, patient, intelligent observation has been devoted to the\nstudy of Earthworms, than to the evolution, or rather the degradation,\nof the Sunken Section of our people.  Here and there in the immense\nfield individual workers make notes, and occasionally emit a wail of\ndespair, but where is there any attempt even so much as to take the\nfirst preliminary step of counting those who have gone under?  One book\nthere is, and so far as I know at present, only one, which even\nattempts to enumerate the destitute.  In his \"Life and Labour in the\nEast of London,\" Mr. Charles Booth attempts to form some kind of an\nidea as to the numbers of those with whom we have to deal.  With a\nlarge staff of assistants, and provided with all the facts in\npossession of the School Board Visitors, Mr. Booth took an industrial\ncensus of East London.  This district, which comprises Tower Hamlets,\nShoreditch, Bethnal Green and Hackney, contains a population of\n908,000; that is to say, less than one-fourth of the population of\nLondon.  How do his statistics work out?  If we estimate the number of\nthe poorest class in the rest of London as being twice as numerous as\nthose in the Eastern District, instead of being thrice as numerous, as\nthey would be if they were calculated according to the population in\nthe same proportion, the following is the result:\n\n PAUPERS\n Inmates of Workhouses, Asylums,\n        and Hospitals ..  ..  ..   17,000      34,000       51,000\n\n HOMELESS\n Loafers, Casuals,\n     and some Criminals  ..   ..   11,000      22,000       33,000\n\n STARVING\n Casual earnings between\n  18s. per week and chronic want  100,000     200,000      300,000\n\n THE VERY POOR.\n Intermittent earnings\n  18s. to 21s. per week  ..   ..   74,000     148,000      222,000\n\n Small regular earnings\n  18s.to 21s. per week    ..  ..  129,000     258,000      387,000\n                                  -------     -------      -------\n                                  331,000     662,000      993,000\n\n\n Regular wages, artizans, etc.,\n  22s. to 30s. per week   ..  ..  337,000\n\n Higher class labour,\n  30s. to 50s. per week ..  ..  121,000\n\n Lower middle class,\n   shopkeepers, clerks, etc.  ..   34,000\n\n Upper middle class\n   (servant keepers) ..  ..  ..    45,000\n                                  -------\n                                  908,000\nIt may be admitted that East London affords an exceptionally bad\ndistrict from which to generalise for the rest of the country.\nWages are higher in London than elsewhere, but so is rent, and the\nnumber of the homeless and starving is greater in the human warren at\nthe East End.  There are 31 millions of people in Great Britain,\nexclusive of Ireland.  If destitution existed everywhere in East London\nproportions, there would be 31 times as many homeless and starving\npeople as there are in the district round Bethnal Green.\n\nBut let us suppose that the East London rate is double the average for\nthe rest of the country.  That would bring out the following figures:\n\n HOUSELESS\n                                     East London.   United Kingdom.\n\n Loafers, Casuals, and some Criminals   11,000         165,500\n\n STARVING\n Casual earnings or chronic want ..    100,000       1,550,000\n\n Total Houseless and Starving ..       111,000       1,715,500\n\n In Workhouses, Asylums, &c.   ..       17,000         190,000\n                                      --------       ----------\n                                       128,000       1,905,500\n\n\nOf those returned as homeless and starving, 870,000 were in receipt of\noutdoor relief.  To these must be added the inmates of our prisons.\nIn 1889 174,779 persons were received in the prisons, but the average\nnumber in prison at any one time did not exceed 60,000.  The figures,\nas given in the Prison Returns, are as follows: --\n\n In Convict Prisons ..  ..  ..  ..  ..   11,600\n In Local Prisons.. ..  ..  ..  ..  ..   20,883\n In Reformatories.. ..  ..  ..  ..  ..    1,270\n In Industrial Schools  ..  ..  ..  ..   21,413\n Criminal Lunatics  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..      910\n                                        -------\n                                         56,136\n\nAdd to this the number of indoor paupers and lunatics (excluding\ncriminals) 78,966--and we have an army of nearly two million:\nbelonging to the submerged classes.  To this there must be added at the\nvery least, another million, representing those dependent upon the\ncriminal, lunatic and other classes, not enumerated here, and the more\nor less helpless of the class immediately above the houseless and\nstarving.  This brings my total to three millions, or, to put it\nroughly to one-tenth of the population.  According to Lord Brabazon and\nMr. Samuel Smith, \"between two and three millions of our population\nare always pauperised and degraded.\"  Mr. Chamberlain says there is a\n\"population equal to that of the metropolis,--that is, between four\nand five millions--\"which has remained constantly in a state of\nabject destitution and misery.\"  Mr. Giffen is more moderate.\nThe submerged class, according to him, comprises one in five of manual\nlabourers, six in 100 of the population.  Mr. Giffen does not add the\nthird million which is living on the border line.\nBetween Mr Chamberlain's four millions and a half, and Mr. Giffen's\n1,800,000 I am content to take three millions as representing the total\nstrength of the destitute army.\n\nDarkest England, then, may be said to have a population about equal to\nthat of Scotland.  Three million men, women, and children a vast\ndespairing multitude in a condition nominally free, but really\nenslaved;--these it is whom we have to save.\n\nIt is a large order.  England emancipated her negroes sixty years ago,\nat a cost of #40,000,000, and has never ceased boasting about it since.\nBut at our own doors, from \"Plymouth to Peterhead,\" stretches this\nwaste Continent of humanity--three million human beings who are\nenslaved--some of them to taskmasters as merciless as any West Indian\noverseer, all of them to destitution and despair?\n\nIs anything to be done with them?  Can anything be done for them?\nOr is this million-headed mass to be regarded as offering a problem as\ninsoluble as that of the London sewage, which, feculent and festering,\nswings heavily up and down the basin of the Thames with the ebb and\nflow of the tide?\n\nThis Submerged Tenth--is it, then, beyond the reach of the\nnine-tenths in the midst of whom they live, and around whose homes they\nrot and die?  No doubt, in every large mass of human beings there will\nbe some incurably diseased in morals and in body, some for whom nothing\ncan be done, some of whom even the optimist must despair, and for whom\nhe can prescribe nothing but the beneficently stern restraints of an\nasylum or a gaol.\n\nBut is not one in ten a proportion scandalously high?\nThe Israelites of old set apart one tribe in twelve to minister to\nthe Lord in the service of the Temple; but must we doom one in ten of\n\"God's Englishmen\" to the service of the great Twin Devils--\nDestitution and Despair?\n\n\nCHAPTER 3.  THE HOMELESS\n\nDarkest England may be described as consisting broadly of three\ncircles, one within the other.  The outer and widest circle is\ninhabited by the starving and the homeless, but honest, Poor.\nThe second by those who live by Vice; and the third and innermost\nregion at the centre is peopled by those who exist by Crime.  The whole\nof the three circles is sodden with Drink.  Darkest England has many\nmore public-houses than the Forest of the Aruwimi has rivers, of which\nMr. Stanley sometimes had to cross three in half-an-hour.\n\nThe borders of this great lost land are not sharply defined.  They are\ncontinually expanding or contracting.  Whenever there is a period of\ndepression in trade, they stretch; when prosperity returns, they\ncontract.  So far as individuals are concerned, there are none among\nthe hundreds of thousands who live upon the outskirts of the dark\nforest who can truly say that they or their children are secure from\nbeing hopelessly entangled in its labyrinth.  The death of the\nbread-winner, a long illness, a failure in the City, or any one of a\nthousand other causes which might be named, will bring within the first\ncircle those who at present imagine themselves free from all danger of\nactual want.  The death-rate in Darkest England is high.  Death is the\ngreat gaol-deliverer of the captives.  But the dead are hardly in the\ngrave before their places are taken by others.  Some escape, but the\nmajority, their health sapped by their surroundings, become weaker and\nweaker, until at last they fall by the way, perishing without hope at\nthe very doors of the palatial mansions which, maybe, some of them\nhelped to build.\n\nSome seven years ago a great outcry was made concerning the Housing of\nthe Poor.  Much was said, and rightly said--it could not be said too\nstrongly--concerning the disease-breeding, manhood-destroying\ncharacter of many of the tenements in which the poor herd in our large\ncities.  But there is a depth below that of the dweller in the slums.\nIt is that of the dweller in the street, who has not even a lair in the\nslums which he can call his own.  The houseless Out-of-Work is in one\nrespect at least like Him of whom it was said, \"Foxes have holes, and\nbirds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man hath not where to lay\nHis head.\"\n\nThe existence of these unfortunates was somewhat rudely forced upon the\nattention of Society in 1887, when Trafalgar Square became the camping\nground of the Homeless Outcasts of London.  Our Shelters have done\nsomething, but not enough, to provide for the outcasts, who this night\nand every night are walking about the streets, not knowing where they\ncan find a spot on which to rest their weary frames.\n\nHere is the return of one of my Officers who was told off this summer\nto report upon the actual condition of the Homeless who have no roof to\nshelter them in all London: --\n\nThere are still a large number of Londoners and a considerable\npercentage of wanderers from the country in search of work, who find\nthemselves at nightfall destitute.  These now betake themselves to the\nseats under the plane trees on the Embankment.  Formerly they\nendeavoured to occupy all the seats, but the lynx-eyed Metropolitan\nPolice declined to allow any such proceedings, and the dossers, knowing\nthe invariable kindness of the City Police, made tracks for that\nportion of the Embankment which, lying east of the Temple, comes under\nthe control of the Civic Fathers.  Here, between the Temple and\nBlackfriars, I found the poor wretches by the score; almost every seat\ncontained its full complement of six--some men, some women--all\nreclining in various postures and nearly all fast asleep.  Just as\nBig Ben strikes two, the moon, flashing across the Thames and lighting\nup the stone work of the Embankment, brings into relief a pitiable\nspectacle.   Here on the stone abutments, which afford a slight\nprotection from the biting wind, are scores of men lying side by side,\nhuddled together for warmth, and, of course, without any other covering\nthan their ordinary clothing, which is scanty enough at the best.  Some\nhave laid down a few pieces of waste paper, by way of taking the chill\noff the stones, but the majority are too tired, even for that, and the\nnightly toilet of most consists of first removing the hat, swathing the\nhead in whatever old rag may be doing duty as a handkerchief, and then\nreplacing the hat.\n\nThe intelligent-looking elderly man, who was just fixing himself up on\na seat, informed me that he frequently made that his night's abode.\n\"You see,\" quoth he, \"there's nowhere else so comfortable.  I was here\nlast night, and Monday and Tuesday as well, that's four nights this\nweek.  I had no money for lodgings, couldn't earn any, try as I might.\nI've had one bit of bread to-day nothing else whatever, and I've earned\nnothing to-day or yesterday; I had threepence the day before.  Gets my\nliving by carrying parcels, or minding horses, or odd jobs of that\nsort.  You see I haven't got my health, that's where it is.  I used to\nwork on the London General Omnibus Company and after that on the Road\nCar Company, but I had to go to the infirmary with bronchitis and\ncouldn't get work after that.  What's the good of a man what's got\nbronchitis and just left the infirmary?  Who'll engage him, I'd like to\nknow?  Besides, it makes me short of breath at times, and I can't do\nmuch.  I'm a widower; wife died long ago.  I have one boy, abroad, a\nsailor, but he's only lately started and can't help me.  Yes! its very\nfair out here of nights, seats rather hard, but a bit of waste paper\nmakes it a lot softer.  We have women sleep here often, and children,\ntoo.  They're very well conducted, and there's seldom many rows here,\nyou see, because everybody's tired out.  We're too sleepy to make a\nrow.\"\n\nAnother party, a tall, dull, helpless-looking individual, had walked up\nfrom the country; would prefer not to mention the place.  He had hoped\nto have obtained a hospital letter at the Mansion House so as to obtain\na truss for a bad rupture, but failing, had tried various other places,\nalso in vain, win up minus money or food on the Embankment.\n\nIn addition to these sleepers, a considerable number walk about the\nstreets up till the early hours of the morning to hunt up some job\nwhich will bring I copper into the empty exchequer, and save them from\nactual starvation.  I had some conversation with one such, a stalwart\nyouth lately discharged from the militia, and unable to get work.\n\n\"You see,\" said he, pitifully, \"I don't know my way about like most of\nthe London fellows.  I'm so green, and don't know how to pick up jobs\nlike they do.  I've been walking the streets almost day and night these\ntwo weeks and can't get work.  I've got the strength, though I shan't\nhave it long at this rate.  I only want a job.  This is the third night\nrunning that I've walked the streets all night; the only money I get is\nby minding blacking-boys' boxes while they go into Lockhart's for their\ndinner.  I got a penny yesterday at it, and twopence for carrying a\nparcel, and to-day I've had a penny.  Bought a ha'porth of bread and a\nha'penny mug of tea.\"\n\nPoor lad! probably he would soon get into thieves' company, and sink\ninto the depths, for there is no other means of living for many like\nhim; it is starve or steal, even for the young.  There are gangs of lad\nthieves in the low Whitechapel lodging-houses, varying in age from\nthirteen to fifteen, who live by thieving eatables and other easily\nobtained goods from shop fronts.  In addition to the Embankment,\nal fresco lodgings are found in the seats outside Spitalfields Church,\nand many homeless wanderers have their own little nooks and corners of\nresort in many sheltered yards, vans, etc., all over London.\nTwo poor women I observed making their home in a shop door-way in\nLiverpool Street.  Thus they manage in the summer; what it's like in\nwinter time is terrible to think of.  In many cases it means the\npauper's grave, as in the case of a young woman who was wont to sleep\nin a van in Bedfordbury.  Some men who were aware of her practice\nsurprised her by dashing a bucket of water on her.  The blow to her\nweak system caused illness, and the inevitable sequel--a coroner's\njury came to the conclusion that the water only hastened her death,\nwhich was due, in plain English, to starvation.\n\nThe following are some statements taken down by the same Officer from\ntwelve men whom he found sleeping on the Embankment on the nights of\nJune 13th and 14th, 1890:-\n\nNo. 1.  \"I've slept here two nights; I'm a confectioner by trade;\nI come from Dartford.  I got turned off because I'm getting elderly.\nThey can get young men cheaper, and I have the rheumatism so bad.\nI've earned nothing these two days; I thought I could get a job at\nWoolwich, so I walked there, but could get nothing.  I found a bit of\nbread in the road wrapped up in a bit of newspaper.  That did me for\nyesterday.  I had a bit of bread and butter to-day.  I'm 54 years old.\nWhen it's wet we stand about all night under the arches.'\n\nNo. 2.  \"Been sleeping out three weeks all but one night; do odd jobs,\nmind horses, and that sort of thing.  Earned nothing to-day, or\nshouldn't be here.  Have had a pen'orth of bread to-day.  That's all.\nYesterday had some pieces given to me at a cook-shop.  Two days last\nweek had nothing at all from morning till night.  By trade I'm a\nfeather-bed dresser, but it's gone out of fashion, and besides that,\nI've a cataract in one eye, and have lost the sight of it completely.\nI'm a widower, have one child, a soldier, at Dover.  My last regular\nwork was eight months ago, but the firm broke.  Been doing odd jobs\nSince.\"\n\nNo. 3.  \"I'm a tailor; have slept here four nights running.  Can't get\nwork.  Been out of a job three weeks.  If I can muster cash I sleep at\na lodging-house in Vere Street, Glare Market.  It was very wet last\nnight.  I left these seats and went to Covent Garden Market and slept\nunder cover.  There were about thirty of us.  The police moved us on,\nbut we went back as soon as they had gone.  I've had a pen'orth of\nbread and pen'orth of soup during the last two days--often goes\nwithout altogether.  There are women sleep out here.  They are decent\npeople, mostly charwomen and such like who can't get work.\"\n\nNo.4.  Elderly man; trembles visibly with excitement at mention of\nwork; produces a card carefully wrapped in old newspaper, to the effect\nthat Mr. J.R. is a member of the Trade Protection League.  He is a\nwaterside labourer; last job at that was a fortnight since.  Has earned\nnothing for five days.  Had a bit of bread this morning, but not a\nscrap since.  Had a cup of tea and two slices of bread yesterday, and\nthe same the day before; the deputy at a lodging house gave it to him.\nHe is fifty years old, and is still damp from sleeping out in the wet\nlast night.\n\nNo. 5.  Sawyer by trade, machinery cut him out.  Had a job, haymaking\nnear Uxbridge.  Had been on same job lately for a month; got 2s. 6d a\nday.  (Probably spent it in drink, seems a very doubtful worker.) Has\nbeen odd jobbing a long time, earned 2d. to-day, bought a pen'orth of\ntea and ditto of sugar (produces same from pocket) but can't get any\nplace to make the tea; was hoping to get to a lodging house where he\ncould borrow a teapot, but had no money.  Earned nothing yesterday,\nslept at a casual ward; very poor place, get insufficient food,\nconsidering the labour.  Six ounces of bread and a pint of skilly for\nbreakfast, one ounce of cheese and six or seven ounces of bread for\ndinner (bread cut by guess).  Tea same as breakfast,--no supper.\nFor this you have to break 10 cwt. of stones, or pick 4 lbs. of oakum.\n\nNumber 6.  Had slept out four nights running.  Was a distiller by trade\nbeen out four months; unwilling to enter into details of leaving, but\nit was his own fault.  (Very likely; a heavy, thick, stubborn, and\nsenseless-looking fellow, six feet high, thick neck, strong limbs,\nevidently destitute of ability.  Does odd jobs; earned 3d. for minding\na horse, bought a cup of coffee and pen'orth of bread and butter.\nHas no money now.  Slept under Waterloo Bridge last night.\n\nNo. 7.  Good-natured looking man; one who would suffer and say nothing\nclothes shining with age, grease, and dirt; they hang on his joints as\non pegs; awful rags!  I saw him endeavouring to walk.  He lifted his\nfeet very slowly and put them down carefully in evident pain.  His legs\nare bad; been in infirmary several times with them.  His uncle and\ngrandfather were clergymen; both dead now.  He was once in a good\nposition in a money office, and afterwards in the London and County\nBank for nine years.  Then he went with an auctioneer who broke, and he\nwas left ill, old, and without any trade.  \"A clerk's place,\" says he,\n\"is never worth having, because there are so many of them, and once out\nyou can only get another place with difficulty.  I have a\nbrother-in-law on the Stock Exchange, but he won't own me.  Look at my\nclothes?  Is it likely?\"\n\nNo. 8.  Slept here four nights running.  Is a builder's labourer by\ntrade, that is, a handy-man.  Had a settled job for a few weeks which\nexpired three weeks since.  Has earned nothing for nine days.  Then\nhelped wash down a shop front and got 2s. 6d. for it.  Does anything\nhe can get.  Is 46 years old.  Earns about 2d. or 3d. a day at horse\nminding.  A cup of tea and a bit of bread yesterday, and same to-day,\nis all he has had.\n\nNo. 9.  A plumber's labourer (all these men who are somebody's\n\"labourers\" are poor samples of humanity, evidently lacking in grit,\nand destitute of ability to do any work which would mean decent wages).\nJudging from appearances, they will do nothing well.  They are a kind\nof automaton, with the machinery rusty; slow, dull, and incapable.\nThe man of ordinary intelligence leaves them in the rear.  They could\ndoubtless earn more even at odd jobs, but lack the energy.  Of course,\nthis means little food, exposure to weather, and increased incapability\nday by day.  (\"From him that hath not,\" etc.)  Out of work through\nslackness, does odd jobs; slept here three nights running.  Is a dock\nlabourer when he can get work.  Has 6d. an hour; works so many hours,\naccording as he is wanted.  Gets 2s., 3s., or 4s. 6d. a day.\nHas to work very hard for it.  Casual ward life is also very hard he\nsays, for those who are not used to it, and there is not enough to eat.\nHas had to-day a pen'orth of bread, for minding a cab.  Yesterday he\nspent 3 1/2d. on a breakfast, and that lasted him all day.  Age 25.\n\nNo. 10.  Been out of work a month.  Carman by trade.  Arm withered,\nand cannot do work properly.  Has slept here all the week; got an awful\ncold through the wet.  Lives at odd jobs (they all do).  Got sixpence\nyesterday for minding a cab and carrying a couple of parcels.\nEarned nothing to-day, but had one good meal; a lady gave it him.\nHas been walking about all day looking for work, and is tired out.\n\nNo. 11.  Youth, aged 16.  Sad case; Londoner.  Works at odd jobs and\nmatches selling.  Has taken 3d. to-day, i.e., net profit 1 1/2d.  Has\nfive boxes still.  Has slept here every night for a month.  Before that\nslept in Covent Garden Market or on doorsteps.  Been sleeping out six\nmonths, since he left Feltham Industrial School.  Was sent there for\nplaying truant.  Has had one bit of bread to-day; yesterday had only\nsome gooseberries and cherries, i.e., bad ones that had been thrown\naway.  Mother is alive.  She \"chucked him out\" when he returned home on\nleaving Feltham because he could'nt find her money for drink.\n\nNo. 12.  Old man, age 67.  Seems to take rather a humorous view of the\nposition.  Kind of Mark Tapley.  Says he can't say he does like it, but\nthen he must like it!  Ha, ha!  Is a slater by trade.  Been out of work\nsome time; younger men naturally get the work.  Gets a bit of\nbricklaying sometimes; can turn his hand to anything.  Goes miles and\ngets nothing.  Earned one and twopence this week at holding horses.\nFinds it hard, certainly.  Used to care once, and get down-hearted, but\nthat's no good; don't trouble now.  Had a bit of bread and butter and\ncup of coffee to-day.  Health is awful bad, not half the size he was;\nexposure and want of food is the cause; got wet last night, and is very\nstiff in consequence.  Has been walking about since it was light, that\nis 3 a.m.  Was so cold and wet and weak, scarcely knew what to do.\nWalked to Hyde Park, and got a little sleep there on a dry seat as soon\nas the park opened.\n\nThese are fairly typical cases of the men who are now wandering\nhomeless through the streets.  That is the way in which the nomads of\ncivilization are constantly being recruited from above.\n\nSuch are the stories gathered at random one Midsummer night this year\nunder the shade of the plane trees of the Embankment.  A month later,\nwhen one of my staff took the census of the sleepers out of doors along\nthe line of the Thames from Blackfriars to Westminster, he found three\nhundred and sixty-eight persons sleeping in the open air.  Of these,\ntwo hundred and seventy were on the Embankment proper, and ninety-eight\nin and about Covent Garden Market, while the recesses of Waterloo and\nBlackfriars Bridges were full of human misery.\n\nThis, be it remembered, was not during a season of bad trade.\nThe revival of business has been attested on all hands, notably by the\nbarometer of strong drink.  England is prosperous enough to drink rum\nin quantities which appall the Chancellor of the Exchequer but she is\nnot prosperous enough to provide other shelter than the midnight sky\nfor these poor outcasts on the Embankment.\n\nTo very many even of those who live in London it may be news that there\nare so many hundreds who sleep out of doors every night.  There are\ncomparatively few people stirring after midnight, and when we are\nsnugly tucked into our own beds we are apt to forget the multitude\noutside in the rain and the storm who are shivering the long hours\nthrough on the hard stone seats in the open or under the arches of the\nrailway.  These homeless, hungry people are, however there, but being\nbroken-spirited folk for the most part they seldom make their voices\naudible in the ears of their neighbours.  Now and again, however, a\nharsh cry from the depths is heard for a moment, jarring rudely upon\nthe ear and then all is still.  The inarticulate classes speak as\nseldom as Balaam's ass.  But they sometimes find a voice.  Here for\ninstance is one such case which impressed me much.  It was reported in\none of the Liverpool papers some time back.  The speaker was haranguing\na small knot of twenty or thirty men: --\n\n\"My lads,\" he commenced, with one hand in the breast of his ragged\nvest, and the other, as usual, plucking nervously at his beard,\n\"This kind o' work can't last for ever.\"  (Deep and earnest\nexclamations, \"It can't! It shan't\") \"Well, boys,\" continued the\nspeaker, \"Somebody'll have to find a road out o' this.  What we want is\nwork, not work'us bounty, though the parish has been busy enough\namongst us lately, God knows!  What we want is honest work,\n(Hear, hear.) Now, what I propose is that each of you gets fifty mates\nto join you; that'll make about 1,200 starving chaps--And then?\"\nasked several very gaunt and hungry-looking men excitedly.\n\"Why, then,\" continued the leader.  \"Why, then,\" interrupted a\ncadaverous-looking man from the farther and darkest end of the cellar,\n\"of course we'll make a--London job of it, eh?\" \"No, no,\" hastily\ninterposed my friend, and holding up his hands deprecatingly, \"we'll go\npeaceably about it chaps; we'll go in a body to the Town Hall, and show\nour poverty, and ask for work.  We'll take the women and children with\nus too.\"  (\"Too ragged!  Too starved!  They can't walk it!\") \"The women's\nrags is no disgrace, the staggerin' children 'll show what we come to.\nLet's go a thousand strong, and ask for work and bread!\"\n\nThree years ago, in London, there were some such processions.  Church\nparades to the Abbey and St. Paul's, bivouacs in Trafalgar Square, etc.\nBut Lazarus showed his rags and his sores too conspicuously for\nthe convenience of Dives, and was summarily dealt with in the name of\nlaw and order.  But as we have Lord Mayor's Days, when all the well-fed\nfur-clad City Fathers go in State Coaches through the town, why should\nwe not have a Lazarus Day, in which the starving Out-of-Works, and the\nsweated half-starved \"in-works\" of London should crawl in their\ntattered raggedness, with their gaunt, hungry faces, and emaciated\nWives and children, a Procession of Despair through the main\nthoroughfares past the massive houses and princely palaces of luxurious\nLondon?\n\nFor these men are gradually, but surely, being sucked down into the\nquicksand of modern life.  They stretch out their grimy hands to us in\nvain appeal, not for charity, but for work.\n\nWork, work! it is always work that they ask.  The Divine curse is to\nthem the most blessed of benedictions.  \"In the sweat of thy brow thou\nshalt eat thy bread,\" but alas for these forlorn sons of Adam, they\nfail to find the bread to eat, for Society has no work for them to do.\nThey have not even leave to sweat.  As well as discussing how these\npoor wanderers should in the second Adam \"all be made alive,\" ought we\nnot to put forth some effort to effect their restoration to that share\nin the heritage of lab our which is theirs by right of descent from the\nfirst Adam?\n\n\nCHAPTER 4.  THE OUT-OF-WORKS\n\nThere is hardly any more pathetic figure than that of the strong able\nworker crying plaintively in the midst of our palaces and churches not\nfor charity, but for work, asking only to be allowed the privilege of\nperpetual hard labour, that thereby he may earn wherewith to fill his\nempty belly and silence the cry of his children for food.  Crying for it\nand not getting it, seeking for labour as lost treasure and finding it\nnot, until at last, all spirit and vigour worn out in the weary quest,\nthe once willing worker becomes a broken-down drudge, sodden with\nwretchedness and despairing of all help in this world or in that which\nis to come.  Our organisation of industry certainly leaves much to be\ndesired.  A problem which even slave owners have solved ought not to be\nabandoned as insoluble by the Christian civilisation of the Nineteenth\nCentury.\n\nI have already given a few life stories taken down from the lip:  of\nthose who were found homeless on the Embankment which suggest somewhat\nof the hardships and the misery of the fruitless search for work.\nBut what a volume of dull, squalid horror--a horror of great darkness\ngradually obscuring all the light of day from the life of the sufferer\nmight be written from the simple prosaic experiences of the ragged\nfellows whom you meet every day in the street.  These men, whose labour\nis their only capital, are allowed, nay compelled to waste day after\nday by the want of any means of employment, and then when they have\nseen days and weeks roll by during which their capital has been wasted\nby pounds and pounds, they are lectured for not saving the pence.\nWhen a rich man cannot employ his capital he puts it out at interest,\nbut the bank for the labour capital of the poor man has yet to be\ninvented.  Yet it might be worth while inventing one.  A man's labour\nis not only his capital but his life.  When it passes it returns never\nmore.  To utilise it, to prevent its wasteful squandering, to enable\nthe poor man to bank it up for use hereafter, this surely is one of the\nmost urgent tasks before civilisation.\n\nOf all heart-breaking toil the hunt for work is surely the worst.\nYet at any moment let a workman lose his present situation, and he is\ncompelled to begin anew the dreary round of fruitless calls.  Here is\nthe story of one among thousands of the nomads, taken down from his own\nlips, of one who was driven by sheer hunger into crime.\n\nA bright Spring morning found me landed from a western colony.\nFourteen years had passed since I embarked from the same spot.\nThey were fourteen years, as far as results were concerned, of\nnon-success, and here I was again in my own land, a stranger, with anew\ncareer to carve for myself and the battle of life to fight over again.\n\nMy first thought was work.  Never before had I felt more eager for a\ndown right good chance to win my way by honest toil; but where was I to\nfind work.  With firm determination I started in search.  One day\npassed without success and another, and another, but the thought\ncheered me, \"Better luck to-morrow.\"  It has been said, \"Hope springs\neternal in the human breast.\"  In my case it was to be severely tested.\nDays soon ran into weeks, and still I was on the trail patiently and\nhopefully.  Courtesy and politeness so often met me in my enquiries for\nemployment that I often wished they would kick me out, and so vary the\nmonotony of the sickly veneer of consideration that so thinly overlaid\nthe indifference and the absolute unconcern they had to my need.  A few\ncut up rough and said, No; we don't want you.  \"Please don't trouble us\nagain (this after the second visit).  We have no vacancy; and if we\nhad, we have plenty of people on hand to fill it.\"\n\nWho can express the feeling that comes over one when the fact begins to\ndawn that the search for work is a failure?  All my hopes and prospects\nseemed to have turned out false.  Helplessness, I had often heard of\nit, had often talked about it, thought I knew all about it.  Yes! in\nothers, but now began to understand it for myself.  Gradually my\npersonal appearance faded.  My once faultless linen became unkempt and\nunclean.  Down further and further went the heels of my shoes, and I\ndrifted into that distressing condition \"shabby gentility.\"  If the odds\nwere against me before, how much more so now, seeing that I was too\nshabby even to command attention, much less a reply to my enquiry for\nwork.\n\nHunger now began to do its work, and I drifted to the dock gates, but\nwhat chance had I among the hungry giants there?  And so down the\nstream drifted until \"Grim Want\" brought me to the last shilling, the\nlast lodging, and the last meal.  What shall I do?  Where shall I go?\nI tried to think.  Must I starve?  Surely there must be some door still\nopen for honest willing endeavour, but where?  What can I do?  \"Drink,\"\nsaid the Tempter; but to drink to drunkenness needs cash, and oblivion\nby liquor demands an equivalent in the currency.\n\nStarve or steal.  \"You must do one or the other,\" said the Tempter.\nBut recoiled from being a Thief.  \"Why be so particular?\" says the\nTempter again \"You are down now, who will trouble about you?\nWhy trouble about yourself?  The choice is between starving and\nstealing.\"  And I struggled until hunger stole my judgment, and then I\nbecame a Thief.\n\nNo one can pretend that it was an idle fear of death by starvation\nwhich drove this poor fellow to steal.  Deaths from actual hunger an\nmore common than is generally supposed.  Last year, a man, whose name\nwas never known, was walking through St. James's Park, when three of\nour Shelter men saw him suddenly stumble and fall.  They thought he was\ndrunk, but found he had fainted.  They carried him to the bridge and\ngave him to the police.  They took him to St George's Hospital, where\nhe died.  It appeared that he had, according to his own tale, walked up\nfrom Liverpool, and had been without food for five days.  The doctor,\nhowever, said he had gone longer than that.  The jury returned a\nverdict of \"Death from Starvation.\"\n\nWithout food for five days or longer!  Who that has experienced the\nsinking sensation that is felt when even a single meal has been\nsacrificed may form some idea of what kind of slow torture killed that\nman!\n\nIn 1888 the average daily number of unemployed in London was estimated\nby the Mansion House Committee at 20,000.  This vast reservoir of\nunemployed labour is the bane of all efforts to raise the scale of\nliving, to improve the condition of labour.  Men hungering to death for\nlack of opportunity to earn a crust are the materials from which\n\"blacklegs\" are made, by whose aid the labourer is constantly defeated\nin his attempts to improve his condition.\n\nThis is the problem that underlies all questions of Trades Unionism and\nall Schemes for the Improvement of the Condition of the Industrial Army.\nTo rear any stable edifice that will not perish when the first storm\nrises and the first hurricane blows, it must be built not upon sand,\nbut upon a rock.  And the worst of all existing Schemes for social\nbetterment by organisation of the skilled workers and the like is that\nthey are founded, not upon \"rock,\" nor even upon \"sand,\" but upon the\nbottomless bog of the stratum of the Workless.  It is here where we\nmust begin.  The regimentation of industrial workers who have got\nregular work is not so very difficult.  That can be done, and is\nbeing done, by themselves.  The problem that we have to face is the\nregimentation, the organisation, of those who have not got work, or who\nhave only irregular work, and who from sheer pressure of absolute\nstarvation are driven irresistibly into cut-throat competition with\ntheir better employed brothers and sisters.  Skin for skin, all that a\nman hath, will he give for his life; much more, then, will those who\nexperimentally know not God give all that they might hope hereafter to\nhave--in this world or in the world to come.\n\nThere is no gainsaying the immensity of the problem.  It is appalling\nenough to make us despair.  But those who do not put their trust in man\nalone, but in One who is Almighty, have no right to despair.\nTo despair is to lose faith; to despair is to forget God Without God we\ncan do nothing in this frightful chaos of human misery.  But with God\nwe can do all things, and in the faith that He has made in His image\nall the children of men we face even this hideous wreckage of humanity\nwith a cheerful confidence that if we are but faithful to our own high\ncalling He will not fail to open up a way of deliverance.\n\nI have nothing to say against those who are endeavouring to open up a\nway of escape without any consciousness of God's help.  For them I feel\nonly sympathy and compassion.  In so far as they are endeavouring to\ngive bread to the hungry, clothing to the naked, and above all, work to\nthe workless, they are to that extent endeavouring to do the will of\nour Father which is in Heaven, and woe be unto all those who say them\nnay!  But to be orphaned of all sense of the Fatherhood of God is surely\nnot a secret source of strength.  It is in most cases--it would be in\nmy own--the secret of paralysis.  If I did not feel my Father's hand\nin the darkness, and hear His voice in the silence of the night watches\nbidding me put my hand to this thing, I would shrink back dismayed;--\nbut as it is I dare not.\n\nHow many are there who have made similar attempts and have failed, and\nwe have heard of them no more!  Yet none of them proposed to deal with\nmore than the mere fringe of the evil which, God helping me, I will try\nto face in all its immensity.  Most Schemes that are put forward for\nthe Improvement of the Circumstances of the People are either avowedly\nor actually limited to those whose condition least needs amelioration.\nThe Utopians, the economists, and most of the philanthropists propound\nremedies, which, if adopted to-morrow, would only affect the\naristocracy of the miserable.  It is the thrifty, the industrious,\nthe sober, the thoughtful who can take advantage of these plans.\nBut the thrifty, the industrious, the sober, and the thoughtful are\nalready very well able for the most part to take care of themselves.\nNo one will ever make even a visible dint on the Morass of Squalor who\ndoes not deal with the improvident, the lazy, the vicious, and the\ncriminal.  The Scheme of Social Salvation is not worth discussion which\nis not as wide as the Scheme of Eternal Salvation set forth in the\nGospel. The Glad Tidings must be to every creature, not merely to an\nelect few who are to be saved while the mass of their fellow are\npredestined to a temporal damnation.  We have had this doctrine of an\ninhuman cast-iron pseudo-political economy too long enthroned amongst us.\nIt is now time to fling down the false idol and proclaim a Temporal\nSalvation as full, free, and universal, and with no other limitations\nthan the \"Whosoever will,\" of the Gospel.\n\nTo attempt to save the Lost, we must accept no Limitations to human\nbrotherhood.  If the Scheme which I set forth in these and the\nfollowing pages is not applicable to the Thief, the Harlot,\nthe Drunkard, and the Sluggard, it may as well be dismissed without\nceremony.  As Christ came to call not the saints but sinners to\nrepentance, so the New Message of Temporal Salvation, of salvation from\npinching poverty, from rags and misery, must be offered to all.\nThey may reject it, of course.  But we who call ourselves by the name\nof Christ are not worthy to profess to be His disciples until we have\nset an open door before the least and worst of these who are now\napparently imprisoned for life in a horrible dungeon of misery and\ndespair.  The responsibility for its rejection must be theirs, not\nours.  We all know the prayer, \"Give me neither poverty nor riches,\nfeed me with food convenient for me\"--and for every child of man on\nthis planet, thank God the prayer of Agur, the son of Jakeh, may be\nfulfilled.\n\nAt present how far it is from being realised may be seen by anyone who\nwill take the trouble to go down to the docks and see the struggle for\nwork.  Here is a sketch of what was found there this summer: --\n\nLondon Docks, 7.25 a.m.  The three pairs of huge wooden doors are\nclosed.  Leaning against then, and standing about, there are perhaps a\ncouple of hundred men.  The public house opposite is full, doing a\nheavy trade.  All along the road are groups of men, and from each\ndirection a steady stream increases the crowd at the gate.\n\n7.30 Doors open, there is a general rush to the interior.  Everybody\nmarches about a hundred yards along to the iron barrier--a temporary\nchair affair, guarded by the dock police.  Those men who have\npreviously (i.e., night before) been engaged, show their ticket and\npass through, about six hundred.  The rest--some five hundred stand\nbehind the barrier, patiently waiting the chance of a job, but less\nthan twenty of these get engaged.  They are taken on by a foreman who\nappears next the barrier and proceeds to pick his men.  No sooner is\nthe foreman seen, than there is a wild rush to the spot and a sharp mad\nfight to \"catch his eye.\"  The men picked out, pass the barrier, and the\nexcitement dies away until another lot of men are wanted.\n\nThey wait until eight o'clock strikes, which is the signal to withdraw.\nThe barrier is taken down and all those hundreds of men, wearily\ndisperse to \"find a job.\"  Five hundred applicants, twenty acceptances!\nNo wonder one tired-out looking individual ejaculates, \"Oh dear,\nOh dear! Whatever shall I do?\"  A few hang about until mid-day on the\nslender chance of getting taken on then for half a day.\n\nAsk the men and they will tell you something like the following story,\nwhich gives the simple experiences of a dock labourer.\n\nR. P. said: --\"I was in regular work at the South West India Dock\nbefore the strike.  We got 5d. an hour.  Start work 8 a.m. summer and\n9 a.m winter.  Often there would be five hundred go, and only twenty\nget taken on (that is besides those engaged the night previous.)\nThe foreman stood in his box, and called out the men he wanted.\nHe would know quite five hundred by name.  It was a regular fight to\nget work, I have known nine hundred to be taken on, but there's always\nhundreds turned away.  You see they get to know when ships come in, and\nwhen they're consequently likely to be wanted, and turn up then in\ngreater numbers.  I would earn 30s. a week sometimes and then perhaps\nnothing for a fortnight.  That's what makes it so hard.  You get\nnothing to eat for a week scarcely, and then when you get taken on, you\nare so weak that you can't do it properly.  I've stood in the crowd at\nthe gate and had to go away without work, hundreds of times.  Still I\nshould go at it again if I could.  I got tired of the little work and\nwent away into the country to get work on a farm, but couldn't get it,\nso I'm without the 10s. that it costs to join the Dockers' Union.  I'm\ngoing to the country again in a day or two to try again.  Expect to get\n3s. a day perhaps.  Shall come back to the docks again.  Then is a\nchance of getting regular dock work, and that is, to lounge about the\npubs where the foremen go, and treat them.  Then they will very likely\ntake you on next day.\"\n\nR. P. was a non-Unionist.  Henry F. is a Unionist.  His history is much\nthe same.\n\n\"I worked at St. Katherine's Docks five months ago.  You have to get\nto the gates at 6 o'clock for the first call.  There's generally about\n400 waiting.  They will take on one to two hundred.  Then at 7 o'clock\nthere's a second call.  Another 400 will have gathered by then, and\nanother hundred or so will be taken on.  Also there will probably be\ncalls at nine and one o'clock.  About the same number turn up but\nthere's no work for many hundreds of them.  I was a Union man.  That\nmeans 10s. a week sick pay, or 8s. a week for slight accidents; also\nsome other advantages.  The Docks won't take men on now unless they are\nUnionists.  The point is that there's too many men.  I would often be\nout of work a fortnight to three weeks at a time.  Once earned #3 in a\nweek, working day and night, but then had a fortnight out directly\nafter.  Especially when then don't happen to be any ships in for a few\ndays, which means, of course, nothing to unload.  That's the time;\nthere's plenty of men almost starving then.  They have no trade to go\nto, or can get no work at it, and they swoop down to the docks for\nwork, when they had much better stay away.\"\n\nBut it is not only at the dock-gates that you come upon these\nunfortunates who spend their lives in the vain hunt for work.  Here is\nthe story of another man whose case has only too many parallels.\n\nC. is a fine built man, standing nearly six feet.  He has been in the\nRoyal Artillery for eight years and held very good situations whilst in\nit.  It seems that he was thrifty and consequently steady.  He bought\nhis discharge, and being an excellent cook opened a refreshment house,\nbut at the end of five months he was compelled to close his shop on\naccount of slackness in trade, which was brought about by the closing\nof a large factory in the locality.\n\nAfter having worked in Scotland and Newcastle-on-Tyne for a few years,\nand through ill health having to give up his situation, he came to\nLondon with he hope that he might get something to do in his native\ntown.  He has had no regular employment for the past eight months.\nHis wife and family are in a state of destitution, and he remarked,\n\"We only had 1 lb. of bread between us yesterday.\"  He is six weeks in\narrears of rent, and is afraid that he will be ejected.  The furniture\nwhich is in his home is not worth 3s. and the clothes of each member\nof his family are in a tattered state and hardly fit for the rag bag.\nHe assured us he had tried every where to get employment and would be\nwilling to take anything.  His characters are very good indeed.\n\nNow, it may seem a preposterous dream that any arrangement can be\ndevised by which it may be possible, under all circumstances,\nto provide food, clothes, and shelter for all these Out-of-Works\nwithout any loss of self respect; but I am convinced that it can be\ndone, providing only that they are willing to Work, and, God helping\nme, if the means are forthcoming, I mean to try to do it; how, and\nwhere, and when, I will explain in subsequent chapters.\n\nAll that I need say here is, that so long as a man or woman is willing\nto submit to the discipline indispensable in every campaign against any\nformidable foe, there appears to me nothing impossible about this\nideal; and the great element of hope before us is that the majority\nare, beyond all gainsaying, eager for work.  Most of them now do more\nexhausting work in seeking for employment than the regular toilers do\nin their workshops, and do it, too, under the darkness of hope deferred\nwhich maketh the heart sick.\n\n\nCHAPTER 5.  ON THE VERGE OF THE ABYSS.\n\nThere is, unfortunately, no need for me to attempt to set out, however\nimperfectly, any statement of the evil case of the sufferers what we\nwish to help.  For years past the Press has been filled with echoes of\nthe \"Bitter Cry of Outcast London,\" with pictures of \"Horrible Glasgow,\"\nand the like.  We have had several volumes describing \"How the Poor Live\"\nand I may therefore assume that all my readers are more or less cognizant\nof the main outlines a \"Darkest England.\"  My slum officers are living in\nthe midst of it their reports are before me, and one day I may publish\nsome more detailed account of the actual facts of the social condition\nof the Sunken Millions.  But not now.  All that must be taken as read.\nI only glance at the subject in order to bring into clear relief the\nsalient points of our new Enterprise.\n\nI have spoken of the houseless poor.  Each of these represents a point\nin the scale of human suffering below that of those who have still\ncontrived to keep a shelter over their heads.  A home is a home, be it\never so low; and the desperate tenacity with which the poor will cling\nto the last wretched semblance of one is very touching.  There are vile\ndens, fever-haunted and stenchful crowded courts, where the return of\nsummer is dreaded because it means the unloosing of myriads of vermin\nwhich render night unbearable, which, nevertheless, are regarded at\nthis moment as havens of rest by their hard-working occupants.\nThey can scarcely be said to be furnished.  A chair, a mattress, and a\nfew miserable sticks constitute all the furniture of the single room in\nwhich they have to sleep, and breed, and die; but they cling to it as a\ndrowning man to a half-submerged raft.  Every week they contrive by\npinching and scheming to raise the rent, for with them it is pay or go\nand they struggle to meet the collector as the sailor nerves himself to\navoid being sucked under by the foaming wave.  If at any time work\nfails or sickness comes they are liable to drop helplessly into the\nranks of the homeless.  It is bad for a single man to have to confront\nthe struggle for life in the streets and Casual Wards.  But how much\nmore terrible must it be for the married man with his wife and children\nto be turned out into the streets.  So long as the family has a lair\ninto which it can creep at night, he keeps his footing; but when he\nloses that solitary foothold then arrives the time if there be such a\nthing as Christian compassion, for the helping hand to be held out to\nsave him from the vortex that sucks him downward--ay, downward to the\nhopeless under-strata of crime and despair.\n\n\"The heart knoweth its own bitterness and the stranger inter-meddleth\nnot therewith.\"  But now and then out of the depths there sounds a\nbitter wail as of some strong swimmer in his agony as he is drawn under\nby the current.  A short time ago a respectable man, a chemist in\nHolloway, fifty years of age, driven hard to the wall, tried to end it\nall by cutting his throat.  His wife also cut her throat, and at the\nsame time they gave strychnine to their only child.  The effort failed,\nand they were placed on trial for attempted murder.  In the Court a\nletter was read which the poor wretch had written before attempting his\nlife:-\n\nMY DEAREST GEORGE,--Twelve months have I now passed of a most\nmiserable and struggling existence, and I really cannot stand it any\nmore.  I am completely worn out, and relations who could assist me\nwon't do any more, for such was uncle's last intimation.  Never mind;\nhe can't take his money and comfort with him, and in all probability\nwill find himself in the same boat as myself.  He never enquires\nwhether I am starving or not.  #3--a mere flea-bite to him--would\nhave put us straight, and with his security and good interest might\nhave obtained me a good situation long ago.  I can face poverty and\ndegradation no longer, and would sooner die than go to the workhouse,\nwhatever may be the awful consequences of the steps we have taken.\nWe have, God forgive us, taken our darling Arty with us out of pure\nlove and affection, so that the darling should never be cuffed about,\nor reminded or taunted with his heartbroken parents' crime.  My poor\nwife has done her best at needle-work, washing, house-minding, &c.,\nin fact, anything and everything that would bring in a shilling; but it\nwould only keep us in semi-starvation.  I have now done six weeks'\ntravelling from morning till night, and not received one farthing for\nit, If that is not enough to drive you mad--wickedly mad--I don't\nknow what is.  No bright prospect anywhere; no ray of hope.\n\nMay God Almighty forgive us for this heinous sin, and have mercy on our\nsinful souls, is the prayer of your miserable, broken-hearted, but\nloving brother, Arthur.  We have now done everything that we can\npossibly think of to avert this wicked proceeding, but can discover no\nray of hope.  Fervent prayer has availed us nothing; our lot is cast,\nand we must abide by it.  It must be God's will or He would have\nordained it differently.  Dearest Georgy, I am exceedingly sorry to\nleave you all, but I am mad--thoroughly mad.  You, dear, must try and\nforget us, and, if possible, forgive us; for I do not consider it our\nown fault we have not succeeded.  If you could get #3 for our bed it\nwill pay our rent, and our scanty furniture may fetch enough to bury us\nin a cheap way.  Don't grieve over us or follow us, for we shall not be\nworthy of such respect.  Our clergyman has never called on us or given\nus the least consolation, though I called on him a month ago.  He is\npaid to preach, and there he considers his responsibility ends, the\nrich excepted.  We have only yourself and a very few others who care\none pin what becomes of us, but you must try and forgive us, is the\nlast fervent prayer of your devotedly fond and affectionate but\nbroken-hearted and persecuted brother.\n(Signed)       R.  A.  O----.\n\nThat is an authentic human document--a transcript from the life of\none among thousands who go down inarticulate into the depths, They die\nand make no sign, or, worse still, they continue to exist, carrying\nabout with them, year after year, the bitter ashes of a life from which\nthe furnace of misfortune has burnt away all joy, and hope, and\nstrength.  Who is there who has not been confronted by many despairing\nones, who come, as Richard O---- went, to the clergyman, crying for\nhelp, and how seldom have we been able to give it them?  It is unjust,\nno doubt, for them to blame the clergy and the comfortable well-to-do\n--for what can they do but preach and offer good advice?  To assist\nall the Richard O----s' by direct financial advance would drag even\nRothschild into the gutter.  And what else can be done?  Yet something\nelse must be done if Christianity is not to be a mockery to perishing\nmen.\n\nHere is another case, a very common case, which illustrates how the\nArmy of Despair is recruited.\n\nMr. T., Margaret Place, Gascoign Place, Bethnal Green, is a bootmaker\nby trade.  Is a good hand, and has earned three shillings and sixpence\nto four shillings and sixpence a day.  He was taken ill last Christmas,\nand went to the London Hospital; was there three months.  A week after\nhe had gone Mrs. T. had rheumatic fever, and was taken to Bethnal\nGreen Infirmary, where she remained about three months.  Directly after\nthey had been taken ill, their furniture was seized for the three\nweeks' rent which was owing.  Consequently, on becoming convalescent,\nthey were homeless.  They came out about the same time.  He went out to\na lodging-house for a night or two, until she came out.  He then had\ntwopence, and she had sixpence, which a nurse had given her.  They went\nto a lodging-house together, but the society there was dreadful.\nNext day he had a day's work, and got two shillings and sixpence, and\non the strength of this they took a furnished room at tenpence per day\n(payable nightly).  His work lasted a few weeks, when he was again\ntaken ill, lost his job, and spent all their money.  Pawned a shirt and\napron for a shilling; spent that, too.  At last pawned their tools for\nthree shillings, which got them a few days' food and lodging.  He is\nnow minus tools and cannot work at his own job, and does anything he\ncan.  Spent their last twopence on a pen'orth each of tea and sugar.\nIn two days they had a slice of bread and butter each, that's all.\nThey are both very weak through want of food.\n\n\"Let things alone,\" the laws of supply and demand, and all the rest\nof the excuses by which those who stand on firm ground salve their\nconsciences when they leave their brother to sink, how do they look\nwhen we apply them to the actual loss of life at sea?  Does \"Let things\nalone\" man the lifeboat?  Will the inexorable laws of political economy\nsave the shipwrecked sailor from the boiling surf?  They often enough\nare responsible for his disaster.  Coffin ships are a direct result of\nthe wretched policy of non-interference with the legitimate operations\nof commerce, but no desire to make it pay created the National Lifeboat\nInstitution, no law of supply and demand actuates the volunteers who\nrisk their lives to bring the shipwrecked to shore.\n\nWhat we have to do is to apply the same principle to society.  We want\na Social Lifeboat Institution, a Social Lifeboat Brigade, to snatch\nfrom the abyss those who, if left to themselves, will perish as\nmiserably as the crew of a ship that founders in mid-ocean.\n\nThe moment that we take in hand this work we shall be compelled to turn\nour attention seriously to the question whether prevention is not\nbetter than cure.  It is easier and cheaper, and in every way better,\nto prevent the loss of home than to have to re-create that home.\nIt is better to keep a man out of the mire than to let him fall in\nfirst and then risk the chance of plucking him out.  Any Scheme,\ntherefore, that attempts to deal with the reclamation of the lost must\ntend to develop into an endless variety of ameliorative measures, of\nsome of which I shall have somewhat to say hereafter.  I only mention\nthe subject here in order that no one may say I am blind to the\nnecessity of going further and adopting wider plans of operation than\nthose which I put forward in this book.  The renovation of our Social\nSystem is a work so vast that no one of us, nor all of us put together,\ncan define all the measures that will have to be taken before we attain\neven the Cab-Horse Ideal of existence for our children and children's\nchildren.  All that we can do is to attack, in a serious, practical\nspirit the worst and most pressing evils, knowing that if we do our\nduty we obey the voice of God.  He is the Captain of our Salvation.\nIf we but follow where He leads we shall not want for marching orders,\nnor need we imagine that He will narrow the field of operations.\n\nI am labouring under no delusions as to the possibility of inaugurating\nthe Millennium by any social specific.  In the struggle of life the\nweakest will go to the wall, and there are so many weak.  The fittest,\nin tooth and claw, will survive.  All that we can do is to soften the\nlot of the unfit and make their suffering less horrible than it is at\npresent.  No amount of assistance will give a jellyfish a backbone.\nNo outside propping will make some men stand erect.  All material help\nfrom without is useful only in so far as it develops moral strength\nwithin.  And some men seem to have lost even the very faculty of\nself-help.  There is an immense lack of common sense and of vital\nenergy on the part of multitudes.\n\nIt is against Stupidity in every shape and form that we have to wage\nour eternal battle.  But how can we wonder at the want of sense on the\npart of those who have had no advantages, when we see such plentiful\nabsence of that commodity on the part of those who have had all the\nadvantages?\n\nHow can we marvel if, after leaving generation after generation to grow\nup uneducated and underfed, there should be developed a heredity of\nincapacity, and that thousands of dull-witted people should be born\ninto the world, disinherited before their birth of their share in the\naverage intelligence of mankind?\n\nBesides those who are thus hereditarily wanting in the qualities\nnecessary to enable them to hold their own, there are the weak, the\ndisabled, the aged, and the unskilled; worse than all, there is the\nwant of character.  Those who have the best of reputation, if they lose\ntheir foothold on the ladder, find it difficult enough to regain their\nplace.  What, then, can men and women who have no character do?  When a\nmaster has the choice of a hundred honest men, is it reasonable to\nexpect that he will select a poor fellow with  tarnished reputation?\nAll this is true, and it is one of the things that makes the problem\nalmost insoluble.  And insoluble it is, I am absolutely convinced\nunless it is possible to bring new moral life into the soul of these\npeople.  This should be the first object of every social reformer,\nwhose work will only last if it is built on the solid foundation of a\nnew birth, to cry \"You must be born again.\"\n\nTo get a man soundly saved it is not enough to put on him a pair of new\nbreeches, to give him regular work, or even to give him a University\neducation.  These things are all outside a man, and if the inside\nremains unchanged you have wasted your labour.  You must in some way or\nother graft upon the man's nature a new nature, which has in it the\nelement of the Divine.  All that I propose in this book is governed by\nthat principle.\n\nThe difference between the method which seeks to regenerate the man by\nameliorating his circumstances and that which ameliorates his\ncircumstances in order to get at the regeneration of his heart, is the\ndifference between the method of the gardener who grafts a Ribstone\nPippin on a crab-apple tree and one who merely ties apples with string\nupon the branches of the crab.  To change the nature of the individual,\nto get at the heart, to save his soul is the only real, lasting method\nof doing him any good.  In many modern schemes of social regeneration\nit is forgotten that \"it takes a soul to move a body, e'en to a cleaner\nsty,\" and at the risk of being misunderstood and misrepresented, I must\nassert in the most unqualified way that it is primarily and mainly for\nthe sake of saving the soul that I seek the salvation of the body.\n\nBut what is the use of preaching the Gospel to men whose whole\nattention is concentrated upon a mad, desperate struggle to keep\nthemselves alive?  You might as well give a tract to a shipwrecked\nsailor who is battling with the surf which has drowned his comrades and\nthreatens to drown him.  He will not listen to you.  Nay, he cannot\nhear you any more than a man whose head is underwater can listen to a\nsermon.  The first thing to do is to get him at least a footing on firm\nground, and to give him room to live.  Then you may have a chance.\nAt present you have none.  And you will have all the better opportunity\nto find a way to his heart, if he comes to know that it was you who\npulled him out of the horrible pit and the miry clay in which he was\nsinking to perdition.\n\n\nCHAPTER 6.  THE VICIOUS.\n\nThere are many vices and seven deadly sins.  But of late years many of\nthe seven have contrived to pass themselves off as virtues.  Avarice,\nfor instance; and Pride, when re-baptised thrift and self-respect, have\nbecome the guardian angels of Christian civilisation; and as for Envy,\nit is the corner-stone upon which much of our competitive system is\nfounded.  There are still two vices which are fortunate, or\nunfortunate, enough to remain undisguised, not even concealing from\nthemselves the fact that they are vices and not virtues.  One is\ndrunkenness; the other fornication.  The viciousness of these vices is\nso little disguised, even from those who habitually practise them, that\nthere will be a protest against merely describing one of them by the\nright Biblical name.  Why not say prostitution?  For this reason:\nprostitution is a word applied to only one half of the vice, and that\nthe most pitiable.  Fornication hits both sinners alike.  Prostitution\napplies only to the woman.\n\nWhen, however, we cease to regard this vice from the point of view of\nmorality and religion, and look at it solely as a factor in the social\nproblem, the word prostitution is less objectionable.  For the social\nburden of this vice is borne almost entirely by women.  The male sinner\ndoes not, by the mere fact of his sin, find himself in a worse position\nin obtaining employment, in finding a home, or even in securing a wife.\nHis wrong-doing only hits him in his purse, or, perhaps, in his health.\nHis incontinence, excepting so far as it relates to the woman whose\ndegradation it necessitates, does not add to the number of those for\nwhom society has to provide.  It is an immense addition to the infamy\nof this vice in man that its consequences have to be borne almost\nexclusively by woman.  The difficulty of dealing with drunkards and\nharlots is almost insurmountable.  Were it not that I utterly repudiate\nas a fundamental denial of the essential principle of the Christian\nreligion the popular pseudo-scientific doctrine that any man or woman\nis past saving by the grace of God and the power of the Holy Spirit,\nI would sometimes be disposed to despair when contemplating these\nvictims of the Devil.  The doctrine of Heredity and the suggestion of\nIrresponsibility come perilously near re-establishing, on scientific\nbases, the awful dogma of Reprobation which has cast so terrible a\nshadow over the Christian Church.  For thousands upon thousands of\nthese poor wretches are, as Bishop South truly said, \"not so much born\ninto this world as damned into it.\"  The bastard of a harlot, born in a\nbrothel, suckled on gin, and familiar from earliest infancy with all\nthe bestialities of debauch, violated before she is twelve, and driven\nout into the streets by her mother a year or two later, what chance is\nthere for such a girl in this world--I say nothing about the next?\nYet such a case is not exceptional.  There are many such differing in\ndetail, but in essentials the same.  And with boys it is almost as bad.\nThere are thousands who were begotten when both parents were besotted\nwith drink, whose mothers saturated themselves with alcohol every day\nof their pregnancy, who may be said to have sucked in a taste for\nstrong drink with their mothers' milk, and who were surrounded from\nchildhood with opportunities and incitements to drink.  How can we\nmarvel that the constitution thus disposed to intemperance finds the\nstimulus of drink indispensable?  Even if they make a stand against it,\nthe increasing pressure of exhaustion and of scanty food drives them\nback to the cup.  Of these poor wretches, born slaves of the bottle,\npredestined to drunkenness from their mother's womb, there are--who\ncan say how many?  Yet they are all men; all with what the Russian\npeasants call \"a spark of God\" in them, which can never be wholly\nobscured and destroyed while life exists, and if any social scheme is\nto be comprehensive and practical it must deal with these men.  It must\nprovide for the drunkard and the harlot as it provides for the\nimprovident and the out-of-work.  But who is sufficient for these\nthings?\n\nI will take the question of the drunkard, for the drink difficulty lies\nat the root of everything.  Nine-tenths of our poverty, squalor, vice,\nand crime spring from this poisonous tap-root.  Many of our social\nevils, which overshadow the land like so many upas trees, would dwindle\naway and die if they were not constantly watered with strong drink.\nThere is universal agreement on that point; in fact, the agreement as\nto the evils of intemperance is almost as universal as the conviction\nthat politicians will do nothing practical to interfere with them.\nIn Ireland, Mr. Justice Fitzgerald says that intemperance leads to\nnineteen-twentieths of the crime in that country, but no one proposes a\nCoercion Act to deal with that evil.  In England, the judges all say\nthe same thing.  Of course it is a mistake to assume that a murder, for\ninstance, would never be committed by sober men, because murderers in\nmost cases prime themselves for their deadly work by a glass of Dutch\ncourage.  But the facility of securing a reinforcement of passion\nundoubtedly tends to render always dangerous, and sometimes\nirresistible, the temptation to violate the laws of God and man.\n\nMere lectures against the evil habit are, however, of no avail.\nWe have to recognise, that the gin-palace, like many other evils,\nalthough a poisonous, is still a natural outgrowth of our social\nconditions.  The tap-room in many cases is the poor man's only parlour.\nMany a man takes to beer, not from the love of beer, but from a natural\ncraving for the light, warmth, company, and comfort which is thrown in\nalong with the beer, and which he cannot get excepting by buying beer.\nReformers will never get rid of the drink shop until they can outbid it\nin the subsidiary attractions which it offers to its customers.\nThen, again, let us never forget that the temptation to drink is\nstrongest when want is sharpest and misery the most acute.  A well-fed\nman is not driven to drink by the craving that torments the hungry; and\nthe comfortable do not crave for the boon of forgetfulness.  Gin is the\nonly Lethe of the miserable.  The foul and poisoned air of the dens in\nwhich thousands live predisposes to a longing for stimulant.\nFresh air, with its oxygen and its ozone, being lacking, a man supplies\nthe want with spirit.  After a time the longing for drink becomes a\nmania.  Life seems as insupportable without alcohol as without food.\nIt is a disease often inherited, always developed by indulgence, but as\nclearly a disease as ophthalmia or stone.\n\nAll this should predispose us to charity and sympathy.\nWhile recognising that the primary responsibility must always rest upon\nthe individual, we may fairly insist that society, which, by its\nhabits, its customs, and its laws, has greased the slope down which\nthese poor creatures slide to perdition, shall seriously take in hand\ntheir salvation.  How many are there who are, more or less, under the\ndominion of strong drink?  Statistics abound, but they seldom tell us\nwhat we want to know.  We know how many public-houses there are in the\nland, and how many arrests for drunkenness the police make in a year;\nbut beyond that we know little.  Everyone knows that for one man who is\narrested for drunkenness there are at least ten and often twenty--who\ngo home intoxicated.  In London, for instance, there are 14,000 drink\nshops, and every year 20,000 persons are arrested for drunkenness.  But\nwho can for a moment believe that there are only 20,000, more or less,\nhabitual drunkards in London?  By habitual drunkard I do not mean one\nwho is always drunk, but one who is so much under the dominion of the\nevil habit that he cannot be depended upon not to get drunk whenever\nthe opportunity offers.\n\nIn the United Kingdom there are 190,000 public-houses, and every year\nthere are 200,000 arrests for drunkenness.  Of course, several of these\narrests refer to the same person, who is locked up again and again.\nWere this not so, if we allowed six drunkards to each house as an\naverage, or five habitual drunkards for one arrested for drunkenness,\nwe should arrive at a total of a million adults who are more or less\nprisoners of the publican--as a matter of fact, Isaac Hoyle gives\n1 in 12 of the adult population.  This may be an excessive estimate,\nbut, if we take half of a million, we shall not be accused of\nexaggeration.  Of these some are in the last stage of confirmed\ndipsomania; others are but over the verge; but the procession tends\never downwards.\n\nThe loss which the maintenance of this huge standing army of a half of\na million of men who are more or less always besotted men whose\nintemperance impairs their working power, consumes their earnings, and\nrenders their homes wretched, has long been a familiar theme of the\nplatform.  But what can be done for them?  Total abstinence is no doubt\nadmirable, but how are you to get them to be totally abstinent?  When a\nman is drowning in mid-ocean the one thing that is needful, no doubt,\nis that he should plant his feet firmly on terra firma.  But how is he\nto get there?  It is just what he cannot do.  And so it is with the\ndrunkards.  If they are to be rescued there must be something more done\nfor them than at present is attempted, unless, of course, we decide\ndefinitely to allow the iron laws of nature to work themselves out in\ntheir destruction.  In that case it might be more merciful to\nfacilitate the slow workings of natural law.  There is no need of\nestablishing a lethal chamber for drunkards like that into which the\nlost dogs of London are driven, to die in peaceful sleep under the\ninfluence of carbonic oxide.  The State would only need to go a little\nfurther than it goes at present in the way of supplying poison to the\ncommunity.  If, in addition to planting a flaming gin palace at each\ncorner, free to all who enter, it were to supply free gin to all who\nhave attained a certain recognised standard of inebriety, delirium\ntremens would soon reduce our drunken population to manageable\nproportions.  I can imagine a cynical millionaire of the scientific\nphilanthropic school making a clearance of all the drunkards in a\ndistrict by the simple expedient of an unlimited allowance of alcohol.\nBut that for us is out of the question.  The problem of what to do with\nour half of a million drunkards remains to be solved, and few more\ndifficult questions confront the social reformer.\n\nThe question of the harlots is, however, quite as insoluble by the\nordinary methods.  For these unfortunates no one who looks below the\nsurface can fail to have the deepest sympathy.  Some there are, no\ndoubt, perhaps many, who--whether from inherited passion or from evil\neducation--have deliberately embarked upon a life of vice, but with\nthe majority it is not so.  Even those who deliberately and of free\nchoice adopt the profession of a prostitute, do so under the stress of\ntemptations which few moralists seem to realise.  Terrible as the fact\nis, there is no doubt it is a fact that there is no industrial career\nin which for a short time a beautiful girl can make as much money with\nas little trouble as the profession of a courtesan.  The case recently\ntried at the Lewes assizes, in which the wife of an officer in the army\nadmitted that while living as a kept mistress she had received as much\nas #4,000 a year, was no doubt very exceptional.  Even the most\nsuccessful adventuresses seldom make the income of a Cabinet Minister.\nBut take women in professions and in businesses all round, and the\nnumber of young women who have received #500 in one year for the sale\nof their person is larger than the number of women of all ages who make\na similar sum by honest industry.  It is only the very few who draw\nthese gilded prizes, and they only do it for a very short time.  But it\nis the few prizes in every profession which allure the multitude, who\nthink little of the many blanks.  And speaking broadly, vice offers to\nevery good-looking girl during the first bloom of her youth and beauty\nmore money than she can earn by labour in any field of industry open to\nher sex.  The penalty exacted afterwards is disease, degradation and\ndeath, but these things at first are hidden from her sight.\n\nThe profession of a prostitute is the only career in which the maximum\nincome is paid to the newest apprentice.  It is the one calling in\nwhich at the beginning the only exertion is that of self-indulgence;\nall the prizes are at the commencement.  It is the ever new embodiment\nof the old fable of the sale of the soul to the Devil.  The tempter\noffers wealth, comfort, excitement, but in return the victim must sell\nher soul, nor does the other party forget to exact his due to the\nuttermost farthing.  Human nature, however, is short-sighted.\nGiddy girls, chafing against the restraints of uncongenial industry,\nsee the glittering bait continually before them.  They are told that if\nthey will but \"do as others do\" they will make more in a night, if they\nare lucky, than they can make in a week at their sewing; and who can\nwonder that in many cases the irrevocable step is taken before they\nrealise that it is irrevocable, and that they have bartered away the\nfuture of their lives for the paltry chance of a year's ill-gotten\ngains?\n\nOf the severity of the punishment there can be no question.  If the\npremium is high at the beginning, the penalty is terrible at the close.\nAnd this penalty is exacted equally from those who have deliberately\nsaid, \"Evil, be thou my Good,\" and for those who have been decoyed,\nsnared, trapped into the life which is a living death.  When you see a\ngirl on the street you can never say without enquiry whether she is one\nof the most-to-be condemned, or the most-to-be pitied of her sex.\nMany of them find themselves where they are because of a too trusting\ndisposition, confidence born of innocence being often the unsuspecting\nally of the procuress and seducer.  Others are as much the innocent\nvictims of crime as if they had been stabbed or maimed by the dagger of\nthe assassin.  The records of our Rescue Homes abound with\nlife-stories, some of which we have been able to verify to the letter\n--which prove only too conclusively the existence of numbers of\ninnocent victims whose entry upon this dismal life can in no way be\nattributed to any act of their own will.  Many are orphans or the\nchildren of depraved mothers, whose one idea of a daughter is to make\nmoney out of her prostitution.  Here are a few cases on our register: --\n\nE. C., aged 18, a soldier's child, born on the sea.  Her father died,\nand her mother, a thoroughly depraved woman, assisted to secure her\ndaughter's prostitution.\n\nP. S., aged 20, illegitimate child.  Went to consult a doctor one time\nabout some ailment.  The doctor abused his position and took advantage\nof his patient, and when she complained, gave her #4 as compensation.\nWhen that was spent, having lost her character, she came on the town.\nWe looked the doctor up, and he fled.\n\nE. A., aged 17, was left an orphan very early in life, and adopted by\nher godfather, who himself was the means of her ruin at the age of 10.\n\nA girl in her teens lived with her mother in the \"Dusthole,\" the lowest\npart of Woolwich.  This woman forced her out upon the streets, and\nprofited by her prostitution up to the very night of her confinement.\nThe mother had all the time been the receiver of the gains.\n\nE., neither father nor mother, was taken care of by a grandmother till,\nat an early age, accounted old enough.  Married a soldier; but shortly\nbefore the birth of her first child, found that her deceiver had a wife\nand family in a distant part of the country, and she was soon left\nfriendless and alone.  She sought an asylum in the Workhouse for a few\nweeks' after which she vainly tried to get honest employment.  Failing\nthat, and being on the very verge of starvation, she entered a\nlodging-house in Westminster and \"did as other girls.\"  Here our\nlieutenant found and persuaded her to leave and enter one of our Homes,\nwhere she soon gave abundant proof of her conversion by a thoroughly\nchanged life.  She is now a faithful and trusted servant in a\nclergyman's family.\n\nA girl was some time ago discharged from a city hospital after an\nillness.  She was homeless and friendless, an orphan, and obliged to\nwork for her living.  Walking down the street and wondering what she\nshould do next, she met a girl, who came up to her in a most friendly\nfashion and speedily won her confidence.\n\n\"Discharged ill, and nowhere to go, are you?\" said her new friend.\n\"Well, come home to my mother's; she will lodge you, and we'll go to\nwork together, when you are quite strong.\"\n\nThe girl consented gladly, but found herself conducted to the very\nlowest part of Woolwich and ushered into a brothel; there was no mother\nin the case.  She was hoaxed, and powerless to resist.\nHer protestations were too late to save her, and having had her\ncharacter forced from her she became hopeless, and stayed on to live\nthe life of her false friend.\n\nThere is no need for me to go into the details of the way in which men\nand women, whose whole livelihood depends upon their success in\ndisarming the suspicions of their victims and luring them to their\ndoom, contrive to overcome the reluctance of the young girl without\nparents, friends, or helpers to enter their toils.  What fraud fails to\naccomplish, a little force succeeds in effecting; and a girl who has\nbeen guilty of nothing but imprudence finds herself an outcast for\nlife.  The very innocence of a girl tells against her.  A woman of the\nworld, once entrapped, would have all her wits about her to extricate\nherself from the position in which she found herself.  A perfectly\nvirtuous girl is often so overcome with shame and horror that there\nseems nothing in life worth struggling for.  She accepts her doom\nwithout further struggle, and treads the long and torturing path-way of\n\"the streets\" to the grave.\n\n\"Judge not, that ye be not judged\" is a saying that applies most\nappropriately of all to these unfortunates.  Many of them would have\nescaped their evil fate had they been less innocent.  They are where\nthey are because they loved too utterly to calculate consequences, and\ntrusted too absolutely to dare to suspect evil.  And others are there\nbecause of the false education which confounds ignorance with virtue,\nand throws our young people into the midst of a great city, with all\nits excitements and all its temptations, without more preparation or\nwarning than if they were going to live in the Garden of Eden.\n\nWhatever sin they have committed, a terrible penalty is exacted.\nWhile the man who caused their ruin passes as a respectable member of\nsociety, to whom virtuous matrons gladly marry--if he is rich--\ntheir maiden daughters, they are crushed beneath the millstone of\nsocial excommunication.  Here let me quote from a report made to me by\nthe head of our Rescue Homes as to the actual life of these\nunfortunates.\n\nThe following hundred cases are taken as they come from our Rescue\nRegister.  The statements are those of the girls themselves.  They are\ncertainly frank, and it will be noticed that only two out of the\nhundred allege that they took to the life out of poverty: --\n\n CAUSE OF FALL.\n\n Drink    ..   ..   ..   14\n Seduction     ..   ..   33\n Wilful choice ..   ..   24\n Bad company   ..   ..   27\n Poverty  ..   ..   ..    2\n                       ----\n                Total   100\n\n\n CONDITION WHEN APPLYING.\n\n Rags..    ..    ..   25\n Destitution     ..   27\n Decently dressed     48\n                    ----\n             Total   100\n\nOut of these girls twenty-three have been in prison.  The girls suffer\nso much that the shortness of their miserable life is the only\nredeeming feature.  Whether we look at the wretchedness of the life\nitself; their perpetual intoxication; the cruel treatment to which they\nare subjected by their task-masters and mistresses or bullies; the\nhopelessness, suffering and despair induced by their circumstances and\nsurroundings; the depths of misery, degradation and poverty to which\nthey eventually descend; or their treatment in sickness, their\nfriendlessness and loneliness in death, it must be admitted that a more\ndismal lot seldom falls to the fate of a human being.  I will take each\nof these in turn.\n\nHEALTH.--This life induces insanity, rheumatism, consumption, and\nall forms of syphilis.  Rheumatism and gout are the commonest of these\nevils.  Some were quite crippled by both--young though they were.\nConsumption sows its seeds broadcast.  The life is a hot-bed for the\ndevelopment of any constitutional and hereditary germs of the disease.\nWe have found girls in Piccadilly at midnight who are continually\nprostrated by haemorrhage, yet who have no other way of life open, so\nstruggle on in this awful manner between whiles.\n\nDRINK.--This is an inevitable part of the business.  All Confess\nthat they could never lead their miserable lives if it were not for its\ninfluence.\n\nA girl, who was educated at college, and who had a home in which was\nevery comfort, but who, when ruined, had fallen even to the depth of\nWoolwich \"Dusthole,\" exclaimed to us indignantly--\"Do you think I\ncould ever, ever do this if it weren't for the drink?  I always have to\nbe in drink if I want to sin.\"  No girl has ever come into our Homes\nfront street-life but has been more or less a prey to drink.\n\nCRUEL TREATMENT.--The devotion of these women to their bullies is as\nremarkable as the brutality of their bullies is abominable.  Probably\nthe primary cause of the fall of numberless girls of the lower class,\nis their great aspiration to the dignity of wifehood;--they are never\n\"somebody\" until they are married, and will link themselves to any\ncreature, no matter how debased, in the hope of being ultimately\nmarried by him.  This consideration, in addition to their helpless\ncondition when once character has gone, makes them suffer cruelties\nwhich they would never otherwise endure from the men with whom large\nnumbers of them live.\n\nOne case in illustration of this is that of a girl who was once a\nrespectable servant, the daughter of a police sergeant.  She was\nruined, and shame led her to leave home.  At length she drifted to\nWoolwich, where she came across a man who persuaded her to live with\nhim, and for a considerable length of time she kept him, although his\nconduct to her was brutal in the extreme.\n\nThe girl living in the next room to her has frequently heard him knock\nher head against the wall, and pound it, when he was out of temper,\nthrough her gains of prostitution being less than usual.  He lavished\nupon her every sort of cruelty and abuse, and at length she grew so\nwretched, and was reduced to so dreadful a plight, that she ceased to\nattract.  At this he became furious, and pawned all her clothing but\none thin garment of rags.  The week before her first confinement he\nkicked her black and blue from neck to knees, and she was carried to\nthe police station in a pool of blood, but; she was so loyal to the\nwretch that she refused to appear against him.\n\nShe was going to drown herself in desperation, when our Rescue Officers\nspoke to her, wrapped their own shawl around her shivering shoulders,\ntook her home with them, and cared for her.  The baby was born dead--\na tiny, shapeless mass.  This state of things is all too common.\n\nHOPELESSNESS--SURROUNDINGS.--The state of hopelessness and despair\nin which these girls live continually, makes them reckless of\nconsequences, and large numbers commit suicide who are never heard of.\nA West End policeman assured us that the number of prostitute-suicides\nwas terribly in advance of anything guessed at by the public.\n\nDEPTHS TO WHICH THEY SINK.--There is Scarcely a lower class of girls\nto be found than the girls of Woolwich \"Dusthole\"--where one of our\nRescue Slum Homes is established.  The women living and following their\ndreadful business in this neighbourhood are so degraded that even\nabandoned men will refuse to accompany them home.  Soldiers are\nforbidden to enter the place, or to go down the street, on pain of\ntwenty-five days' imprisonment; pickets are stationed at either end to\nprevent this.  The streets are much cleaner than many of the rooms we\nhave seen.\n\nOne public house there is shut up three or four times in a day\nsometimes for fear of losing the licence through the terrible brawls\nwhich take place within.  A policeman never goes down this street alone\nat night--one having died not long ago from injuries received there\n--but our two lasses go unharmed and loved at all hours, spending\nevery other night always upon the streets.\n\nThe girls sink to the \"Dusthole\" after coming down several grades.\nThere is but one on record who came there with beautiful clothes, and\nthis poor girl, when last seen by the officers, was a pauper in the\nworkhouse infirmary in a wretched condition.  The lowest class of all\nis the girls who stand at the pier-head--these sell themselves\nliterally for a bare crust of bread and sleep in the streets.  Filth\nand vermin abound to an extent to which no one who has not seen it can\nhave any idea.  The \"Dusthole\" is only one, alas of many similar\ndistricts in this highly civilised land.\n\nSICKNESS, FRIENDLESSNESS--DEATH.--In hospitals it is a known fact\nthat these girls are not treated at all like other cases; they inspire\ndisgust, and are most frequently discharged before being really cured.\nScorned by their relations, and ashamed to make their case known even\nto those who would help them, unable longer to struggle out on the\nstreets to earn the bread of shame, there are girls lying in many a\ndark hole in this big city positively rotting away, and maintained by\ntheir old companions on the streets.  Many are totally friendless,\nutterly cast out and left to perish by relatives and friends.  One of\nthis class came to us, sickened and died, and we buried her, being her\nonly followers to the grave.\n\nIt is a sad story, but one that must not be forgotten, for these women\nconstitute a large standing army whose numbers no one can calculate.\nAll estimates that I have seem purely imaginary.  The ordinary figure\ngiven for London is from 60,000 to 80,000.  This maybe true if it is\nmeant to include all habitually unchaste women.  It is a monstrous\nexaggeration if it is meant to apply to those who make their living\nsolely and habitually by prostitution.  These figures, however, only\nconfuse.  We shall have to deal with hundreds every month, whatever\nestimate we take.  How utterly unprepared society is for any such\nsystematic reformation may be seen from the fact that even now at our\nHomes we are unable to take in all the girls who apply.  They cannot\nescape, even if they would, for want of funds whereby to provide them a\nway of release.\n\n\nCHAPTER 7.  THE CRIMINALS.\n\nOne very important section of the denizens of Darkest England are the\ncriminals and the semi-criminals.  They are more or less predatory,\nand are at present shepherded by the police and punished by the gaoler.\nTheir numbers cannot be ascertained with very great precision, but the\nfollowing figures are taken from the prison returns of 1889: --\n\nThe criminal classes of Great Britain, in round figures, sum up a total\nof no less than 90,000 persons, made up as follows: --\n\n Convict prisons contain..   ..   ..   ..   ..   ..   11,660 persons\n Local   prisons contain..   ..   ..   ..   ..   ..   20,883   ,,\n Reformatories for children convicted of crime   ..    1,270   ,,\n Industrial schools for vagrant\n     and refractory children ..   ..   ..   ..   ..   21,413   ,,\n Criminal lunatics under restraint..   ..   ..   ..      910   ,,\n Known thieves at large ..   ..   ..   ..   ..   ..   14,747   ,,\n Known receivers of stolen goods  ..   ..   ..   ..    1,121   ,,\n Suspected persons  ..   ..   ..   ..   ..   ..   ..  17,042   ,,\n                                                     -------\n                                               Total  89,046\n                                                     -------\n\nThe above does not include the great army of known prostitutes, nor the\nkeepers and owners of brothels and disorderly houses, as to whose\nnumbers Government is rigidly silent.  These figures are, however,\nmisleading.  They only represent the criminals actually in gaol on a\ngiven day.  The average gaol population in England and Wales, excluding\nthe convict establishments, was, in 1889, 15,119 but the total number\nactually sentenced and imprisoned in local prisons was 153,000, of whom\n25,000 only came on first term sentences; 76,300 of them had been\nconvicted at least 10 times.  But even if we suppose that the criminal\nclass numbers no more than 90,000, of whom only 35,000 persons are at\nlarge, it is still a large enough section of humanity to compel\nattention.  90,000 criminals represents a wreckage whose cost to the\ncommunity is very imperfectly estimated when we add up the cost of the\nprisons, even if we add to them the whole cost of the police.\nThe police have so many other duties besides the shepherding of\ncriminals that it is unfair to saddle the latter with the whole of the\ncost of the constabulary.  The cost of prosecution and maintenance of\ncriminals, and the expense of the police involves an annual outlay of\n#4,437,000.  This, however, is small compared with the tax and toll\nwhich this predatory horde inflicts upon the community on which it is\nquartered.  To the loss caused by the actual picking and stealing must\nbe added that of the unproductive labour of nearly 65,000 adults.\nDependent upon these criminal adults must be at least twice as many\nwomen and children, so that it is probably an under-estimate to say\nthat this list of criminals and semi-criminals represents a population\nof at least 200,000, who all live more or less at the expense of\nsociety.\n\nEvery year, in the Metropolitan district alone, 66,100 persons are\narrested, of whom 444 are arrested for trying to commit suicide--life\nhaving become too unbearable a burden.  This immense population is\npartially, no doubt, bred to prison, the same as other people are bred\nto the army and to the bar.  The hereditary criminal is by no means\nconfined to India, although it is only in that country that they have\nthe engaging simplicity to describe themselves frankly in the census\nreturns.  But it is recruited constantly from the outside.  In many\ncases this is due to sheer starvation.  Fathers of the Church have laid\ndown the law that a man who is in peril of death from hunger is\nentitled to take bread wherever he can find it to keep body and soul\ntogether.  That proposition is not embodied in our jurisprudence.\nAbsolute despair drives many a man into the ranks of the criminal\nclass, who would never have fallen into the category of criminal\nconvicts if adequate provision had been made for  the rescue of those\ndrifting to doom.  When once he has fallen, circumstances seem to\ncombine to keep him there.  As wounded and sickly stags  are gored to\ndeath by their fellows, so the unfortunate who bears the prison brand\nis hunted from pillar to post, until he despairs of ever regaining his\nposition, and oscillates between one prison and another for the rest of\nhis days.  I gave in a preceding page an account of how a man, after\ntrying in vain to get work, fell before the temptation to steal in\norder to escape starvation.  Here is the sequel of that man's story.\nAfter he had stolen he ran away, and thus describes his experiences: --\n\n\"To fly was easy.  To get away from the scene required very little\ningenuity, but the getting away from one suffering brought another.\nA straight look from a stranger; a quick step behind me, sent a chill\nthrough every nerve.  The cravings of hunger had been satisfied, but it\nwas the cravings of conscience that were clamorous now.  It was easy to\nget away from the earthly consequences of sin, but from the fact--\nnever.  And yet it was the compulsion of circumstances that made me a\ncriminal.  It was neither from inward viciousness or choice, and how\nbitterly did I cast reproach on society for allowing such an\nalternative to offer itself--'to Steal or Starve,' but there was\nanother alternative that here offered itself--either give myself up,\nor go on with the life of crime.  I chose the former.  I had travelled\nover 100 miles to get away from the scene of my theft, and I now find\nmyself outside the station house at a place where I had put in my\nboyhood days.\n\n\"How many times when a lad, with wondering eyes, and a heart stirred\nwith childhood's pure sympathy, I had watched the poor waifs from time\nto time led within its doors.  It was my turn now.  I entered the\ncharge room, and with business-like precision disclosed my errand, viz.\nthat I wished to surrender myself for having committed a felony.\nMy story was doubted.  Question followed question, and confirmation\nmust be waited.  'Why had I surrendered?' 'I was a rum'un.' 'Cracked.'\n'More fool than rogue.' 'He will be sorry when he mounts the wheel.'\nThese and such like remarks were handed round concerning me.  An hour\npassed by.  An inspector enters, and announces the receipt of a\ntelegram.  'It is all right.  You can put him down.' And turning to me,\nhe said, 'They will send for you on Monday,' and then I passed into\nthe inner ward, and a cell.  The door closed with a harsh, grating\nclang, and I was left to face the most clamorous accuser of all--\nmy own interior self'\n\n\"Monday morning, the door opened, and a complacent detective stood\nbefore me.  Who can tell the feeling as the handcuffs closed round my\nwrists, and we started for town.  As again the charge was entered, and\nthe passing of another night in the cell; then the morning of the day\narrived.  The gruff, harsh 'Come on' of the gaoler roused me, and the\nnext moment I found myself in the prison van, gazing through the\ncrevices of the floor, watching the stones flying as it were from\nbeneath our feet.  Soon the court-house was reached, and hustled into a\ncommon cell, I found myself amongst a crowd of boys and men, all bound\nfor the 'dock.' One by one the names are called, and the crowd is\ngradually thinning down, when the announcement of my own name fell on\nmy startled ear, and I found myself stumbling up the stairs, and\nfinding myself in daylight and the 'dock.' What a terrible ordeal it\nwas.  The ceremony was brief enough; 'Have you anything to say?'\n'Don't interrupt his Worship; prisoner!' 'Give over talking!'\n'A month's hard labour.' This is about all I heard, or at any rate\nrealised, until a vigorous push landed me into the presence of the\nofficer who booked the sentence, and then off I went to gaol.\nI need not linger over the formalities of the reception.  A nightmare\nseemed to have settled upon me as I passed into the interior of the\ncorrectional.\n\n\"I resigned my name, and I seemed to die to myself for henceforth.\n332B disclosed my identity to myself and others.\n\n\"Through all the weeks that followed I was like one in a dream.\nMeal times, resting hours, as did every other thing, came with\nclock-like precision.  At times I thought my mind had gone--so dull,\nso callous, so weary appeared the organs of the brain.  The harsh\norders of the gaolers; the droning of the chaplain in the chapel;\nthe enquiries of the chief warder or the governor in their periodical\nvisits,--all seemed so meaningless.\n\n\"As the day of my liberation drew near, the horrid conviction that\ncircumstances would perhaps compel me to return to prison haunted me,\nand so helpless did I feel at the prospects that awaited me outside,\nthat I dreaded release, which seemed but the facing of an unsympathetic\nworld.  The day arrived, and, strange as it may sound, it was with\nregret that I left my cell.  It had become my home, and no home waited\nme outside.\n\n\"How utterly crushed I felt; feelings of companionship had gone out to\nmy unfortunate fellow-prisoners, whom I had seen daily, but the sound\nof whose voices I had never heard, whilst outside friendships were\ndead, and companionships were for ever broken, and I felt as an outcast\nof society, with the mark of 'gaol bird' upon me, that I must cover my\nface, and stand aside and cry 'unclean.' Such were my feelings.\n\n\"The morning of discharge came, and I am once more on the streets.\nMy scanty means scarcely sufficient for two days' least needs.  Could I\nbrace myself to make another honest endeavour to start afresh?\nTry, indeed, I did.  I fell back upon my antecedents, and tried to cut\nthe dark passage out of my life, but straight came the questions to me\nat each application for employment, 'What have you been doing lately?'\n'Where have you been living?' If I evaded the question it caused doubt;\nif I answered, the only answer I could give was 'in gaol,' and that\nsettled my chances.\n\n\"What a comedy, after all, it appeared.  I remember the last words of\nthe chaplain before leaving the prison, cold and precise in their\nofficialism:  'Mind you never come back here again, young man.' And now,\nas though in response to my earnest effort to keep from going to\nprison, society, by its actions, cried out, 'Go back to gaol.  There\nare honest men enough to do our work without such as you.' \"Imagine,\nif you can, my condition.  At the end of a few days, black despair had\nwrapt itself around every faculty of mind and body.  Then followed\nseveral days and nights with scarcely a bit of food or a resting-place.\nI prowled the streets like a dog, with this difference, that the dog\nhas the chance of helping himself, and I had not.  I tried to forecast\nhow long starvation's fingers would be in closing round the throat they\nalready gripped.  So indifferent was I alike to man or God, as I waited\nfor the end.\"\n\nIn this dire extremity the writer found his way to one of our Shelters,\nand there found God and friends and hope, and once more got his feet on\nto the ladder which leads upward from the black gulf of starvation to\ncompetence and character, and usefulness and heaven.\n\nAs he was then, however, there are hundreds--nay, thousands--now.\nWho will give these men a helping hand?  What is to be done with them?\nWould it not be more merciful to kill them off at once instead of\nsternly crushing them out of all semblance of honest manhood?\nSociety recoils from such a short cut.  Her virtuous scruples reminds\nme of the subterfuge by which English law evaded the veto on torture.\nTorture was forbidden, but the custom of placing an obstinate witness\nunder a press and slowly crushing him within a hairbreadth of death was\nlegalised and practised.  So it is to-day.  When the criminal comes out\nof gaol the whole world is often but a press whose punishment is sharp\nand cruel indeed.  Nor can the victim escape even if he opens his mouth\nand speaks.\n\n\nCHAPTER 8.  THE CHILDREN OF THE LOST.\n\nWhatever may be thought of the possibility of doing anything with the\nadults, it is universally admitted that there is hope for the children.\n\"I regard the existing generation as lost,\" said a leading Liberal\nstatesman.  \"Nothing can be done with men and women who have grown up\nunder the present demoralising conditions.  My only hope is that the\nchildren may have a better chance.  Education will do much.\"\nBut unfortunately the demoralising circumstances of the children are\nnot being improved--are, indeed, rather, in many respects, being\nmade worse.  The deterioration of our population in large towns is one\nof the most undisputed facts of social economics.  The country is the\nbreeding ground of healthy citizens.  But for the constant influx of\nCountrydom, Cockneydom would long ere this have perished.\nBut unfortunately the country is being depopulated.  The towns, London\nespecially, are being gorged with undigested and indigestible masses of\nlabour, and, as the result, the children suffer grievously.\n\nThe town-bred child is at a thousand disadvantages compared with his\ncousin in the country.  But every year there are more town-bred\nchildren and fewer cousins in the country.  To rear healthy children\nyou want first a home; secondly, milk; thirdly, fresh air;\nand fourthly, exercise under the green trees and blue sky.  All these\nthings every country labourer's child possesses, or used to possess.\nFor the shadow of the City life lies now upon the fields, and even in\nthe remotest rural district the labourer who tends the cows is often\ndenied the milk which his children need.  The regular demand of the\ngreat towns forestalls the claims of the labouring hind.  Tea and slops\nand beer take the place of milk, and the bone and sinew of the next\ngeneration are sapped from the cradle.  But the country child, if he\nhas nothing but skim milk, and only a little of that, has at least\nplenty of exercise in the fresh air.  He has healthy human relations\nwith his neighbours.  He is looked after, and in some sort of fashion\nbrought into contact with the life of the hall, the vicarage, and the\nfarm.  He lives a natural life amid the birds and trees and growing\ncrops and the animals of the fields.  He is not a mere human ant,\ncrawling on the granite pavement of a great urban ants' nest, with an\nunnaturally developed nervous system and a sickly constitution.\n\nBut, it will be said, the child of to-day has the inestimable advantage\nof Education.  No; he has not.  Educated the children are not.\nThey are pressed through \"standards,\" which exact a certain\nacquaintance with A B C and pothooks and figures, but educated they are\nnot in the sense of the development of their latent capacities so as to\nmake them capable for the discharge of their duties in life.\nThe new generation can read, no doubt.  Otherwise, where would be the\nsale of \"Sixteen String Jack,\" \"Dick Turpin,\" and the like?  But take\nthe girls.  Who can pretend that the girls whom our schools are now\nturning out are half as well educated for the work of life as their\ngrandmothers were at the same age?  How many of all these mothers of\nthe future know how to bake a loaf or wash their clothes?  Except\nminding the baby--a task that cannot be evaded--what domestic\ntraining have they received to qualify them for being in the future the\nmothers of babies themselves?\n\nAnd even the schooling, such as it is, at what an expense is it often\nimparted!  The rakings of the human cesspool are brought into the\nschool-room and mixed up with your children.  Your little ones, who\nnever heard a foul word and who are not only innocent, but ignorant, of\nall the horrors of vice and sin, sit for hours side by side with little\nones whose parents are habitually drunk, and play with others whose\nideas of merriment are gained from the familiar spectacle of the\nnightly debauch by which their mothers earn the family bread.\nIt is good, no doubt, to learn the ABC, but it is not so good that in\nacquiring these indispensable rudiments, your children should also\nacquire the vocabulary of the harlot and the corner boy.  I speak only\nof what I know, and of  that which has been brought home to me as a\nmatter of repeated complaint by my Officers, when I say that the\nobscenity of the talk of many of the children of some of our public\nschools could hardly be outdone even in Sodom and Gomorrha.  Childish\ninnocence is very beautiful; but the bloom is soon destroyed, and it is\na cruel awakening for a mother to discover that her tenderly nurtured\nboy, or her carefully guarded daughter, has been initiated by a\ncompanion into the mysteries of abomination that are concealed in the\nphrase--a house of ill-fame.\n\nThe home is largely destroyed where the mother follows the father into\nthe factory, and where the hours of labour are so long that they have\nno time to see their children.  The omnibus drivers of London, for\ninstance, what time have they for discharging the daily duties of\nparentage to their little ones?  How can a man who is on his omnibus\nfrom fourteen to sixteen hours a day have time to be a father to his\nchildren in any sense of the word?  He has hardly a chance to see them\nexcept when they are asleep.  Even the Sabbath, that blessed\ninstitution which is one of the sheet anchors of human existence, is\nencroached upon.  Many of the new industries which have been started or\ndeveloped since I was a boy ignore man's need of one day's rest in\nseven.  The railway, the post-office, the tramway all compel some of\ntheir employes to be content with less than the divinely appointed\nminimum of leisure.  In the country darkness restores the labouring\nfather to his little ones.  In the town gas and the electric light\nenables the employer to rob the children of the whole of their father's\nwaking hours, and in some cases he takes the mother's also.  Under some\nof the conditions of modern industry, children are not so much born\ninto a home as they are spawned into the world like fish, with the\nresults which we see.\n\nThe decline of natural affection follows inevitably from the\nsubstitution of the fish relationship for that of the human.  A father\nwho never dandles his child on his knee cannot have a very keen sense\nof the responsibilities of paternity.  In the rush and pressure of our\ncompetitive City life, thousands of men have not time to be fathers.\nSires, yes; fathers, no.  It will take a good deal of schoolmaster to\nmake up for that change.  If this be the case, even with the children\nconstantly employed, it can be imagined what kind of a home life is\npossessed by the children of the tramp, the odd jobber, the thief, and\nthe harlot.  For all these people have children, although they have no\nhomes in which to rear them.  Not a bird in all the woods or fields but\nprepares some kind of a nest in which to hatch and rear its young, even\nif it be but a hole in the sand or a few crossed sticks in the bush.\nBut how many young ones amongst our people are hatched before any nest\nis ready to receive them?\n\nThink of the multitudes of children born in our workhouses, children of\nwhom it may be said \"they are conceived in sin and shapen in iniquity,\"\nand, as a punishment of the sins of the parents, branded from birth as\nbastards, worse than fatherless, homeless, and friendless, \"damned into\nan evil world,\" in which even those who have all the advantages of a\ngood parentage and a careful training find it hard enough to make their\nway.  Sometimes, it is true, the passionate love of the deserted mother\nfor the child which has been the visible symbol and the terrible result\nof her undoing stands between the little one and all its enemies.\nBut think how often the mother regards the advent of her child with\nloathing and horror; how the discovery that she is about to become a\nmother affects her like a nightmare; and how nothing but the dread of\nthe hangman's rope keeps her from strangling the babe on the very hour\nof its birth.  What chances has such a child?  And there are many such.\n\nIn a certain country that I will not name there exists a scientifically\narranged system of infanticide cloaked under the garb of philanthropy.\nGigantic foundling establishments exist in its principal cities, where\nevery comfort and scientific improvement is provided for the deserted\nchildren, with the result that one-half of them die.  The mothers are\nspared the crime.  The State assumes the responsibility.\nWe do something like that here, but our foundling asylums are the\nStreet, the Workhouse, and the Grave.  When an English Judge tells us,\nas Mr. Justice Wills did the other day, that there were any number of\nparents who would kill their children for a few pounds' insurance\nmoney, we can form some idea of the horrors of the existence into which\nmany of the children of this highly favoured land are ushered at their\nbirth.\n\nThe overcrowded homes of the poor compel the children to witness\neverything.  Sexual morality often comes to have no meaning to them.\nIncest is so familiar as hardly to call for remark.  The bitter poverty\nof the poor compels them to leave their children half fed.  There are\nfew more grotesque pictures in the history of civilisation than that of\nthe compulsory attendance of children at school, faint with hunger\nbecause they had no breakfast, and not sure whether they would even\nsecure a dry crust for dinner when their morning's quantum of education\nhad been duly imparted.  Children thus hungered, thus housed, and thus\nleft to grow up as best they can without being fathered or mothered,\nare not, educate them as you will, exactly the most promising material\nfor the making of the future citizens and rulers of the Empire.\n\nWhat, then, is the ground for hope that if we leave things alone the\nnew generation will be better than their elders?  To me it seems that\nthe truth is rather the other way.  The lawlessness of our lads the\nincreased license of our girls, the general shiftlessness from the\nhome-making point of view of the product of our factories and schools\nare far from reassuring.  Our young people have never learned to obey.\nThe fighting gangs of half-grown lads in Lisson Grove, and the\nscuttlers of Manchester are ugly symptoms of a social condition that\nwill not grow better by being left alone.\n\nIt is the home that has been destroyed, and with the home the home-like\nvirtues.  It is the dis-homed multitude, nomadic, hungry that is\nrearing an undisciplined population, cursed from birth with hereditary\nweakness of body and hereditary faults of character.  It is idle to\nhope to mend matters by taking the children and bundling them up in\nbarracks.  A child brought up in an institution is too often only\nhalf-human, having never known a mother's love and a father's care.\nTo men and women who are without homes children must be more or less of\nan incumbrance.  Their advent is regarded with impatience, and often it\nis averted by crime.  The unwelcome little stranger is badly cared for,\nbadly fed, and allowed every chance to die.  Nothing is worth doing to\nincrease his chances of living that does not Reconstitute the Home.\nBut between us and that ideal how vast is the gulf!  It will have to be\nbridged, however, if anything practical is to be done.\n\n\nCHAPTER 9.  IS THERE NO HELP?\n\nIt may be said by those who have followed me to this point that while\nit is quite true that there are many who are out of work, and not less\ntrue that there are many who sleep on the Embankment and elsewhere, the\nlaw has provided a remedy, or if not a remedy, at least a method, of\ndealing with these sufferers which is sufficient:  The Secretary of the\nCharity Organisation Society assured one of my Officers, who went to\ninquire for his opinion on the subject, \"that no further machinery was\nnecessary.  All that was needed in this direction they already had in\nworking order, and to create any further machinery would do more harm\nthan good.\"\n\nNow, what is the existing machinery by which Society, whether through\nthe organisation of the State, or by individual endeavour, attempts to\ndeal with the submerged residuum?  I had intended at one time to have\ndevoted considerable space to the description of the existing agencies,\ntogether with certain observations which have been forcibly impressed\nupon my mind as to their failure and its cause.  The necessity,\nhowever, of subordinating everything to the supreme purpose of this\nbook, which is to endeavour to show how light can be let into the heart\nof Darkest England, compels me to pass rapidly over this department of\nthe subject, merely glancing as I go at the well-meaning, but more or\nless abortive, attempts to cope with this great and appalling evil.\n\nThe first place must naturally be given to the administration of the\nPoor Law.  Legally the State accepts the responsibility of  providing\nfood and shelter for every man, woman, or child who is utterly\ndestitute.  This responsibility it, however, practically shirks  by the\nimposition of conditions on the claimants of relief that are hateful\nand repulsive, if not impossible.  As to the method of Poor Law\nadministration in dealing with inmates of workhouses or in the\ndistribution of outdoor relief, I say nothing.  Both of these raise\ngreat questions which lie outside my immediate purpose.  All that I\nneed to do is to indicate the limitations--it may be the necessary\nlimitations--under which the Poor Law operates.  No Englishman can\ncome upon the rates so long as he has anything whatever left to call\nhis own.  When long-continued destitution has been carried on to the\nbitter end, when piece by piece every article of domestic furniture\nhas been sold or pawned, when all efforts to procure employment have\nfailed, and when you have nothing left except the clothes in which you\nstand, then you can present yourself before the relieving officer and\nsecure your lodging in the workhouse, the administration of which\nvaries infinitely according to the disposition of the Board of\nGuardians under whose control it happens to be.\n\nIf, however, you have not sunk to such despair as to be willing to\nbarter your liberty for the sake of food, clothing, and shelter in the\nWorkhouse, but are only temporarily out of employment seeking work,\nthen you go to the Casual Ward.  There you are taken in, and provided\nfor on the principle of making it as disagreeable as possible for\nyourself, in order to deter you from again accepting the hospitality of\nthe rates,--and of course in defence of this a good deal can be said\nby the Political Economist. But what seems utterly indefensible is the\ncareful precautions which are taken to render it impossible for the\nunemployed Casual to resume promptly after his night's rest the search\nfor work.  Under the existing regulations, if you are compelled to seek\nrefuge on Monday night in the Casual Ward, you are bound to remain\nthere at least till Wednesday morning.\n\nThe theory of the system is this, that individuals casually poor and\nout of work, being destitute and without shelter, may upon application\nreceive shelter for the night, supper and a breakfast, and in return\nfor this, shall perform a task of work, not necessarily in repayment\nfor the relief received, but simply as a test of their willingness to\nwork for their living.  The work given is the same as that given to\nfelons in gaol, oakum-picking and stone-breaking.\n\nThe work, too, is excessive in proportion to what is received.\nFour pounds of oakum is a great task to an expert and an old hand.\nTo a novice it can only be accomplished with the greatest difficulty,\nif indeed it can be done at all.  It is even in excess of the amount\ndemanded from a criminal in gaol.\n\nThe stone-breaking test is monstrous.  Half a ton of stone from any man\nin return for partially supplying the cravings of hunger is an outrage\nwhich, if we read of as having occurred in Russia or Siberia, would\nfind Exeter Hall crowded with an indignant audience, and Hyde Park\nfilled with strong oratory.  But because this system exists at our own\ndoors, very little notice is taken of it.  These tasks are expected\nfrom all comers, starved, ill-clad, half-fed creatures from the\nstreets, foot-sore and worn out, and yet unless it is done, the\nalternative is the magistrate and the gaol.  The old system was bad\nenough, which demanded the picking of one pound of oakum.  As soon as\nthis task was accomplished, which generally kept them till the middle\nof next day, it was thus rendered impossible for them to seek work, and\nthey were forced to spend another night in the ward.  The Local\nGovernment Board, however, stepped in, and the Casual was ordered to be\ndetained for the whole day and the second night, the amount of labour\nrequired from him being increased four-fold.\n\nUnder the present system, therefore, the penalty for seeking shelter\nfrom the streets is a whole day and two nights, with an almost\nimpossible task, which, failing to do, the victim is liable to be\ndragged before a magistrate and committed to gaol as a rogue and\nvagabond, while in the Casual Ward their treatment is practically that\nof a criminal.  They sleep in a cell with an apartment at the back,\nin which the work is done, receiving at night half a pound of gruel and\neight ounces of bread, and next morning the same for breakfast, with\nhalf a pound of oakum and stones to occupy himself for a day.\n\nThe beds are mostly of the plank type, the coverings scant, the comfort\nnil.  Be it remembered that this is the treatment meted out to those\nwho are supposed to be Casual poor, in temporary difficulty, walking\nfrom place to place seeking some employment.\n\nThe treatment of the women is as follows:  Each Casual has to stay in\nthe Casual Wards two nights and one day, during which time they have to\npick 2 lb. of oakum or go to the wash-tub and work out the time there.\nWhile at the wash-tub they are allowed to wash their own clothes, but\nnot otherwise.  If seen more than once in the same Casual Ward, they\nare detained three days by order of the inspector each time seen, or if\nsleeping twice in the same month the master of the ward has power to\ndetain them three days.  There are four inspectors who visit different\nCasual Wards; and if the Casual is seen by any of the inspectors\n(who in turn visit all the Casual Wards) at any of the wards they have\npreviously visited they are detained three days in each one.\nThe inspector, who is a male person, visits the wards at all unexpected\nhours, even visiting while the females are in bed.  The beds are in\nsome wards composed of straw and two rugs, in others cocoanut fibre and\ntwo rugs.  The Casuals rise at 5.45 a.m.  and go to bed 7 p.m.  If they\ndo not finish picking their oakum before 7 p.m., they stay up till they\ndo.  If a Casual does not come to the ward before 12.30, midnight, they\nkeep them one day extra.  The way in which this operates, however, can\nbe best understood by the following statements, made by those who have\nbeen in Casual Wards, and who can, therefore, speak from experience as\nto how the system affects the individual: --\n\nJ. C. knows Casual Wards pretty well.  Has been in St. Giles,\nWhitechapel, St. George's, Paddington, Marylebone, Mile End.\nThey vary a little in detail, but as a rule the doors open at 6;\nyou walk in; they tell you what the work is, and that if you fail to do\nit, you will be liable to imprisonment.  Then you bathe.  Some places\nthe water is dirty.  Three persons as a rule wash in one water.\nAt Whitechapel (been there three times) it has always been dirty; also\nat St. George's.  I had no bath at Mile End; they were short of water.\nIf you complain they take no notice.  You then tie your clothes in a\nbundle, and they give you a nightshirt.  At most places they serve\nsupper to the men, who have to go to bed and eat it there.  Some beds\nare in cells; some in large rooms.  You get up at 6 a.m.  and do the\ntask.  The amount of stone-breaking is too much; and the oakum-picking\nis also heavy.  The food differs.  At St. Giles, the gruel left\nover-night is boiled up for breakfast, and is consequently sour; the\nbread is puffy, full of holes, and don't weigh the regulation amount.\nDinner is only 8 ounces of bread and 1 1/2 ounce of cheese, and its\nthat's short, how can anybody do their work?  They will give you water\nto drink if you ring the cell bell for it, that is, they will tell you\nto wait, and bring it in about half an hour.  There are a good lot of\n\"moochers\" go to Casual Wards, but there are large numbers of men who\nonly want work.\n\nJ.D.; age 25; Londoner; can't get work, tried hard; been refused work\nseveral times on account of having no settled residence; looks\nsuspicious, they think, to have \"no home.\"  Seems a decent, willing man.\nHad two penny-worth of soup this morning, which has lasted all day.\nEarned 1s. 6d. yesterday, bill distributing, nothing the day before.\nBeen in good many London Casual Wards.  Thinks they are no good,\nbecause they keep him all day, when he might be seeking work.\nDon't want shelter in day time, wants work.  If he goes in twice in a\nmonth to the same Casual Ward, they detain him four days.  Considers\nthe food decidedly insufficient to do the required amount of work.\nIf the work is not done to time, you are liable to 21 days'\nimprisonment.  Get badly treated some places, especially where there is\na bullying superintendent.  Has done 21 days for absolutely refusing to\ndo the work on such low diet, when unfit.  Can't get justice, doctor\nalways sides with superintendent.\n\nJ. S.; odd jobber.  Is working at board carrying, when he can get it.\nThere's quite a rush for it at 1s. 2d. a day.  Carried a couple of\nparcels yesterday, got 5d. for them; also had a bit of bread and meat\ngiven him by a working man, so altogether had an excellent day.\nSometimes goes all day without food, and plenty more do the same.\nSleeps on Embankment, and now and then in Casual Ward.  Latter is clean\nand comfortable enough, but they keep you in all day; that means no\nchance of getting work.  Was a clerk once, but got out of a job, and\ncouldn't get another; there are so many clerks.\n\n\"A Tramp\" says:  \"I've been in most Casual Wards in London; was in the\none in Macklin Street, Drury Lane, last week.  They keep you two nights\nand a day, and more than that if they recognise you.  You have to break\n10 cwt. of stone, or pick four pounds of oakum.  Both are hard.\nAbout thirty a night go to Macklin Street.  The food is 1 pint gruel\nand 6 oz. bread for breakfast; 8 oz. bread and 1 1/2 oz. cheese for\ndinner; tea same as breakfast.  No supper.  It is not enough to do the\nwork on.  Then you are obliged to bathe, of course; sometimes three\nwill bathe in one water, and if you complain they turn nasty, and ask\nif you are come to a palace.  Mitcham Workhouse I've been in; grub is\ngood; 1 1/2 pint gruel and 8 oz. bread for breakfast, and same for\nsupper.\n\nF.K. W.; baker.  Been board-carrying to-day, earned one shilling,\nHours 9 till 5.  I've been on this kind of life six years.  Used to\nwork in a bakery, but had congestion of the brain, and couldn't stand\nthe heat.  I've been in about every Casual Ward in England.  They treat\nmen too harshly.  Have to work very hard, too.  Has had to work whilst\nreally unfit.  At Peckham (known as Camberwell) Union, was quite unable\nto do it through weakness, and appealed to the doctor, who, taking the\npart of the other officials, as usual, refused to allow him to forego\nthe work.  Cheeked the doctor, telling him he didn't understand his\nwork; result, got three days' imprisonment.  Before going to a Casual\nWard at all, I spent seven consecutive nights on the Embankment, and at\nlast went to the Ward.\n\nThe result of the deliberate policy of making the night refuge for the\nunemployed labourer as disagreeable as possible, and of placing as many\nobstacles as possible in the way of his finding work the following day,\nis, no doubt, to minimise the number of Casuals, and without question\nsucceeds.  In the whole of London the number of Casuals in the wards at\nnight is only 1,136.  That is to say, the conditions which are imposed\nare so severe, that the majority of the Out-of-Works prefer to sleep in\nthe open air, taking their chance of the inclemency and mutability of\nour English weather, rather than go through the experience of the\nCasual Ward.\n\nIt seems to me that such a mode of coping with distress does not so\nmuch meet the difficulty as evade it.  It is obvious that an apparatus,\nwhich only provides for 1,136 persons per night, is utterly unable to\ndeal with the numbers of the homeless Out-of-Works.  But if by some\nmiracle we could use the Casual Wards as a means of providing for all\nthose who are seeking work from day to day, without a place in which to\nlay their heads, save the kerbstone of the pavement or the back of a\nseat on the Embankment, they would utterly fail to have any appreciable\neffect upon the mass of human misery with which we have to deal.\nFor this reason; the administration of the Casual Wards is mechanical,\nperfunctory, and formal.  Each of the Casuals is to the Officer in\nCharge merely one Casual the more.  There is no attempt whatever to do\nmore than provide for them merely the indispensable requisites of\nexistence.  There has never been any attempt to treat them as human\nbeings, to deal with them as individuals, to appeal to their hearts,\nto help them on their legs again.  They are simply units, no more\nthought of and cared for than if they were so many coffee beans passing\nthrough a coffee mill; and as the net result of all my experience and\nobservation of men and things, I must assert unhesitatingly that\nanything which dehumanises the individual, anything which treats a man\nas if he were only a number of a series or a cog in a wheel, without\nany regard to the character, the aspirations, the temptations, and the\nidiosyncrasies of the man, must utterly fail as a remedial agency.\nThe Casual Ward, at the best, is merely a squalid resting place for the\nCasual in his downward career.  It anything is to be done for these\nmen, it must be done by other agents than those which prevail in the\nadministration of the Poor Laws.\n\nThe second method in which Society endeavours to do its duty to the\nlapsed masses is by the miscellaneous and heterogeneous efforts which\nare clubbed together under the generic head of Charity.  Far be it from\nme to say one word in disparagement of any effort that is prompted by a\nsincere desire to alleviate the misery of our fellow creatures, but the\nmost charitable are those who most deplore the utter failure which has,\nup till now, attended all their efforts to do more than temporarily\nalleviate pain, or effect an occasional improvement in the condition of\nindividuals.\n\nThere are many institutions, very excellent in their way, without which\nit is difficult to see how society could get on at all, but when they\nhave done their best there still remains this great and appalling mass\nof human misery on our hands, a perfect quagmire of Human Sludge.\nThey may ladle out individuals here and there, but to drain the whole\nbog is an effort which seems to be beyond the imagination of most of\nthose who spend their lives in philanthropic work.  It is no doubt\nbetter than nothing to take the individual and feed him from day to\nday, to bandage up his wounds and heal his diseases; but you may go on\ndoing that for ever, if you do not do more than that; and the worst of\nit is that all authorities agree that if you only do that you will\nprobably increase the evil with which you are attempting to deal, and\nthat you had much better let the whole thing alone.\n\nThere is at present no attempt at Concerted Action.  Each one deals\nwith the case immediately before him, and the result is what might be\nexpected; there is a great expenditure, but the gains are, alas! very\nsmall.  The fact, however, that so much is subscribed for the temporary\nrelief and the mere alleviation of distress justifies my confidence\nthat if a Practical Scheme of dealing with this misery in a permanent,\ncomprehensive fashion be discovered, there will be no lack of the\nsinews of war.  It is well, no doubt, sometimes to administer an\nanaesthetic, but the Cure of the Patient is worth ever so much more,\nand the latter is the object which we must constantly set before us in\napproaching this problem.\n\nThe third method by which Society professes to attempt the reclamation\nof the lost is by the rough, rude surgery of the Gaol.  Upon this a\nwhole treatise might be written, but when it was finished it would be\nnothing more than a demonstration that our Prison system has\npractically missed aiming at that which should be the first essential\nof every system of punishment.  It is not Reformatory, it is not worked\nas if it were intended to be Reformatory.  It is punitive, and only\npunitive.  The whole administration needs to be reformed from top to\nbottom in accordance with this fundamental principle, viz., that while\nevery prisoner should be subjected to that measure of punishment which\nshall mark a due sense of his crime both to himself and society, the\nmain object should be to rouse in his mind the desire to lead an honest\nlife; and to effect that change in his disposition and character which\nwill send him forth to put that desire into practice.  At present,\nevery Prison is more or less a Training School for Crime,\nan introduction to the society of criminals, the petrifaction of any\nlingering human feeling and a very Bastille of Despair.  The prison\nbrand is stamped upon those who go in, and that so deeply, that it\nseems as if it clung to them for life.  To enter Prison once, means in\nmany cases an almost certain return there at an early date.  All this\nhas to be changed, and will be, when once the work of Prison Reform is\ntaken in hand by men who understand the subject, who believe in the\nreformation of human nature in every form which its depravity can\nassume, and who are in full sympathy with the class for whose benefit\nthey labour; and when those charged directly with the care of criminals\nseek to work out their regeneration in the same spirit.\n\nThe question of Prison Reform is all the more important because it is\nonly by the agency of the Gaol that Society attempts to deal with its\nhopeless cases.  If a woman, driven mad with shame, flings herself into\nthe river, and is fished out alive, we clap her into Prison on a charge\nof attempted suicide.  If a man, despairing of work and gaunt with\nhunger, helps himself to food, it is to the same reformatory agency\nthat he is forthwith subjected.  The rough and ready surgery with which\nwe deal with our social patients recalls the simple method of the early\nphysicians.  The tradition still lingers among old people of doctors\nwho prescribed bleeding for every ailment, and of keepers of asylums\nwhose one idea of ministering to a mind diseased was to put the body\ninto a strait waistcoat.  Modern science laughs to scorn these simple\n\"remedies\" of an unscientific age, and declares that they were, in most\ncases, the most efficacious means of aggravating the disease they\nprofessed to cure.  But in social maladies we are still in the age of\nthe blood-letter and the strait waistcoat.  The Gaol is our specific\nfor Despair.  When all else fails Society will always undertake to\nfeed, clothe, warm, and house a man, if only he will commit a crime.\nIt will do it also in such a fashion as to render it no temporary help,\nbut a permanent necessity.\n\nSociety says to the individual:  \"To qualify for free board and lodging\nyou must commit a crime.  But if you do you must pay the price.\nYou must allow me to ruin your character, and doom you for the rest of\nyour life to destitution, modified by the occasional successes of\ncriminality.  You shall become the Child of the State, on condition\nthat we doom you to a temporal perdition, out of which you will never\nbe permitted to escape, and in which you will always be a charge upon\nour resources and a constant source of anxiety and inconvenience to the\nauthorities.  I will feed you, certainly, but in return you must permit\nme to damn you.\"  That surely ought not to be the last word of Civilised\nSociety.\n\n\"Certainly not,\" say others.  \"Emigration is the true specific.\nThe waste lands of the world are crying aloud for the application of\nsurplus labour.  Emigration is the panacea.\"  Now I have no objection to\nemigration.  Only a criminal lunatic could seriously object to the\ntransference of hungry Jack from an overcrowded shanty--where he\ncannot even obtain enough bad potatoes to dull the ache behind his\nwaistcoat, and is tempted to let his child die for the sake of the\ninsurance money--to a land flowing with milk and honey, where he can\neat meat three times a day and where a man's children are his wealth.\nBut you might as well lay a new-born child naked in the middle of a\nnew-sown field in March, and expect it to live and thrive, as expect\nemigration to produce successful results on the lines which some lay\ndown.  The child, no doubt, has within it latent capacities which, when\nyears and training have done their work, will enable him to reap a\nharvest from a fertile soil, and the new sown field will be covered\nwith golden grain in August.  But these facts will not enable the\ninfant to still its hunger with the clods of the earth in the cold\nspring time.  It is just like that with emigration.  It is simply\ncriminal to take a multitude of untrained men and women and land them\npenniless and helpless on the fringe of some new continent.  The result\nof such proceedings we see in the American cities; in the degradation\nof their slums, and in the hopeless demoralisation of thousands who, in\ntheir own country, were living decent, industrious lives.\n\nA few months since, in Paramatta, in New South Wales, a young man who\nhad emigrated with a vague hope of mending his fortunes, found himself\nhomeless, friendless, and penniless.  He was a clerk.  They wanted no\nmore clerks in Paramatta.  Trade was dull, employment was scarce, even\nfor trained hands.  He went about from day to day seeking work and\nfinding none.  At last he came to the end of all his resources. He went\nall day without food; at night he slept as best he could.  Morning\ncame, and he was hopeless.  All next day passed without a meal.\nNight came.  He could not sleep.  He wandered about restlessly.\nAt last, about midnight, an idea seized him.  Grasping a brick, he\ndeliberately walked up to a jeweller's window, and smashed a hole\nthrough the glass.  He made no attempt to steal anything:  He merely\nsmashed the pane and then sat down on the pavement beneath the window,\nwaiting for the arrival of the policeman.  He waited some hours; but at\nlast the constable arrived.  He gave himself up, and was marched off to\nthe lock-up.  \"I shall at least have something to eat now,\" was the\nreflection.  He was right.  He was sentenced to one year's imprisonment,\nand he is in gaol at this hour.  This very morning he received his\nrations, and at this very moment he is dodged, and clothed and cared\nfor at the cost of the rates and taxes.  He has become the child of\nthe State, and, therefore, one of the socially damned.\nThus emigration itself, instead of being an invariable specific,\nsometimes brings us back again to the gaol door.\n\nEmigration, by all means.  But whom are you to emigrate?  These girls\nwho do not know how to bake?  These lads who never handled a spade?\nAnd where are you to emigrate them?  Are you going to make the Colonies\nthe dumping ground of your human refuse?  On that the colonists will\nhave something decisive to say, where there are colonists; and where\nthere are not, how are you to feed, clothe, and employ your emigrants\nin the uninhabited wilderness?  Immigration, no doubt, is the making of\na colony, just as bread is the staff of life.  But if you were to cram\na stomach with wheat by a force-pump you would bring on such a fit of\nindigestion that unless your victim threw up the indigestible mass of\nunground, uncooked, unmasticated grain he would never want another\nmeal.  So it is with the new colonies and the surplus labour of other\ncountries.\n\nEmigration is in itself not a panacea.  Is Education?  In one sense it\nmay be, for Education, the developing in a man of all his latent\ncapacities for improvement, may cure anything and everything.  But the\nEducation of which men speak when they use the term, is mere schooling.\nNo one but a fool would say a word against school teaching.  By all\nmeans let us have our children educated.  But when we have passed them\nthrough the Board School Mill we have enough experience to see that\nthey do not emerge the renovated and regenerated beings whose advent\nwas expected by those who passed the Education Act.  The \"scuttlers\"\nwho knife inoffensive persons in Lancashire, the fighting gangs of the\nWest of London, belong to the generation that has enjoyed the advantage\nof Compulsory Education.  Education, book-learning and schooling will\nnot solve the difficulty.  It helps, no doubt.  But in some ways it\naggravates it.  The common school to which the children of thieves and\nharlots and drunkards are driven, to sit side by side with our little\nones, is often by no means a temple of all the virtues.\nIt is sometimes a university of all the vices.  The bad infect the\ngood, and your boy and girl come back reeking with the contamination of\nbad associates, and familiar with the coarsest obscenity of the slum.\nAnother great evil is the extent to which our Education tends to\noverstock the labour market with material for quill-drivers and\nshopmen, and gives our youth a distaste for sturdy labour.  Many of the\nmost hopeless cases in our Shelters are men of considerable education.\nOur schools help to enable a starving man to tell his story in more\ngrammatical language than that which his father could have employed,\nbut they do not feed him, or teach him where to go to get fed.  So far\nfrom doing this they increase the tendency to drift into those channels\nwhere food is least secure, because employment is most uncertain, and\nthe market most overstocked.\n\n\"Try Trades Unionism,\" say some, and their advice is being widely\nfollowed.  There are many and great advantages in Trades Unionism.\nThe fable of the bundle of sticks is good for all time.  The more the\nworking people can be banded together in voluntary organisations,\ncreated and administered by themselves for the protection of their own\ninterests, the better--at any rate for this world--and not only for\ntheir own interests, but for those of every other section of the\ncommunity.  But can we rely upon this agency as a means of solving the\nproblems which confront us?  Trades Unionism has had the field to itself\nfor a generation.  It is twenty years since it was set free from all\nthe legal disabilities under which it laboured.  But it has not covered\nthe land.  It has not organised all skilled labour.  Unskilled labour\nis almost untouched.  At the Congress at Liverpool only one and a half\nmillion workmen were represented.  Women are almost entirely outside\nthe pale.  Trade Unions not only represent a fraction of the labouring\nclasses, but they are, by their constitution, unable to deal with those\nwho do not belong to their body.  What ground can there be, then, for\nhoping that Trades Unionism will by itself solve the difficulty?  The\nmost experienced Trades Unionists will be the first to admit that any\nscheme which could deal adequately with the out-of-works and others who\nhang on to their skirts and form the recruiting ground of blacklegs and\nembarrass them in ever way, would be, of all others that which would be\nmost beneficial to Trades Unionism.  The same may be said about\nCo-operation.  Personally, I am a strong believer in Co-operation, but\nit must be Co-operation based on the spirit of benevolence.  I don't\nsee how any pacific re-adjustment of the social and economic relations\nbetween classes in this country can be effected except by the gradual\nsubstitution of cooperative associations for the present wages system.\nAs you will see in subsequent chapters, so far from there being\nanything in my proposals that would militate in any way against the\nultimate adoption of the co-operative solution of the question, I look\nto Co-operation as one of the chief elements of hope in the future.\nBut we have not to deal with the ultimate future, but with the\nimmediate present, and for the evils with which we are dealing the\nexisting cooperative organisations do not and cannot give us much help.\n\nAnother--I do not like to call it specific; it is only a name, a mere\nmockery of a specific--so let me call it another suggestion made when\ndiscussing this evil, is Thrift.  Thrift is a great virtue no doubt.\nBut how is Thrift to benefit those who have nothing?  What is the use\nof the gospel of Thrift to a man who had nothing to eat yesterday, and\nhas not threepence to-day to pay for his lodging to-night?  To live on\nnothing a day is difficult enough, but to save on it would beat the\ncleverest political economist that ever lived.  I admit without\nhesitation that any Scheme which weakened the incentive to Thrift would\ndo harm.  But it is a mistake to imagine that social damnation is an\nincentive to Thrift.  It operates least where its force ought to be\nmost felt.  There is no fear that any Scheme that we can devise will\nappreciably diminish the deterrent influences which dispose a man to\nsave.  But it is idle wasting time upon a plea that is only brought\nforward as an excuse for inaction.  Thrift is a great virtue, the\ninculcation of which must be constantly kept in view by all those who\nare attempting to \"educate and save the people.  It is not in any sense\na specific for the salvation of the lapsed and the lost.  Even among\nthe most wretched of the very poor, a man must have an object and a\nhope before he will save a halfpenny.  \"Let us eat and drink, for\nto-morrow we perish,\" sums up the philosophy of those who have no hope.\nIn the thriftiness of the French peasant we see that the temptation of\neating and drinking is capable of being resolutely subordinated to the\nsuperior claims of the accumulation of a dowry for the daughter, or for\nthe acquisition of a little more land for the son.\n\nOf the schemes of those who propose to bring in a new heaven and a new\nearth by a more scientific distribution of the pieces of gold and\nsilver in the trouser pockets of mankind, I need not say anything here.\nThey may be good or they may not.  I say nothing against any short cut\nto the Millennium that is compatible with the Ten Commandments.\nI intensely sympathise with the aspirations that lie behind all these\nSocialist dreams.  But whether it is Henry George's Single Tax on Land\nValues, or Edward Bellamy's Nationalism, or the more elaborate schemes\nof the Collectivists, my attitude towards them all is the same.\nWhat these good people want to do, I also want to do.  But I am a\npractical man, dealing with the actualities of to-day.  I have no\npreconceived theories, and I flatter myself I am singularly free from\nprejudices.  I am ready to sit at the feet of any who will show me any\ngood.  I keep my mind open on all these subjects; and am quite prepared\nto hail with open arms any Utopia that is offered me.  But it must be\nwithin range of my finger-tips.  It is of no use to me if it is in the\nclouds.  Cheques on the Bank of Futurity I accept gladly enough as a\nfree gift, but I can hardly be expected to take them as if they were\ncurrent coin, or to try to cash them at the Bank of England.\n\nIt may be that nothing will be put permanently right until everything\nhas been turned upside down.  There are certainly so many things that\nneed transforming, beginning with the heart of each individual man and\nwoman, that I do not quarrel with any Visionary when in his intense\nlonging for the amelioration of the condition of mankind he lays down\nhis theories as to the necessity for radical change, however\nimpracticable they may appear to me.  But this is the question.\nHere at our Shelters last night were a thousand hungry, workless\npeople.  I want to know what to do with them?  Here is John Jones,\na stout stalwart labourer in rags, who has not had one square meal for\na month, who has been hunting for work that will enable him to keep\nbody and soul together, and hunting in vain.  There he is in his hungry\nraggedness, asking for work that he may live, and not die of sheer\nstarvation in the midst of the wealthiest city in the world.\nWhat is to be done with John Jones?\n\nThe individualist tells me that the free play of the Natural Laws\ngoverning the struggle for existence will result in the Survival of the\nFittest, and that in the course of a few ages, more or less, a much\nnobler type will be evolved.  But meanwhile what is to become of John\nJones?  The Socialist tells me that the great Social Revolution is\nlooming large on the horizon.  In the good time coming, when wealth\nwill be re-distributed and private property abolished, all stomachs\nwill be filled and there will be no more John Jones' impatiently\nclamouring for opportunity to work that they may not die.  It may be\nso, but in the meantime here is John Jones growing more impatient than\never because hungrier, who wonders if he is to wait for a dinner until\nthe Social Revolution has arrived.  What are we to do with John Jones?\nThat is the question.  And to the solution of that question none of the\nUtopians give me much help.  For practical purposes these dreamers fall\nunder the condemnation they lavish so freely upon the conventional\nreligious people who relieve themselves of all anxiety for the welfare\nof the poor by saying that in the next world all will be put right.\nThis religious cant, which rids itself of all the importunity of\nsuffering humanity by drawing unnegotiable bills payable on the other\nside of the grave, is not more impracticable than the Socialistic\nclap-trap which postpones all redress of human suffering until after\nthe general overturn.  Both take refuge in the Future to escape a\nsolution of the problems of the Present, and it matters little to the\nsufferers whether the Future is on this side of the grave or the other.\nBoth are, for them, equally out of reach.\n\nWhen the sky falls we shall catch larks.  No doubt.\nBut in the meantime?\n\nIt is the meantime--that is the only time in which we have to work.\nIt is in the meantime that the people must be fed, that their life's\nwork must be done or left undone for ever.  Nothing that I have to\npropose in this book, or that I propose to do by my Scheme, will in the\nleast prevent the coming of any of the Utopias.  I leave the limitless\ninfinite of the Future to the Utopians.  They may build there as they\nplease.  As for me, it is indispensable that whatever I do is founded\non existing fact, and provides a present help for the actual need.\n\nThere is only one class or men who have cause to oppose the proposals\nwhich I am about to set forth.  That is those, if such there be,\nwho are determined to bring about by any and every means a bloody and\nviolent overturn of all existing institutions.  They will oppose the\nScheme, and they will act logically in so doing.  For the only hope of\nthose who are the artificers of Revolution is the mass of seething\ndiscontent and misery that lies in the heart of the social system.\nHonestly believing that things must get worse before they get better,\nthey build all their hopes upon the general overturn, and they resent\nas an indefinite postponement of the realisation of their dreams any\nattempt at a reduction of human misery.\n\nThe Army of the Revolution is recruited by the Soldiers of Despair.\nTherefore, down with any Scheme which gives men Hope.  In so far as it\nsucceeds it curtails our recruiting ground and reinforces the ranks of\nour Enemies.  Such opposition is to be counted upon, and to be utilised\nas the best of all tributes to the value of our work.  Those who thus\ncount upon violence and bloodshed are too few to hinder, and their\nopposition will merely add to the momentum with which I hope and\nbelieve this Scheme will ultimately be enabled to surmount all dissent,\nand achieve, with the blessing of God, that measure of success with\nwhich I verily believe it to be charged.\n\n\n\nPART 2.--DELIVERANCE.\n\nCHAPTER 1.  A STUPENDOUS UNDERTAKING.\n\nSuch, then, is a brief and hurried survey of Darkest England, and those\nwho have been in the depths of the enchanted forest in which wander the\ntribes of the despairing Lost will be the first to admit that I have in\nno way exaggerated its horrors, while most will assert that I have\nunder-estimated the number of its denizens.  I have, indeed, very\nscrupulously striven to keep my estimates of the extent of the evil\nwithin the lines of sobriety.  Nothing in such an enterprise as that on\nwhich I am entering could worse befall me than to come under the\nreproach of sensationalism or exaggeration.  Most of the evidence upon\nwhich I have relied is taken direct from the official statistics\nsupplied by the Government Returns; and as to the rest, I can only say\nthat if my figures are compared with those of any other writer upon\nthis subject, it will be found that my estimates are the lowest.\nI am not prepared to defend the exact accuracy of my calculations,\nexcepting so far as they constitute the minimum.  To those who believe\nthat the numbers of the wretched are far in excess of my figures,\nI have nothing to say, excepting this, that if the evil is so much\ngreater than I have described, then let your efforts be proportioned to\nyour estimate, not to mine.  The great point with each of us is, not\nhow many of the wretched exist to-day, but how few shall there exist in\nthe years that are to come.\n\nThe dark and dismal jungle of pauperism, vice, and despair is the\ninheritance to which we have succeeded from the generations and\ncenturies past, during which wars, insurrections, and internal troubles\nleft our forefathers small leisure to attend to the well-being of the\nsunken tenth.  Now that we have happened upon more fortunate times,\nlet us recognise that we are our brother's keepers, and set to work,\nregardless of party distinctions and religious differences, to make\nthis world of ours a little bit more like home for those whom we call\nour brethren.\n\nThe problem, it must be admitted, is by no means a simple one; nor can\nanyone accuse me in the foregoing pages of having minimised the\ndifficulties which heredity, habit, and surroundings place in the way\nof its solution, but unless we are prepared to fold our arms in\nselfish ease and say that nothing can be done, and thereby doom those\nlost millions to remediless perdition in this world, to say nothing of\nthe next, the problem must be solved in some way.  But in what way?\nThat is the question.  It may tend, perhaps, to the crystallisation of\nopinion on this subject if I lay down, with such precision as I can\ncommand, what must be the essential elements of any scheme likely to\ncommand success.\n\nSECTION I.--THE ESSENTIALS TO SUCCESS.\n\nThe first essential that must be borne in mind as governing every\nScheme that may be put forward is that it must change the man when it\nis his character and conduct which constitute the reasons for his\nfailure in the battle of life.  No change in circumstances, no\nrevolution in social conditions, can possibly transform the nature of\nman.  Some of the worst men and women in the world, whose names are\nchronicled by history with a shudder of horror, were those who had all\nthe advantages that wealth, education and station could confer or\nambition could attain.\n\nThe supreme test of any scheme for benefiting humanity lies in the\nanswer to the question, What does it make of the individual?  Does it\nquicken his conscience, does it soften his heart, does it enlighten his\nmind, does it, in short, make more of a true man of him, because only\nby such influences can he be enabled to lead a human life?  Among the\ndenizens of Darkest England there are many who have found their way\nthither by defects of character which would under the most favourable\ncircumstances relegate them to the same position.  Hence, unless you can\nchange their character your labour will be lost.  You may clothe the\ndrunkard, fill his purse with gold, establish him in a well-furnished\nhome, and in three, or six, or twelve months he will once more be on\nthe Embankment, haunted by delirium tremens, dirty, squalid, and\nragged.  Hence, in all cases where a man's own character and defects\nconstitute the reasons for his fall, that character must be changed and\nthat conduct altered if any permanent beneficial results are to be\nattained.  If he is a drunkard, he must be made sober; if idle, he must\nbe made industrious; if criminal, he must be made honest; if impure,\nhe must be made clean; and if he be so deep down in vice, and has been\nthere so long that he has lost all heart, and hope, and power to help\nhimself, and absolutely refuses to move, he must be inspired with hope\nand have created within him the ambition to rise; otherwise he will\nnever get out of the horrible pit.\n\nSecondly:  The remedy, to be effectual, must change the circumstances of\nthe individual when they are the cause of his wretched condition, and\nlie beyond his control.  Among those who have arrived at their present\nevil plight through faults of self-indulgence or some defect in their\nmoral character, how many are there who would have been very\ndifferently placed to-day had their surroundings been otherwise?\nCharles Kingsley puts this very abruptly where he makes the Poacher's\nwidow say, when addressing the Bad Squire, who drew back\n\n \"Our daughters, with base--born babies,\n Have wandered away in their shame.\n If your misses had slept, Squire, where they did,\n Your misses might do the same.'\n\n\nPlaced in the same or similar circumstances, how many of us would have\nturned out better than this poor, lapsed, sunken multitude?\n\nMany of this crowd have never had a chance of doing better; they have\nbeen born in a poisoned atmosphere, educated in circumstances which\nhave rendered modesty an impossibility, and have been thrown into life\nin conditions which make vice a second nature.  Hence, to provide an\neffective remedy for the evils which we are deploring these\ncircumstances must be altered, and unless my Scheme effects such a\nchange, it will be of no use.  There are multitudes, myriads, of men and\nwomen, who are floundering in the horrible quagmire beneath the burden\nof a load too heavy for them to bear; every plunge they take forward\nlands them deeper; some have ceased even to struggle, and lie prone in\nthe filthy bog, slowly suffocating, with their manhood and womanhood\nall but perished.  It is no use standing on the firm bank of the\nquaking morass and anathematising these poor wretches; if you are to do\nthem any good, you must give them another chance to get on their feet,\nyou must give them firm foothold upon which they can once more stand\nupright, and you must build stepping-stones across the bog to enable\nthem safely to reach the other side.  Favourable circumstances will not\nchange a man's heart or transform his nature, but unpropitious\ncircumstances may render it absolutely impossible for him to escape,\nno matter how he may desire to extricate himself.  The first step with\nthese helpless, sunken creatures is to create the desire to escape,\nand then provide the means for doing so.  In other words, give the man\nanother chance.\n\nThirdly:  Any remedy worthy of consideration must be on a scale\ncommensurate with the evil with which it proposes to deal.  It is no use\ntrying to bail out the ocean with a pint pot.  This evil is one whose\nvictims are counted by the million.  The army of the Lost in our midst\nexceeds the numbers of that multitudinous host which Xerxes led from\nAsia to attempt the conquest of Greece.  Pass in parade those who make\nup the submerged tenth, count the paupers indoor and outdoor, the\nhomeless, the starving, the criminals, the lunatics, the drunkards,\nand the harlots--and yet do not give way to despair!  Even to attempt\nto save a tithe of this host requires that we should put much more\nforce and fire into our work than has hitherto been exhibited by\nanyone.  There must be no more philanthropic tinkering, as if this vast\nsea of human misery were contained in the limits of a garden pond.\n\nFourthly:  Not only must the Scheme be large enough, but it must be\npermanent.  That is to say, it must not be merely a spasmodic effort\ncoping with the misery of to-day; it must be established on a durable\nfooting, so as to go on dealing with the misery of tomorrow and the\nday after, so long as there is misery left in the world with which to\ngrapple.\n\nFifthly:  But while it must be permanent, it must also be immediately\npracticable.  Any Scheme, to be of use, must be capable of being brought\ninto instant operation with beneficial results.\n\nSixthly:  The indirect features of the Scheme must not be such as to\nproduce injury to the persons whom we seek to benefit.  Mere charity,\nfor instance, while relieving the pinch of hunger, demoralises the\nrecipient; and whatever the remedy is that we employ, it must be of\nsuch a nature as to do good without doing evil at the same time.\nIt is no use conferring sixpennyworth of benefit on a man if, at the\nsame time, we do him a shilling'sworth of harm.\n\nSeventhly:  While assisting one class of the community, it must not\nseriously interfere with the interests of another.  In raising one\nsection of the fallen, we must not thereby endanger the safety of those\nwho with difficulty are keeping on their feet.\n\nThese are the conditions by which I ask you to test the Scheme I am\nabout to unfold.  They are formidable enough, possibly, to deter many\nfrom even attempting to do anything.  They are not of my making. They\nare obvious to anyone who looks into the matter. They are the laws\nwhich govern the work of the philanthropic reformer, just as the laws\nof gravitation, of wind and of weather, govern the operations of the\nengineer.  It is no use saying we could build a bridge across the Tay\nif the wind did not blow, or that we could build a railway across a bog\nif the quagmire would afford us a solid foundation.  The engineer has\nto take into account the difficulties, and make them his starting\npoint.  The wind will blow, therefore the bridge must be made strong\nenough to resist it.  Chat Moss will shake; therefore we must construct\na foundation in the very bowels of the bog on which to build our\nrailway.  So it is with the social difficulties which confront us.\nIf we act in harmony with these laws we shall triumph; but if we ignore\nthem they will overwhelm us with destruction and cover us with\ndisgrace.\n\nBut, difficult as the task may be, it is not one which we can neglect.\nWhen Napoleon was compelled to retreat under circumstances which\nrendered it impossible for him to carry off his sick and wounded,\nhe ordered his doctors to poison every man in the hospital.  A general\nhas before now massacred his prisoners rather than allow them to\nescape.  These Lost ones are the Prisoners of Society; they are the\nSick and Wounded in our Hospitals.  What a shriek would arise from the\ncivilised world if it were proposed to administer to-night to every one\nof these millions such a dose of morphine that they would sleep to wake\nno more.  But so far as they are concerned, would it not be much less\ncruel thus to end their life than to allow them to drag on day after\nday, year after year, in misery, anguish, and despair, driven into vice\nand hunted into crime, until at last disease harries them into the\ngrave?\n\nI am under no delusion as to the possibility of inaugurating a\nmillennium by my Scheme; but the triumphs of science deal so much with\nthe utilisation of waste material, that I do not despair of something\neffectual being accomplished in the utilisation of this waste human\nproduct.  The refuse which was a drug and a curse to our manufacturers,\nwhen treated under the hands of the chemist, has been the means of\nsupplying us with dyes rivalling in loveliness and variety the hues of\nthe rainbow.  If the alchemy of science can extract beautiful colours\nfrom coal tar, cannot Divine alchemy enable us to evolve gladness and\nbrightness out of the agonised hearts and dark, dreary, loveless lives\nof these doomed myriads?  Is it too much to hope that in God's world\nGod's children may be able to do something, if they set to work with a\nwill, to carry out a plan of campaign against these great evils which\nare the nightmare of our existence?\n\nThe remedy, it may be, is simpler than some imagine.  The key to the\nenigma may lie closer to our hands than we have any idea of.\nMany devices have been tried, and many have failed, no doubt;\nit is only stubborn, reckless perseverance that can hope to succeed;\nit is well that we recognise this.  How many ages did men try to make\ngunpowder and never succeeded?  They would put saltpetre to charcoal,\nor charcoal to sulphur, or saltpetre to sulphur, and so were ever\nunable to make the compound explode.  But it has only been discovered\nwithin the last few hundred years that all three were needed.\nBefore that gunpowder was a mere imagination, a phantasy of the\nalchemists.  How easy it is to make gunpowder, now the secret of its\nmanufacture is known!\n\nBut take a simpler illustration, one which lies even within the memory\nof some that read these pages.  From the beginning of the world down to\nthe beginning of this century, mankind had not found out, with all its\nstriving after cheap and easy transport, the miraculous difference that\nwould be brought about by laying down two parallel lines of metal.\nAll the great men and the wise men of the past lived and died oblivious\nof that fact.  The greatest mechanicians and engineers of antiquity,\nthe men who bridged all the rivers of Europe, the architects who built\nthe cathedrals which are still the wonder of the world, failed to\ndiscern what seems to us so obviously simple a proposition, that two\nparallel lines of rail would diminish the cost and difficulty of\ntransport to a minimum.  Without that discovery the steam engine, which\nhas itself been an invention of quite recent years, would have failed\nto transform civilisation.\n\nWhat we have to do in the philanthropic sphere is to find something\nanalogous to the engineers' parallel bars.  This discovery think I have\nmade, and hence have I written this book.\n\n\nSECTION 2--MY SCHEME\n\nWhat, then, is my Scheme?  It is a very simple one, although in its\nramifications and extensions it embraces the whole world.  In this book\nI profess to do no more than to merely outline, as plainly and as\nsimply as I can, the fundamental features of my proposals.  I propose\nto devote the bulk of this volume to setting forth what can practically\nbe done with one of the most pressing parts of the problem, namely,\nthat relating to those who are out of work, and who, as the result,\nare more or less destitute.  I have many ideas of what might be done\nwith those who are at present cared for in some measure by the State,\nbut I will leave these ideas for the present.\n\nIt is not urgent that I should explain how our Poor Law system could be\nreformed, or what I should like to see done for the Lunatics in\nAsylums, or the Criminals in Gaols.  The persons who are provided for by\nthe State we will, therefore, for the moment, leave out of count.\nThe indoor paupers, the convicts, the inmates of the lunatic asylums\nare cared for, in a fashion; already.  But, over and above all these,\nthere exists some hundreds of thousands who are not quartered on the\nState, but who are living on the verge of despair, and who at any\nmoment, under circumstances of misfortune, might be compelled to demand\nrelief or support in one shape or another.  I will confine myself,\ntherefore, for the present to those who have no helper.\n\nIt is possible, I think probable, if the proposals which I am now\nputting forward are carried out successfully in relation to the lost,\nhomeless, and helpless of the population, that many of those who are at\nthe present moment in somewhat better circumstances will demand that\nthey also shall be allowed to partake in the benefits of the Scheme.\nBut upon this, also, I remain silent.  I merely remark that we have,\nin the recognition of the importance of discipline and organisation;\nwhat may be called regimented co-operation, a principle that will be\nfound valuable for solving many social problems other than that of\ndestitution.  Of these plans, which are at present being brooded over\nwith a view to their realisation when the time is propitious and the\nopportunity occurs, I shall have something to say.\n\nWhat is the outward and visible form of the Problem of the Unemployed?\nAlas! we are all too familiar with it for any lengthy description to\nbe necessary.  The social problem presents itself before us whenever a\nhungry, dirty and ragged man stands at our door asking if we can give\nhim a crust or a job.  That is the social question.  What are you to do\nwith that man?  He has no money in his pocket, all that he can pawn he\nhas pawned long ago, his stomach is as empty as his purse, and the\nwhole of the clothes upon his back, even if sold on the best terms,\nwould not fetch a shilling.  There he stands, your brother, with\nsixpennyworth of rags to cover his nakedness from his fellow men and\nnot sixpennyworth of victuals within his reach.  He asks for work,\nwhich he will set to even on his empty stomach and in his ragged\nuniform, if so be that you will give him something for it, but his\nhands are idle, for no one employs him.  What are you to do with that\nman?  That is the great note of interrogation that confronts Society\nto-day.  Not only in overcrowded England, but in newer countries beyond\nthe sea, where Society has not yet provided a means by which the men\ncan be put upon the land and the land be made to feed the men.\nTo deal with this man is the Problem of the Unemployed.  To deal with\nhim effectively you must deal with him immediately, you must provide\nhim in some way or other at once with food, and shelter, and warmth.\nNext you must find him something to do, something that will test the\nreality of his desire to work.  This test must be more or less\ntemporary, and should be of such a nature as to prepare him for making\na permanent livelihood.  Then, having trained him, you must provide him\nwherewithal to start life afresh.  All these things I propose to do.\nMy Scheme divides itself into three sections, each of which is\nindispensable for the success of the whole.  In this three-fold\norganisation lies the open secret of the solution of the Social Problem.\n\nThe Scheme I have to offer consists in the formation of these people\ninto self-helping and self-sustaining communities, each being a kind of\nco-operative society, or patriarchal family, governed and disciplined\non the principles which have already proved so effective in the\nSalvation Army.\n\n\nThese communities we will call, for want of a better term, Colonies.\nThere will be: --\n\n (1) The City Colony.\n (2) The Farm Colony.\n (3) The Over-Sea Colony.\n\n\nTHE CITY COLONY.\n\nBy the City Colony is meant the establishment, in the very centre of\nthe ocean of misery of which we have been speaking, of a number of\nInstitutions to act as Harbours of Refuge for all and any who have been\nshipwrecked in life, character, or circumstances.  These Harbours will\ngather up the poor destitute creatures, supply their immediate pressing\nnecessities, furnish temporary employment, inspire them with hope for\nthe future, and commence at once a course of regeneration by moral and\nreligious influences.\n\nFrom these Institutions, which are hereafter described, numbers would,\nafter a short time, be floated off to permanent employment, or sent\nhome to friends happy to receive them on hearing of their reformation.\nAll who remain on our hands would, by varied means, be tested as to\ntheir sincerity, industry, and honesty, and as soon as satisfaction was\ncreated, be passed on to the Colony of the second class.\n\n\nTHE FARM COLONY.\n\nThis would consist of a settlement of the Colonists on an estate in the\nprovinces, in the culture of which they would find employment and\nobtain support.  As the race from the Country to the City has been the\ncause of much of the distress we have to battle with, we propose to\nfind a substantial part of our remedy by transferring these same people\nback to the country, that is back again to \"the Garden!\"\n\nHere the process of reformation of character would be carried forward\nby the same industrial, moral, and religious methods as have already\nbeen commenced in the City, especially including those forms of labour\nand that knowledge of agriculture which, should the Colonist not\nobtain employment in this country, will qualify him for pursuing his\nfortunes under more favourable circumstances in some other land.\n\nFrom the Farm, as from the City, there can be no question that large\nnumbers, resuscitated in health and character, would be restored to\nfriends up and down the country.  Some would find employment in their\nown callings, others would settle in cottages on a small piece of land\nthat we should provide, or on Co-operative Farms which we intend to\npromote; while the great bulk, after trial and training, would be\npassed on to the Foreign Settlement, which would constitute our third\nclass, namely The Over-Sea Colony.\n\n\nTHE OVER-SEA COLONY.\n\nAll who have given attention to the subject are agreed that in our\nColonies in South Africa, Canada, Western Australia and elsewhere,\nthere are millions of acres of useful land to be obtained almost for\nthe asking, capable of supporting our surplus population in health and\ncomfort, were it a thousand times greater than it is.  We propose to\nsecure a tract of land in one of these countries, prepare it for\nsettlement, establish in it authority, govern it by equitable laws,\nassist it in times of necessity, settling it gradually with a prepared\npeople, and so create a home for these destitute multitudes.\n\nThe Scheme, in its entirety, may aptly be compared to A Great Machine,\nfoundationed in the lowest slums and purlieus of our great towns and\ncities, drawing up into its embrace the depraved and destitute of all\nclasses; receiving thieves, harlots, paupers, drunkards, prodigals,\nall alike, on the simple conditions of their being willing to work and\nto conform to discipline.  Drawing up these poor outcasts, reforming\nthem, and creating in them habits of industry, honesty, and truth;\nteaching them methods by which alike the bread that perishes and that\nwhich endures to Everlasting Life can be won.  Forwarding them from the\nCity to the Country, and there continuing the process of regeneration,\nand then pouring them forth on to the virgin soils that await their\ncoming in other lands, keeping hold of them with a strong government,\nand yet making them free men and women; and so laying the foundations,\nperchance, of another Empire to swell to vast proportions in later\ntimes.  Why not?\n\nCHAPTER 2.  TO THE RESCUE!--THE CITY COLONY.\n\nThe first section of my Scheme is the establishment of a Receiving\nHouse for the Destitute in every great centre of population.  We start,\nlet us remember, from the individual, the ragged, hungry, penniless man\nwho confronts us with despairing demands for food, shelter, and work.\nNow, I have had some two or three years' experience in dealing with\nthis class.  I believe, at the present moment, the Salvation Army\nsupplies more food and shelter to the destitute than any other\norganisation in London, and it is the experience and encouragement\nwhich I have gained in the working of these Food and Shelter Depots\nwhich has largely encouraged me to propound this scheme.\n\n\nSECTION 1.--FOOD AND SHELTER FOR EVERY MAN.\n\nAs I rode through Canada and the United States some three years ago,\nI was greatly impressed with the superabundance of food which I saw at\nevery turn.  Oh, how I longed that the poor starving people, and the\nhungry children of the East of London and of other centres of our\ndestitute populations, should come into the midst of this abundance,\nbut as it appeared impossible for me to take them to it, I secretly\nresolved that I would endeavour to bring some of it to them.\nI am thankful to say that I have already been able to do so on a small\nscale, and hope to accomplish it ere long on a much vaster one.\n\nWith this view, the first Cheap Food Depot was opened in the East of\nLondon two and a half years ago.  This has been followed by others,\nand we have now three establishments:  others are being arranged for.\n\nSince the commencement in 1888, we have supplied over three and a half\nmillion meals.  Some idea can be formed of the extent to which these\nFood and Shelter Depots have already struck their roots into the strata\nof Society which it is proposed to benefit, by the following figures,\nwhich give the quantities of food sold during the year at our Food\nDepots.\n\nFOOD SOLD IN DEPOTS AND SHELTERS DURING 1889.\n\n            Article    Weight        Measure                 Remarks\n               Soup    .........     116,400 gallons\n              Bread   192.5 tons     106,964 4-lb loaves\n                Tea     2.5 tons     46,980 gallons\n             Coffee    15 cwt.       13,949 gallons\n              Cocoa     6 tons       29,229 gallons\n              Sugar    25 tons       .....................    300 bags\n           Potatoes   140 tons       .....................  2,800 bags\n              Flour    18 tons       .....................    180 sacks\n           Peaflour    28.5 tons     .....................    288 sacks\n            Oatmeal     3.5 tons     .....................     36 sacks\n               Rice    12 tons       .....................    120 sacks\n              Beans    12 tons       .....................    240 sacks\nOnions and parsnips    12 tons       .....................    240 sacks\n                Jam     9 tons       .....................   2,880 jars\n          Marmalade     6 tons       .....................   1,920 jars\n               Meat    15 tons       .....................\n               Milk    ..........     14,300 quarts\n\nThis includes returns from three Food Depots and five Shelters.\nI propose to multiply their number, to develop their usefulness,\nand to make them the threshold of the whole Scheme.  Those who have\nalready visited our Depots will understand exactly what th is means.\nThe majority, however, of the readers of these pages have not done so,\nand for them it is necessary to explain what they are.\n\nAt each of our Depots, which can be seen by anybody that cares to take\nthe trouble to visit them, there are two departments, one dealing with\nfood, the other with shelter.  Of these both are worked together and\nminister to the same individuals.  Many come for food who do not come\nfor shelter, although most of those who come for shelter also come for\nfood, which is sold on terms to cover, as nearly as possible, the cost\nprice and working expenses of the establishment.  In this our Food\nDepots differ from the ordinary soup kitchens.\n\nThere is no gratuitous distribution of victuals.  The following is our\nPrice List: --\n\n                  WHAT IS SOLD AT THE FOOD DEPOTS.\n\nFor a child\n\nSoup                    Per Basin   1/4d\nSoup                    With Bread  1/2d\nCoffee or Cocoa             per cup 1/4d\nCoffee or Cocoa  With Bread and Jam 1/2d\n\nFor adults\n\nSoup  ..   ..   ..   Per Basin     1/2d\nSoup  ..   ..   ..   With Bread    1d\nPotatoes   ..   ..   ..   ..   ..  1/2d\nCabbage    ..   ..   ..   ..   ..  1/2d\nHaricot Beans   ..   ..   ..   ..  1/2d\nBoiled Jam Pudding   ..   ..   ..  1/2d\nBoiled Plum Pudding  ..   ..  Each 1d\nRice  ..   ..   ..   ..   ..   ..  1/2d\nBaked Plum      ..   ..   ..   ..  1/2d\nBaked Jam Roll  ..   ..   ..   ..  1/2d\nMeat Pudding and Potatoes ..   ..  3d\nCorned Beef     ..   ..   ..   ..  2d\nCorned Mutton   ..   ..   ..   ..  2d\nCoffee      per cup 1/2d;  per mug 1d\nCocoa       per cup 1/2d;  per mug 1d\nTea         per cup 1/2d;  per mug 1d\nBread & Butter, Jam or Marmalade  per slice 1/2d\n\nSoup in own Jugs, 1d per Quart.   Ready at 10 a.m.\n\nA certain discretionary power is vested in the Officers in charge of\nthe Depot, and they can in very urgent cases give relief, but the rule\nis for the food to be paid for, and the financial results show that\nworking expenses are just about covered.\n\nThese Cheap Food Depots I have no doubt have been and are or great\nservice to numbers of hungry starving men, women, and children, at the\nprices just named, which must be within the reach of all, except the\nabsolutely penniless; but it is the Shelter that I regard as the most\nuseful feature in this part of our undertaking, for if anything is to\nbe done to get hold of those who use the Depot, some more favourable\nopportunity must be afforded than is offered by the mere coming into\nthe food store to get, perhaps, only a basin of soup.  This part of the\nScheme I propose to extend very considerably.\n\nSuppose that you are a casual in the streets of London, homeless,\nfriendless, weary with looking for work all day and finding none.\nNight comes on.  Where are you to go?  You have perhaps only a few\ncoppers, or it may be, a few shillings, left of the rapidly dwindling\nstore of your little capital.  You shrink from sleeping in the open\nair; you equally shrink from going to the fourpenny Dosshouse where,\nin the midst of strange and ribald company, you may be robbed of the\nremnant of the money still in your possession.  While at a loss as to\nwhat to do, someone who sees you suggests that you should go to our\nShelter.  You cannot, of course, go to the Casual Ward of the Workhouse\nas long as you have any money in your possession.  You come along to\none of our Shelters.  On entering you pay fourpence, and are free of\nthe establishment for the night.  You can come in early or late.\nThe company begins to assemble about five o'clock in the afternoon.\nIn the women's Shelter you find that many come much earlier and sit\nsewing, reading or chatting in the sparely furnished but well warmed\nroom from the early hours of the afternoon until bedtime.\n\nYou come in, and you get a large pot of coffee, tea, or cocoa,\nand a hunk of bread.  You can go into the wash-house, where you can\nhave a wash with plenty of warm water, and soap and towels free.\nThen after having washed and eaten you can make yourself comfortable.\nYou can write letters to your friends, if you have any friends to\nwrite to, or you can read, or you can sit quietly and do nothing.\nAt eight o'clock the Shelter is tolerably full, and then begins what\nwe consider to be the indispensable feature of the whole concern.\nTwo or three hundred men in the men's Shelter, or as many women in the\nwomen's Shelter, are collected together, most of them strange to each\nother, in a large room.  They are all wretchedly poor--what are you\nto do with them?  This is what we do with them.\n\nWe hold a rousing Salvation meeting.  The Officer in charge of the\nDepot, assisted by detachments from the Training Homes, conducts a\njovial free-and-easy social evening.  The girls have their banjos and\ntheir tambourines, and for a couple of hours you have as lively a\nmeeting as you will find in London.  There is prayer, short and to the\npoint; there are addresses, some delivered by the leaders of the\nmeeting, but the most of them the testimonies of those who have been\nsaved at previous meetings, and who, rising in their seats, tell their\ncompanions their experiences.  Strange experiences they often are of\nthose who have been down in the very bottomless depths of sin and vice\nand misery, but who have found at last firm footing on which to stand,\nand who are, as they say in all sincerity, \"as happy as the day is\nlong.\"  There is a joviality and a genuine good feeling at some of these\nmeetings which is refreshing to the soul.  There are all sorts and\nconditions of men; casuals, gaol birds, Out-of-Works, who have come\nthere for the first time, and who find men who last week or last month\nwere even as they themselves are now--still poor but rejoicing in a\nsense of brotherhood and a consciousness of their being no longer\noutcasts and forlorn in this wide world.  There are men who have at\nlast seen revive before them a hope of escaping from that dreadful\nvortex, into which their sins and misfortunes had drawn them, and being\nrestored to those comforts that they had feared so long were gone for\never; nay, of rising to live a true and Godly life.  These tell their\nmates how this has come about, and urge all who hear them to try for\nthemselves and see whether it is not a good and happy thing to be\nsoundly saved.  In the intervals of testimony--and these testimonies,\nas every one will bear me witness who has ever attended any of our\nmeetings, are not long, sanctimonious lackadaisical speeches, but\nsimple confessions of individual experience--there are bursts of\nhearty melody.  The conductor of the meeting will start up a verse or\ntwo of a hymn illustrative of the experiences mentioned by the last\nspeaker, or one of the girls from the Training Home will sing a solo,\naccompanying herself on her instrument, while all join in a rattling\nand rollicking chorus.\n\nThere is no compulsion upon anyone of our dossers to take part in this\nmeeting; they do not need to come in until it is over; but as a simple\nmatter of fact they do come in.  Any night between eight and ten o'clock\nyou will find these people sitting there, listening to the\nexhortations and taking part in the singing, many of them, no doubt,\nunsympathetic enough, but nevertheless preferring to be present with\nthe music and the warmth, mildly stirred, if only by curiosity,\nas the various testimonies are delivered.\n\nSometimes these testimonies are enough to rouse the most cynical of\nobservers.  We had at one of our shelters the captain of an ocean\nsteamer, who had sunk to the depths of destitution through strong\ndrink.  He came in there one night utterly desperate and was taken in\nhand by our people--and with us taking in hand is no mere phrase,\nfor at the close of our meetings our officers go from seat to seat,\nand if they see anyone who shows signs of being affected by the\nspeeches or the singing, at once sit down beside him and begin to\nlabour with him for the salvation of his soul.  By this means they are\nable to get hold of the men and to know exactly where the difficulty\nlies, what the trouble is, and if they do nothing else, at least\nsucceed in convincing them that there is someone who cares for their\nsoul and would do what he could to lend them a helping hand.\n\nThe captain of whom I was speaking was got hold of in this way.\nHe was deeply impressed, and was induced to abandon once and for all\nhis habits of intemperance.  From that meeting he went an altered man.\nHe regained his position in the merchant service, and twelve months\nafterwards astonished us all by appearing in the uniform of a captain\nof a large ocean steamer, to testify to those who were there how low he\nhad been, how utterly he had lost all hold on Society and all hope of\nthe future, when, fortunately led to the Shelter, he found friends,\ncounsel, and salvation, and from that time had never rested until he\nhad regained the position which he had forfeited by his intemperance.\n\nThe meeting over, the singing girls go back to the Training Home,\nand the men prepare for bed.  Our sleeping arrangements are somewhat\nprimitive; we do not provide feather beds, and when you go into our\ndormitories, you will be surprised to find the floor covered by what\nlook like an endless array of packing cases.  These are our beds,\nand each of them forms a cubicle.  There is a mattress laid on the\nfloor, and over the mattress a leather apron, which is all the\nbedclothes that we find it possible to provide.  The men undress,\neach by the side of his packing box, and go to sleep under their\nleather covering.  The dormitory is warmed with hot water pipes to a\ntemperature of 60 degrees, and there has never been any complaint of\nlack of warmth on the part of those who use the Shelter.  The leather\ncan be kept perfectly clean, and the mattresses, covered with American\ncloth, are carefully inspected every day, so that no stray specimen of\nvermin may be left in the place.  The men turn in about ten o'clock and\nsleep until six.  We have never any disturbances of any kind in the\nShelters.  We have provided accommodation now for several thousand of\nthe most helplessly broken-down men in London, criminals many of them,\nmendicants, tramps, those who are among the filth and offscouring of\nall things; but such is the influence that is established by the\nmeeting and the moral ascendancy of our officers themselves, that we\nhave never had a fight on the premises, and very seldom do we ever hear\nan oath or an obscene word.  Sometimes there has been trouble outside\nthe Shelter, when men insisted upon coming in drunk or were otherwise\nviolent; but once let them come to the Shelter, and get into the swing\nof the concern, and we have no trouble with them.  In the morning they\nget up and have their breakfast and, after a short service, go off\ntheir various ways.  We find that we can do this, that is to say, we\ncan provide coffee and bread for breakfast and for supper, and a\nshake-down on the floor in the packing-boxes I have described in a warm\ndormitory for fourpence a head.\n\nI propose to develop these Shelters, so as to afford every man a\nlocker, in which he could store any little valuables that he may\npossess.  I would also allow him the use of a boiler in the washhouse\nwith a hot drying oven, so that he could wash his shirt over night and\nhave it returned to him dry in the morning.  Only those who have had\npractical experience of the difficulty of seeking for work in London\ncan appreciate the advantages of the opportunity to get your shirt\nwashed in this way--if you have one.  In Trafalgar Square, in 1887,\nthere were few things that scandalised the public more than the\nspectacle of the poor people camped in the Square, washing their shirts\nin the early morning at the fountains.  If you talk to any men who have\nbeen on the road for a lengthened period they will tell you that\nnothing hurts their self-respect more or stands more fatally in the way\nof their getting a job than the impossibility of getting their little\nthings done up and clean.\n\nIn our poor man's \"Home\" everyone could at least keep himself clean and\nhave a clean shirt to his back, in a plain way, no doubt; but still not\nless effective than if he were to be put up at one of the West End\nhotels, and would be able to secure anyway the necessaries of life\nwhile being passed on to something far better.  This is the first step.\n\nSOME SHELTER TROPHIES.\n\nOf the practical results which have followed our methods of dealing\nwith the outcasts who take shelter with us we have many striking\nexamples.  Here are a few, each of them a transcript of a life\nexperience relating to men who are now active, industrious members of\nthe community upon which but for the agency of these Depots they would\nhave been preying to this day.\n\nA.S.--Born in Glasgow, 1825.  Saved at Clerkenwell, May 19, 1889.\nPoor parents raised in a Glasgow Slum.  Was thrown on the streets at\nseven years of age, became the companion and associate of thieves, and\ndrifted into crime.  The following are his terms of imprisonment: --\n14 days, 30 days, 30 days.  60 days, 60 days (three times in succession),\n4 months, 6 months (twice), 9 months, 18 months, 2 years, 6 years,\n7 years (twice), 14 years; 40 years 3 months and 6 days in the\naggregate.  Was flogged for violent conduct in gaol 8 times.\n\nW. M. (\"Buff\").--Born in Deptford, 1864, saved at Clerkenwell,\nMarch 31st, 1889.  His father was an old Navy man, and earned a decent\nliving as manager.  Was sober, respectable, and trustworthy.  Mother\nwas a disreputable drunken slattern:  a curse and disgrace to husband\nand family.  The home was broken up, and little Buff was given over to\nthe evil influences of his depraved mother.  His 7th birthday present\nfrom his admiring parent was a \"quarten o'gin.\"  He got some education\nat the One Tun Alley Ragged School, but when nine years old was caught\napple stealing, and sent to the industrial School at Ilford for\n7 years.  Discharged at the end of his term, he drifted to the streets,\nthe casual wards, and Metropolitan gaols, every one of whose interiors\nhe is familiar with.  He became a ringleader of a gang that infested\nLondon; a thorough mendicant and ne'er-do-well; a pest to society.\nNaturally he is a born leader, and one of those spirits that command a\nfollowing; consequently, when he got Salvation, the major part of his\nfollowing came after him to the Shelter, and eventually to God.\nHis character since conversion has been altogether satisfactory, and he\nis now an Orderly at Whitechapel, and to all appearances a \"true lad.\"\n\nC. W. (\"Frisco\").--Born in San Francisco, 1862.  Saved April 24th,\n1889.  Taken away from home at the age of eight years, and made his way\nto Texas.  Here he took up life amongst the Ranches as a Cowboy,\nand varied it with occasional trips to sea, developing into a typical\nbrass and rowdy.  He had 2 years for mutiny at sea, 4 years for mule\nstealing, 5 years for cattle stealing and has altogether been in gaol\nfor thirteen years and eleven months.  He came over to England,\ngot mixed up with thieves and casuals here, and did several short terms\nof imprisonment.  He was met on his release at Millbank by an old chum\n(Buff) and the Shelter Captain; came to Shelter, got saved, and has\nstood firm.\n\nH. A.--Born at Deptford, 1850.  Saved at Clerkenwell, January 12th,\n1889.  Lost mother in early life, step-mother difficulty supervening,\nand a propensity to misappropriation of small things developed into\nthieving.  He followed the sea, became a hard drinker, a foul-mouthed\nblasphemer, and a blatant spouter of infidelity.  He drifted about for\nyears, ashore and afloat, and eventually reached the Shelter stranded.\nHere he sought God, and has done well.  This summer he had charge of a\ngang of haymakers sent into the country, and stood the ordeal\nsatisfactorily.  He seems honest in his profession, and strives\npatiently to follow after God.  He is at the workshops.\n\nH. S.--Born at A---, in Scotland.  Like most Scotch lads although\nparents were in poor circumstances he managed to get a good education.\nEarly in life he took to newspaper work, and picked up the details of\nthe journalistic profession in several prominent papers in N.B.\nEventually he got a position on a provincial newspaper, and having put\nin a course at Glasgow University, graduated B.A.  there.  After this\nhe was on the staff of a Welsh paper.  He married a decent girl,\nand had several little ones, but giving way to drink, lost position,\nwife, family, and friends.  At times he would struggle up and recover\nhimself, and appears generally to have been able to secure a position,\nbut again and again his besetment overcame him, and each time he would\ndrift lower and lower.  For a time he was engaged in secretarial work\non a prominent London Charity, but fell repeatedly, and at length was\ndismissed.  He came to us an utter outcast, was sent to Shelter and\nWorkshop got saved, and is now in a good situation.  He gives every\npromise, and those best able to judge seem very sanguine that at last a\nreal good work has been accomplished in him.\n\nF. D.--Was born in London, and brought up to the iron trade.\nHeld several good situations, losing one after another, from drink and\nirregularity.  On one occasion, with #20 in his pocket, he started for\nManchester, got drunk there, was locked up and fined five shillings,\nand fifteen shillings costs; this he paid, and as he was leaving the\nCourt, a gentleman stopped him, saying that he knew his father,\nand inviting him to his house; however, with #10 in his pocket, he was\ntoo independent, and he declined; but the gentleman gave him his\naddress, and left him.  A few days squandered his cash, and clothes\nsoon followed, all disappearing for drink, and then without a coin he\npresented himself at the address given to him, at ten o'clock at night.\nIt turned out to be his uncle, who gave him #2 to go back to London,\nbut this too disappeared for liquor.  He tramped back to London utterly\ndestitute.  Several nights were passed on the Embankment, and on one\noccasion a gentleman gave him a ticket for the Shelter; this, however,\nhe sold for 2d. and had a pint of beer, and stopped out all night.\nBut it set him thinking, and he determined next day to raise 4d. and\nsee what a Shelter was like.  He came to Whitechapel, became a regular\ncustomer, eight months ago got saved, and is now doing well.\n\nF. H.--Was born at Birmingham, 1858.  Saved at Whitechapel,\nMarch 26th, 1890.  Father died in his infancy, mother marrying again.\nThe stepfather was a drunken navvy, and used to knock the mother about,\nand the lad was left to the streets.  At 12 years of age he left home,\nand tramped to Liverpool, begging his way, and sleeping on the\nroadsides.  In Liverpool he lived about the Docks for some days,\nsleeping where he could.  Police found him and returned him to\nBirmingham; his reception being an unmerciful thrashing from the\ndrunken stepfather.  He got several jobs as errand-boy, remarkable for\nhis secret pilferings, and two years later left with fifty shillings\nstolen money, and reached Middlesbrough by road.  Got work in a nail\nfactory stayed nine months, then stole nine shillings from\nfellow-lodger, and again took the road.  He reached Birmingham, and\nfinding a warrant out for him, joined the Navy.  He was in the\nImpregnable training-ship three years behaved himself, only getting\n\"one dozen,\" and was transferred with character marked \"good\" to the\nIron Duke in the China seas; soon got drinking, and was locked up and\nimprisoned for riotous conduct in almost every port in the stations.\nHe broke ship, and deserted several times, and was a thorough specimen\nof a bad British tar.  He saw gaol in Signapore, Hong Kong, Yokohama,\nShanghai, Canton, and other places.  In five years returned home, and,\nafter furlough, joined the Belle Isle in the Irish station.  Whisky\nhere again got hold of him, and excess ruined his constitution.\nOn his leave he had married, and on his discharge joined his wife in\nBirmingham.  For some time he worked as sweeper in the market, but two\nyears ago deserted his wife and family, and came to London, settled\ndown to a loafer's life, lived on the streets with Casual Wards for his\nhome.  Eventually came to Whitechapel Shelter, and got saved.\nHe is now a trustworthy, reliable lad; has become reconciled to wife,\nwho came to London to see him, and he bids fair to be a useful man.\n\nJ. W. S.--Born in Plymouth.  His parents are respectable people.\nHe is clever at his business, and has held good situations.  Two years\nago he came to London, fell into evil courses, and took to drink.\nLost situation after situation, and kept on drinking; lost everything,\nand came to the streets.  He found out Westminster Shelter,\nand eventually got saved; his parents were communicated with, and help\nand clothes forthcoming; with Salvation came hope and energy; he got a\nsituation at Lewisham (7d. per hour) at his trade.  Four months\nstanding, and is a promising Soldier as well as a respectable mechanic.\n\nJ. T.--Born in Ireland; well educated (commercially); clerk and\naccountant.  Early in life joined the Queen's Army, and by good conduct\nworked his way up.  Was orderly-room clerk and paymaster's assistant in\nhis regiment.  He led a steady life whilst in the service, and at the\nexpiration of his term passed into the Reserve with a \"very good\"\ncharacter.  He was a long time unemployed, and this appears to have\nreduced him to despair, and so to drink.  He sank to the lowest ebb,\nand came to Westminster in a deplorable condition; coatless, hatless,\nshirtless, dirty altogether, a fearful specimen of what a man of good\nparentage can be brought to.  After being at Shelter some time, he got\nsaved, was passed to Workshops, and gave great satisfaction.\nAt present he is doing clerical work and gives satisfaction as a workman:\na good influence in the place.\n\nJ. S.--Born in London, of decent parentage.  From a child he\nexhibited thieving propensities; soon got into the hands of the police,\nand was in and out of gaol continually.  He led the life of a confirmed\ntramp, and roved all over the United Kingdom.  He has been in penal\nservitude three times, and his last term was for seven years, with\npolice supervision.  After his release he married a respectable girl,\nand tried to reform, but circumstances were against him; character he\nhad none, a gaol career only to recommend him, and so he and his wife\neventually drifted to destitution.  They came to the Shelter, and asked\nadvice; they were received, and he made application to the sitting\nMagistrate at Clerkenwell as to a situation, and what he ought to do.\nThe Magistrate helped him, and thanked the Salvation Army for its\nefforts in behalf of him and such as he, and asked us to look after the\napplicant.  A little work was given him, and after a time a good\nsituation procured.  To-day they have a good time; he is steadily\nemployed, and both are serving God, holding the respect and confidence\nof neighbours, etc.\n\nE. G.--Came to England in the service of a family of position,\nand afterwards was butler and upper servant in several houses of the\nnobility.  His health broke down, and for a long time he was altogether\nunfit for work.  He had saved a considerable sum of money, but the cost\nof doctors and the necessaries of a sick man soon played havoc with his\nlittle store, and he became reduced to penury and absolute want.\nFor some time he was in the Workhouse, and, being discharged,\nhe was advised to go to the Shelter.  He was low in health as well as\nin circumstances, and broken in spirit, almost despairing.  He was\nlovingly advised to cast his care upon God, and eventually he was\nconverted.  After some time work was obtained as porter in a City\nwarehouse.  Assiduity and faithfulness in a year raised him to the\nposition of traveller.  Today he prospers in body and soul, retaining\nthe respect and confidence of all associated with him.\n\nWe might multiply these records, but those given show the kind of\nresults attained.\n\nThere's no reason to think that influences which have been blessed of\nGod to the salvation of these poor fellows will not be equally\nefficacious if applied on a wider scale and over a vaster area.\n\nThe thing to be noted in all these cases is that it was not the mere\nfeeding which effected the result; it was the combination of the\nfeeding with the personal labour for the individual soul.  Still, if we\nhad not fed them, we should never have come near enough to gain any\nhold upon their hearts.  If we had merely fed them, they would have\ngone away next day to resume, with increased energy, the predatory and\nvagrant life which they had been leading.  But when our feeding and\nShelter Depots brought them to close quarters, our officers were\nliterally able to put their arms round their necks and plead with them\nas brethren who had gone astray.  We told them that their sins and\nsorrows had not shut them out from the love of the Everlasting Father,\nwho had sent us to them to help them with all the power of our strong\nOrganisation, of the Divine authority of which we never feel so sure as\nwhen it is going forth to seek and to save the lost.\n\n\nSECTION 2.--WORK FOR THE OUT-OF-WORKS.--THE FACTORY.\n\nThe foregoing, it will be said, is all very well for your outcast when\nhe has got fourpence in his pocket, but what if he has not got his\nfourpence?  What if you are confronted with a crowd of hungry desperate\nwretches, without even a penny in their pouch, demanding food and\nshelter?  This objection is natural enough, and has been duly\nconsidered from the first.\n\nI propose to establish in connection with every Food and Shelter Depot\na Workshop or Labour Yard, in which any person who comes destitute and\nstarving will be supplied with sufficient work to enable him to earn\nthe fourpence needed for his bed and board.  This is a fundamental\nfeature of the Scheme, and one which I think will commend it to all\nthose who are anxious to benefit the poor by enabling them to help\nthemselves without the demoralising intervention of charitable relief.\n\nLet us take our stand for a moment at the door of one of our Shelters.\nThere comes along a grimy, ragged, footsore tramp, his feet bursting\nout from the sides of his shoes, his clothes all rags, with filthy\nshirt and towselled hair.  He has been, he tells you, on the tramp for\nthe last three weeks, seeking work and finding none, slept last night\non the Embankment, and wants to know if you can give him a bite and a\nsup, and shelter for the night.  Has he any money?  Not he; he probably\nspent the last penny he begged or earned in a pipe of tobacco, with\nwhich to dull the cravings of his hungry stomach.  What are you to do\nwith this man?\n\nRemember this is no fancy sketch--it is a typical case.  There are\nhundreds and thousands of such applicants.  Any one who is at all\nfamiliar with life in London and our other large towns, will recognise\nthat gaunt figure standing there asking for bread and shelter or for\nwork by which he can obtain both.  What can we do with him?  Before him\nSociety stands paralysed, quieting its conscience every now and then by\nan occasional dole of bread and soup, varied with the semi-criminal\ntreatment of the Casual Ward, until the manhood is crushed out of the\nman and you have in your hands a reckless, despairing, spirit-broken\ncreature, with not even an aspiration to rise above his miserable\ncircumstances, covered with vermin and filth, sinking ever lower and\nlower, until at last he is hurried out of sight in the rough shell\nwhich carries him to a pauper's grave.\n\nI propose to take that man, put a strong arm round him, and extricate\nhim from the mire in which he is all but suffocated.  As a first step we\nwill say to him, \"You are hungry, here is food; you are homeless, here\nis a shelter for your head; but remember you must work for your\nrations.  This is not charity; it is work for the workless, help for\nthose who cannot help themselves.  There is the labour shed, go and earn\nyour fourpence, and then come in out of the cold and the wet into the\nwarm shelter; here is your mug of coffee and your great chunk of bread,\nand after you have finished these there is a meeting going on in full\nswing with its joyful music and hearty human intercourse.  There are\nthose who pray for you and with you, and will make you feel yourself a\nbrother among men.  There is your shake-down on the floor, where you\nwill have your warm, quiet bed, undisturbed by the ribaldry and curses\nwith which you have been familiar too long.  There is the wash-house,\nwhere you can have a thorough wash-up at last, after all these days of\nunwashedness.  There is plenty of soap and warm water and clean towels;\nthere, too, you can wash your shirt and have it dried while you sleep.\nIn the morning when you get up there will be breakfast for you,\nand your shirt will be dry and clean.  Then when you are washed and\nrested, and are no longer faint with hunger, you can go and seek a job,\nor go back to the Labour shop until something better turns up.\"\n\nBut where and how?\n\nNow let me introduce you to our Labour Yard.  Here is no pretence\nof charity beyond the charity which gives a man remunerative labour.\nIt is not our business to pay men wages.  What we propose is to enable\nthose, male or female, who are destitute, to earn their rations and do\nenough work to pay for their lodging until they are able to go out into\nthe world and earn wages for themselves.  There is no compulsion upon\nany one to resort to our shelter, but if a penniless man wants food he\nmust, as a rule, do work sufficient to pay for what he has of that and\nof other accommodation.  I say as a rule because, of course, our\nOfficers will be allowed to make exceptions in extreme cases, but the\nrule will be first work then eat.  And that amount of work will be\nexacted rigorously.  It is that which distinguishes this Scheme from\nmere charitable relief.\n\nI do not wish to have any hand in establishing a new centre of\ndemoralisation.  I do not want my customers to be pauperised by being\ntreated to anything which they do not earn.  To develop self-respect in\nthe man, to make him feel that at last he has go this foot planted on\nthe first rung of the ladder which leads upwards, is vitally important,\nand this cannot be done unless the bargain between him and me is\nstrictly carried out.  So much coffee, so much bread, so much shelter,\nso much warmth and light from me, but so much labour in return from\nhim.\n\nWhat labour? it is asked.  For answer to this question I would like to\ntake you down to our Industrial Workshops in Whitechapel.  There you\nwill see the Scheme in experimental operation.  What we are doing there\nwe propose to do everywhere up to the extent of the necessity, and\nthere is no reason why we should fail elsewhere if we can succeed\nthere.\n\nOur Industrial Factory at Whitechapel was established this Spring.\nWe opened it on a very small scale.  It has developed until we have\nnearly ninety men at work.  Some of these are skilled workmen who are\nengaged in carpentry.  The particular job they have now in hand is the\nmaking of benches for the Salvation Army.  Others are engaged in\nmat-making, some are cobblers, others painters, and so forth.\nThis trial effort has, so far, answered admirably.  No one who is taken\non comes for a permanency.  So long as he is willing to work for his\nrations he is supplied with materials and provided with skilled\nsuperintendents.  The hours of work are eight per day.  Here are the\nrules and regulations under which the work is carried on at present:-\n\nTHE SALVATION ARMY SOCIAL REFORM WING.\n\nTemporary Headquarters--\n36, UPPER THAMES STREET, LONDON, E.C,\n\nCITY INDUSTRIAL WORKSHOPS.\n\nOBJECTS.--These workshops are open for the relief of the unemployed\nand destitute, the object being to make it unnecessary for the homeless\nor workless to be compelled to go to the Workhouse or Casual Ward,\nfood and shelter being provided for them in exchange for work done by\nthem, until they can procure work for themselves, or it can be found\nfor them elsewhere.\n\nPLAN OF OPERATION.--All those applying for assistance will be placed\nin what is termed the first class.  They must be willing to do any kind\nof work allotted to them.  While they remain in the first class,\nthey shall be entitled to three meals a day, and shelter for the night,\nand will be expected in return to cheerfully perform the work allotted\nto them.\n\nPromotions will be made from this first-class to the second-class of\nall those considered eligible by the Labour Directors.  They will,\nin addition to the food and shelter above mentioned, receive sums of\nmoney up to 5s. at the end of the week, for the purpose of assisting\nthem to provide themselves with tools, to get work outside.\n\nREGULATIONS.--No smoking, drinking, bad language, or conduct\ncalculated to demoralize will be permitted on the factory premises.\nNo one under the influence of drink will be admitted.  Any one refusing\nto work, or guilty of bad conduct, will be required to leave the\npremises.\n\nHOURS OF WORK.--7 a.m. to 8.30 a.m.; 9 a.m. to 1 p.m.;\n2 p.m. to 5.30 p.m, Doors will be closed 5 minutes after 7, 9,\nand 2 p.m.  Food Checks will be given to all as they pass out at each\nmeal time.  Meals and Shelter provided at 272, Whitechapel Road.\n\nOur practical experience shows that we can provide work by which a man\ncan earn his rations.  We shall be careful not to sell the goods so\nmanufactured at less than the market prices.  In firewood, for instance,\nwe have endeavoured to be rather above the average than below it.\nAs stated elsewhere, we are firmly opposed to injuring one class of\nworkmen while helping another.\n\nAttempts on somewhat similar lines to those now being described have\nhitherto excited the liveliest feelings of jealousy on the part of the\nTrade Unions, and representatives of labour.  They rightly consider it\nunfair that labour partly paid for out of the Rates and Taxes, or by\nCharitable Contributions, should be put upon the market at less than\nmarket value, and so compete unjustly with the production of those who\nhave in the first instance to furnish an important quota of the funds\nby which these Criminal or Pauper workers are supported.  No such\njealousy can justly exist in relation to our Scheme, seeing that we are\nendeavouring to raise the standard of labour and are pledged to a war\nto the death against sweating in every shape and form.\n\nBut, it will be asked, how do these Out-of-Works conduct themselves\nwhen you get them into the Factory?  Upon this point I have a very\nsatisfactory report to render.  Many, no doubt, are below par,\nunder-fed, and suffering from ill health, or the consequence of their\nintemperance.  Many also are old men, who have been crowded out of the\nlabour market by their younger generation.  But, without making too\nmany allowances on these grounds, I may fairly say that these men have\nshown themselves not only anxious and willing, but able to work.\nOur Factory Superintendent reports:-\n\nOf loss or time there has practically been none since the opening,\nJune 29th.  Each man during his stay, with hardly an exception,\nhas presented himself punctually at opening time and worked more or\nless assiduously the whole of the labour hours.  The morals of the men\nhave been good, in not more than three instances has there been an\novert act of disobedience, insubordination, or mischief.  The men, as a\nwhole, are uniformly civil, willing, and satisfied; they are all fairly\nindustrious, some, and that not a few, are assiduous and energetic.\nThe Foremen have had no serious complaints to make or delinquencies to\nreport.\n\nOn the 15th of August I had a return made of the names and trades and\nmode of employment of the men at work.  Of the forty in the shops at\nthat moment, eight were carpenters, twelve labourers, two tailors,\ntwo sailors, three clerks, two engineers, while among the rest was a\nshoemaker, two grocers, a cooper, a sailmaker, a musician, a painter,\nand a stonemason.  Nineteen of these were employed in sawing, cutting\nand tying up firewood, six were making mats, seven making sacks, and\nthe rest were employed in various odd jobs.  Among them was a Russian\ncarpenter who could not speak a word of English.  The whole place is a\nhive of industry which fills the hearts of those who go to see it with\nhope that something is about to be done to solve the difficulty of the\nunemployed.\n\nAlthough our Factories will be permanent institutions they will not be\nanything more than temporary resting-places to those who avail\nthemselves of their advantages.  They are harbours of refuge into which\nthe storm-tossed workman may run and re-fit, so that he may again push\nout to the ordinary sea of labour and earn his living.\nThe establishment of these Industrial Factories seems to be one of the\nmost obvious duties of those who would effectually deal with the Social\nProblem.  They are as indispensable a link in the chain of deliverance\nas the Shelters, but they are only a link and not a stopping-place.\nAnd we do not propose that they should be regarded as anything but\nstepping-stones to better things.\n\nThese Shops will also be of service for men and women temporarily\nunemployed who have families, and who possess some sort of a home.\nIn numerous instances, if by any means these unfortunates could find\nbread and rent for a few weeks, they would tide over their\ndifficulties, and an untold amount of misery would be averted, In such\ncases Work would be supplied at their own homes where preferred,\nespecially for the women and children, and such remuneration would be\naimed at as would supply the immediate necessities of the hour.\nTo those who have rent to pay and families to support something beyond\nrations would be indispensable.\n\nThe Labour Shops will enable us to work out our Anti-Sweating\nexperiments.  For instance, we propose at once to commence manufacturing\nmatch boxes, for which we shall aim at giving nearly treble the amount\nat present paid to the poor starving creatures engaged in this work.\n\nIn all these workshops our success will depend upon the extent to which\nwe are able to establish and maintain in the minds of the workers sound\nmoral sentiments and to cultivate a spirit of hopefulness and\naspiration.  We shall continually seek to impress upon them the fact\nthat while we desire to feed the hungry, and clothe the naked, and\nprovide shelter for the shelterless, we are still more anxious to bring\nabout that regeneration of heart and life which is essential to their\nfuture happiness and well-being.\n\nBut no compulsion will for a moment be allowed with respect to religion.\nThe man who professes to love and serve God will be helped because of\nsuch profession, and the man who does not will be helped in the hope\nthat he will, sooner or later, in gratitude to God, do the same; but\nthere will be no melancholy misery-making for any.  There is no\nsanctimonious long face in the Army.  We talk freely about Salvation,\nbecause it is to us the very light and joy of our existence.\nWe are happy, and we wish others to share our joy.  We know by our own\nexperience that life is a very different thing when we have found the\npeace of God, and are working together with Him for the salvation of\nthe world, instead of toiling for the realisation of worldly ambition\nor the amassing of earthly gain.\n\n\nSECTION 3.--THE REGIMENTATION OF THE UNEMPLOYED.\n\nWhen we have got the homeless, penniless tramp washed, and housed,\nand fed at the Shelter, and have secured him the means of earning his\nfourpence by chopping firewood, or making mats or cobbling the shoes of\nhis fellow-labourers at the Factory, we have next to seriously address\nourselves to the problem of how to help him to get back into the\nregular ranks of industry.  The Shelter and the Factory are but\nstepping-stones, which have this advantage, they give us time to look\nround and to see what there is in a man and what we can make of him.\n\nThe first and most obvious thing to do is to ascertain whether there is\nany demand in the regular market for the labour which is thus thrown\nupon our hands.  In order to ascertain this I have already established a\nLabour Bureau, the operations of which I shall at once largely extend,\nat which employers can register their needs, and workmen can register\ntheir names and the kind of work they can do.\n\nAt present there is no labour exchange in existence in this country.\nThe columns of the daily newspaper are the only substitute for this\nmuch needed register.  It is one of the many painful consequences\narising from the overgrowth of cities.  In a village where everybody\nknows everybody else this necessity does not exist.  If a farmer wants\na couple of extra men for mowing or some more women for binding at\nharvest time, he runs over in his mind the names of every available\nperson in the parish.  Even in a small town there is little difficulty\nin knowing who wants employment.  But in the cities this knowledge is\nnot available; hence we constantly hear of persons who would be very\nglad to employ labour for odd jobs in an occasional stress of work\nwhile at the same time hundreds of persons are starving for want of\nwork at another end of the town.  To meet this evil the laws of Supply\nand Demand have created the Sweating Middlemen, who farm out the\nunfortunates and charge so heavy a commission for their share that the\npoor wretches who do the work receive hardly enough to keep body and\nsoul together.  I propose to change all this by establishing Registers\nwhich will enable us to lay our hands at a moment's notice upon all the\nunemployed men in a district in any particular trade.  In this way we\nshould become the universal intermediary between those who have no\nemployment and those who want workmen.\n\nIn this we do not propose to supersede or interfere with the regular\nTrade Unions.  Where Unions exist we should place ourselves in every\ncase in communication with their officials.  But the most helpless mass\nof misery is to be found among the unorganised labourers who have no\nUnion, and who are, therefore, the natural prey of the middleman.\nTake, for instance, one of the most wretched classes of the community,\nthe poor fellows who perambulate the streets as Sandwich Men.  These\nare farmed out by certain firms.  If you wish to send fifty or a\nhundred men through London carrying boards announcing the excellence of\nyour goods, you go to an advertising firm who will undertake to supply\nyou with as many sandwich men as you want for two shillings or half a\ncrown a day.  The men are forthcoming, your goods are advertised,\nyou pay your money, but how much of that goes to the men?  About one\nshilling, or one shilling and threepence; the rest goes to the\nmiddleman.  I propose to supersede this middleman by forming a\nCo-operative Association of Sandwich Men.  At every Shelter there would\nbe a Sandwich Brigade ready in any numbers when wanted.  The cost of\nregistration and organisation, which the men would gladly pay, need not\ncertainly amount to more than a penny in the shilling.\n\nAll that is needed is to establish a trustworthy and disinterested\ncentre round which the unemployed can group themselves, and which will\nform the nucleus of a great Co-operative Self-helping Association. The\nadvantages of such a Bureau are obvious.  But in this, also, I do not\nspeak from theory.  I have behind me the experience of seven months of\nlabour both in England and Australia.  In London we have a registration\noffice in Upper Thames Street, where the unemployed come every morning\nin droves to register their names and to see whether they can obtain\nsituations.  In Australia, I see, it was stated in the House of\nAssembly that our Officers had been instrumental in finding situations\nfor no less than one hundred and thirty-two \"Out-of-Works\" in a few\ndays.  Here, in London, we have succeeded in obtaining employment for a\ngreat number, although, of course, it is beyond our power to help all\nthose who apply.  We have sent hay-makers down to the country and there\nis every reason to believe that when our Organisation is better known,\nand in more extended operation, we shall have a great labour exchange\nbetween town and country, so that when there is scarcity in one place\nand congestion in another, there will be information immediately sent,\nso that the surplus labour can be drafted into those districts where\nlabour is wanted.  For instance, in the harvest seasons,\nwith changeable weather, it is quite a common occurrence for the crops\nto be seriously damaged for want of labourers, while at the same time\nthere will be thousands wandering about in the big towns and cities\nseeking work, but finding no one to hire them.  Extend this system all\nover the world, and make it not only applicable to the transfer of\nworkers between the towns and the provinces, but between Country and\nCountry, and it is impossible to exaggerate the enormous advantages\nwhich would result.  The officer in charge of our experimental Labour\nBureau sends me the following notes as to what has already been done\nthrough the agency of the Upper Thames Street office:\n\nSALVATION ARMY SOCIAL REFORM WING.\n\nLABOR BUREAU.\n\nBureau opened June 16th, 1890.  The following are particulars of\ntransactions up to September 26th, 1890: --\n\n Applications for employment--Men   ..   ..   2462\n                                Women    ..    208\n                                             -----   2670\n                                                     ====\n\n Applications from Employers for Men     ..    128\n                                 Women   ..     59\n                                             -----    187\n                                                     ====\n\n Sent to Work--Men    ..   ..   ..   ..   ..   301\n                 Women     ..   ..   ..   ..    68\n                                              ----    369\n                                                     ====\n\n Permanent Situations ..   ..   ..   ..   ..   146\n\n Temporary Employment,\n viz: --Boardmen, Cleaners, &c., &c  ..   ..   223\n\n Sent to Workshop in Hanbury Street  ..   ..          165\n                                                     ====\n\n\nSECTION 4.--THE HOUSEHOLD SALVAGE BRIGADE.\n\nIt is obvious that the moment you begin to find work for the unemployed\nlabour of the community, no matter what you do by way of the\nregistration and bringing together of those who want work and those who\nwant workers, there will still remain a vast residuum of unemployed,\nand it will be the duty of those who undertake to deal with the\nquestion to devise means for securing them employment.  Many things are\npossible when there is a directing intelligence at headquarters and\ndiscipline in the rank and file, which would be utterly impossible when\neveryone is left to go where he pleases, when ten men are running for\none man's job, and when no one can be depended upon to be in the way at\nthe time he is wanted.  When my Scheme is carried out, there will be in\nevery populous centre a Captain of Industry, an Officer specially\ncharged with the regimentation of unorganised labour, who would be\ncontinually on the alert, thinking how best to utilise the waste human\nmaterial in his district.  It is contrary to all previous experience to\nsuppose that the addition of so much trained intelligence will not\noperate beneficially in securing the disposal of a commodity which is\nat present a drug in the market.\n\nRobertson, of Brighton, used frequently to remark that every truth was\nbuilt up of two apparent contradictory propositions.  In the same way I\nmay say that the solution of every social difficulty is to be found in\nthe discovery of two corresponding difficulties.  It is like the puzzle\nmaps of children.  When you are putting one together, you suddenly come\nupon some awkward piece that will not fit in anywhere, but you do not\nin disgust and despair break your piece into fragments or throw it\naway.  On the contrary, you keep it by you, knowing that before long\nyou will discover a number of other pieces which it will be impossible\nto fit in until you fix your unmanageable, unshapely piece in the\ncentre.  Now, in the work of piecing together the fragments which lie\nscattered around the base of our social system we must not despair\nbecause we have in the unorganised, untrained labourers that which\nseems hopelessly out of fit with everything around.  There must be\nsomething corresponding to it which is equally useless until he can be\nbrought to bear upon it.  In other words, having got one difficulty in\nthe case of the Out-of-Works, we must cast about to find another\ndifficulty to pair off against it, and then out of two difficulties\nwill arise the solution of the problem.\n\nWe shall not have far to seek before we discover in every town and in\nevery country the corresponding element to our unemployed labourer.\nWe have waste labour on the one hand; we have waste commodities on the\nother.  About waste land I shall speak in the next chapter;\nI am concerned now solely with waste commodities.  Herein we have a\nmeans of immediately employing a large number of men under conditions\nwhich will enable us to permanently provide for many of those whose\nhard lot we are now considering.\n\nI propose to establish in every large town what I may call \"A Household\nSalvage Brigade,\" a civil force of organised collectors, who will\npatrol the whole town as regularly as the policeman, who will have\ntheir appointed beats, and each of whom will been trusted with the task\nof collecting the waste of the houses in their circuit.  In small towns\nand villages this is already done, and it will be noticed that most of\nthe suggestions which I have put forth in this book are based upon the\ncentral principle, which is that of restoring; to the over-grown, and,\ntherefore, uninformed masses of population in our towns the same\nintelligence and co-operation as to the mutual wants of each and all,\nthat prevails in your small town or village.  The latter is the\nmanageable unit, because its dimensions and its needs have not\nout-grown the range of the individual intelligence and ability of those\nwho dwell therein.  Our troubles in large towns arise chiefly from the\nfact that the massing of population has caused the physical bulk of\nSociety to outgrow its intelligence.  It is as if a human being had\nsuddenly developed fresh limbs which were not connected by any nervous\nsystem with the gray matter of his brain.  Such a thing is impossible\nin the human being, but, unfortunately, it is only too possible in\nhuman society.  In the human body no member can suffer without an\ninstantaneous telegram being despatched, as it were, to the seat of\nintelligence; the foot or the finger cries out when it suffers, and the\nwhole body suffers with it.  So, in a small community, every one, rich\nand poor, is more or less cognizant of the sufferings of the community.\nIn a large town, where people have ceased to be neighbourly, there is\nonly a congested mass of population settled down on a certain small\narea without any human ties connecting them together.  Here, it is\nperfectly possible, and it frequently happens, that men actually die of\nstarvation within a few doors of those who, if they had been informed\nof the actual condition of the sufferer that lay within earshot of\ntheir comfortable drawing-rooms, would have been eager to minister the\nneeded relief.  What we have to do, therefore, is to grow a new nervous\nsystem for the body politic, to create a swift, almost automatic, means\nof communication between the community as a whole and the meanest of\nits members, so as to restore to the city what the village possesses.\n\nI do not say that the plan which I have suggested is the only plan or\nthe best plan conceivable.  All that I claim for it is that it is the\nonly plan which I can conceive as practicable at the present moment,\nand that, as a matter of fact, it holds the field alone, for no one,\nso far as I have been able to discover, even proposes to reconstitute\nthe connection between what I have called the gray matter of the brain\nof the municipal community and all the individual units which make up\nthe body politic.\n\nCarrying out the same idea I come to the problem of the waste\ncommodities of the towns, and we will take this as an earnest of the\nworking out of the general principle.  In the villages there is very\nlittle waste.  The sewage is applied directly to the land, and so\nbecomes a source of wealth instead of being emptied into great\nsubterranean reservoirs, to generate poisonous gases, which by a most\ningenious arrangement, are then poured forth into the very heart of our\ndwellings, as is the case in the great cities.  Neither is there any\nwaste of broken victuals.  The villager has his pig or his poultry, or\nif he has not a pig his neighbour has one, and the collection of broken\nvictuals is conducted as regularly as the delivery of the post.  And as\nit is with broken victuals, so it is with rags and bones, and old iron,\nand all the debris of a household.  When I was a boy one of the most\nfamiliar figures in the streets of a country town was the man, who,\nwith his small hand-barrow or donkey-cart, made a regular patrol\nthrough all the streets once a week, collecting rags, bones, and all\nother waste materials, buying the same from the juveniles who collected\nthem in specie, not of Her Majesty's current coin, but of common\nsweetmeats, known as \"claggum\" or \"taffy.\"  When the tootling of his\nfamiliar horn was heard the children would bring out their stores, and\ntrade as best they could with the itinerant merchant, with the result\nthat the closets which in our towns to-day have become the receptacles\nof all kinds of, disused lumber were kept then swept and garnished.\nNow, what I want to know is why can we not establish on a scale\ncommensurate with our extended needs the rag-and-bone industry in all\nour great towns?  That there is sufficient to pay for the collection is,\nI think, indisputable.  If it paid in a small North-country town or\nMidland village, why would it not pay much better in an area where the\nhouses stand more closely together, and where luxurious living and\nthriftless habits have so increased that there must be proportionately\nfar more breakage, more waste, and, therefore, more collectable matter\nthan in the rural districts?  In looking over the waste of London it has\noccurred to me that in the debris of our households there is sufficient\nfood, it utilised, to feed many of the starving poor, and to employ\nsome thousands of them in its collection, and, in addition, largely to\nassist the general scheme.  What I propose would be to go to work on\nsomething like the following plan:-\n\nLondon would be divided into districts, beginning with that portion of\nit most likely to furnish the largest supplies of what would be worth\ncollection.  Two men, or a man and a boy, would be told of for this\npurpose to this district.\n\nHouseholds would be requested to allow a receptacle to be placed in\nsome convenient spot in which the servants could deposit the waste\nfood, and a sack of some description would also be supplied for the\npaper, rags, &c.\n\nThe whole would be collected, say once or twice a week, or more\nfrequently, according to the season and circumstances, and transferred\nto depots as central as possible to the different districts.\n\nAt present much of this waste is thrown into the dust-bin, there to\nfester and breed disease.  Then there are old newspapers, ragged books,\nold bottles, tins, canisters, etc.  We all know what a number of\narticles there are which are not quite bad enough to be thrown into the\ndust heap, and yet are no good to us.  We put them on one side,\nhoping that something may turn up, and as that something very seldom\ndoes turn up, there they remain.\n\nCrippled musical instruments, for instance, old toys, broken-down\nperambulators, old clothes, all the things, in short, for which we have\nno more need, and for which there is no market within our reach, but\nwhich we feel it would be a sin and a shame to destroy.\n\nWhen I get my Household Salvage Brigade properly organised, beginning,\nas I said, in some district where we should be likely to meet with most\nmaterial, our uniformed collectors would call every other day or twice\na week with their hand barrow or pony cart.  As these men would be\nunder strict discipline, and numbered, the householder would have a\nsecurity against any abuse of which such regular callers might\notherwise be the occasion.\n\nAt present the rag and bone man who drives a more or less precarious\nlivelihood by intermittent visits, is looked upon askance by prudent\nhousewives.  They fear in many cases he takes the refuse in order to\nhave the opportunity of finding something which may be worth while\n\"picking up,\" and should he be impudent or negligent there is no\nauthority to whom they can appeal.  Under our Brigade, each district\nwould have its numbered officer, who would himself be subordinate to a\nsuperior officer, to whom any complaints could be made, and whose duty\nit would be to see that the officers under his command punctually\nperformed their rounds and discharged their duties without offence.\n\nHere let me disclaim any intention of interfering with the Little\nSisters of the Poor, or any other persons, who collect the broken\nvictuals of hotels and other establishments for charitable purposes.\nMy object is not to poach on my neighbour's domains, nor shall I ever\nbe a party to any contentious quarrels for the control of this or that\nsource of supply.  All that is already utilised I regard as outside my\nsphere.  The unoccupied wilderness of waste is a wide enough area for\nthe operations of our Brigade.  But it will be found in practice that\nthere are no competing agencies.  While the broken victuals of certain\nlarge hotels are regularly collected, the things before enumerated,\nand a number of others, are untouched because not sought after.\n\nOf the immense extent to which Food is wasted few people have any\nnotion except those who have made actual experiments.  Some years ago,\nLady Wolseley established a system of collection from house to house in\nMayfair, in order to secure materials for a charitable kitchen which,\nin concert with Baroness Burdett-Coutts, she had started at\nWestminster.  The amount of the food which she gathered was enormous.\nSometimes legs of mutton from which only one or two slices had been cut\nwere thrown into the tub, where they waited for the arrival of the cart\non its rounds.  It is by no means an excessive estimate to assume that\nthe waste of the kitchens of the West End would provide a sufficient\nsustenance for all the Out-of-Works who will be employed in our labour\nsheds at the industrial centres.  All that it needs is collection,\nprompt, systematic, by disciplined men who can be relied upon to\ndischarge their task with punctuality and civility, and whose failure\nin this duty can be directly brought to the attention of the\ncontrolling authority.\n\nOf the utilisation of much of the food which is to be so collected I\nshall speak hereafter, when I come to describe the second great\ndivision of my scheme, namely the Farm Colony.  Much of the food\ncollected by the Household Salvage Brigade would not be available for\nhuman consumption.  In this the greatest care would be exercised,\nand the remainder would be dispatched, if possible, by barges down the\nriver to the Farm Colony, where we shall meet it hereafter.\n\nBut food is only one of the materials which we should handle.  At our\nWhitechapel Factory there is one shoemaker whom we picked off the\nstreets destitute and miserable.  He is now saved, and happy, and\ncobbles away at the shoe leather of his mates.  That shoemaker, I\nforesee, is but the pioneer of a whole army of shoemakers constantly at\nwork in repairing the cast-off boots and shoes of London.  Already in\nsome provincial towns a great business is done by the conversion of old\nshoes into new.  They call the men so employed translators.  Boots and\nshoes, as every wearer of them knows, do not go to pieces all at once\nor in all parts at once.  The sole often wears out utterly, while the\nupper leather is quite good, or the upper leather bursts while the sole\nremains practically in a salvable condition; but your individual pair\nof shoes and boots are no good to you when any section of them is\nhopelessly gone to the bad.  But give our trained artist in leather and\nhis army of assistants a couple of thousand pairs of boots and shoes,\nand it will go ill with him if out of the couple of thousand pairs of\nwrecks he cannot construct five hundred pairs, which, if not quite\ngood, will be immeasurably better than the apologies for boots which\ncover the feet of many a poor tramp, to say nothing of the thousands of\npoor children who are at the present moment attending our public\nschools.  In some towns they have already established a Boot and Shoe\nFund in order to provide the little ones who come to school with shoes\nwarranted not to let in water between the school house and home.  When\nyou remember the 43,000 children who are reported by the School Board\nto attend the schools of London alone unfed and starving, do you not\nthink there are many thousands to whom we could easily dispose, with\nadvantage, the resurrected shoes of our Boot Factory?\n\nThis, however, is only one branch of industry.  Take old umbrellas.\nWe all know the itinerant umbrella mender, whose appearance in the\nneighbourhood of the farmhouse leads the good wife to look after her\npoultry and to see well to it that the watchdog is on the premises.\nBut that gentleman is almost the only agency by which old umbrellas can\nbe rescued from the dust heap.  Side by side with our Boot Factory we\nshall have a great umbrella works.  The ironwork of one umbrella will\nbe fitted to the stick of another, and even from those that are too\nhopelessly gone for any further use as umbrellas we shall find plenty\nof use for their steels and whalebone.\n\nSo I might go on.  Bottles are a fertile source of minor domestic\nworry.  When you buy a bottle you have to pay a penny for it; but when\nyou have emptied it you cannot get a penny back; no, nor even a\nfarthing.  You throw your empty bottle either into the dust heap,\nor let it lie about.  But if we could collect all the waste bottles of\nLondon every day, it would go hardly with us if we could not turn a\nvery pretty penny by washing them, sorting them, and sending them out\non a new lease of life.  The washing of old bottles alone will keep a\nconsiderable number of people going.\n\nI can imagine the objection which will be raised by some shortsighted\npeople, that by giving the old, second-hand material a new lease of\nlife it will be said that we shall diminish the demand for new\nmaterial, and so curtail work and wages at one end while we are\nendeavouring to piece on something at the other.  This objection reminds\nme of a remark of a North Country pilot who, when speaking of the\ndulness in the shipbuilding industry, said that nothing would do any\ngood but a series of heavy storms, which would send a goodly number of\nocean-going steamers to the bottom, to replace which, this political\neconomist thought, the yards would once more be filled with orders.\nThis, however, is not the way in which work is supplied.  Economy is a\ngreat auxiliary to trade, inasmuch as the money saved is expended on\nother products of industry.\n\nThere is one material that is continually increasing in quantity, which\nis the despair of the life of the householder and of the Local Sanitary\nAuthority.  I refer to the tins in which provisions are supplied.\nNowadays everything comes to us in tins.  We have coffee tins,\nmeat tins, salmon tins, and tins ad nauseam.  Tin is becoming more and\nmore the universal envelope of the rations of man.  But when you have\nextracted the contents of the tin what can you do with it?\nHuge mountains of empty tins lie about every dustyard, for as yet no\nman has discovered a means of utilising them when in great masses.\nTheir market price is about four or five shillings a ton, but they are\nso light that it would take half a dozen trucks to hold a ton.\nThey formerly burnt them for the sake of the solder, but now, by a new\nprocess, they are jointed without solder.  The problem of the\nutilisation of the tins is one to which we would have to address\nourselves, and I am by no means desponding as to the result.\n\nI see in the old tins of London at least one means of establishing an\nindustry which is at present almost monopolised by our neighbours.\nMost of the toys which are sold in France on New Year's Day are almost\nentirely made of sardine tins collected in the French capital.  The toy\nmarket of England is at present far from being overstocked, for there\nare multitudes of children who have no toys worth speaking of with\nwhich to amuse themselves.  In these empty tins I see a means of\nemploying a large number of people in turning out cheap toys which will\nadd a new joy to the households of the poor--the poor to whom every\nfarthing is important, not the rich the rich can always get toys--but\nthe children of the poor, who live in one room and have nothing to look\nout upon but the slum or the street.  These desolate little things need\nour toys, and if supplied cheap enough they will take them in\nsufficient quantities to make it worth while to manufacture them.\n\nA whole book might be written concerning the utilisation of the waste\nof London.  But I am not going to write one.  I hope before long to do\nsomething much better than write a book, namely, to establish an\norganisation to utilise the waste, and then if I describe what is being\ndone it will be much better than by now explaining what I propose to do.\nBut there is one more waste material to which it is necessary to allude.\nI refer to old newspapers and magazines, and books.\nNewspapers accumulate in our houses until we sometimes burn them in\nsheer disgust.  Magazines and old books lumber our shelves until we\nhardly know where to turn to put a new volume.  My Brigade will relieve\nthe householder from these difficulties, and thereby become a great\ndistributing agency of cheap literature.  After the magazine has done\nits duty in the middle class household it can be passed on to the\nreading-rooms, workhouses, and hospitals.  Every publication issued\nfrom the Press that is of the slightest use to men and women will,\nby our Scheme, acquire a double share of usefulness.  It will be read\nfirst by its owner, and then by many people who would never otherwise\nsee it.\n\nWe shall establish an immense second-hand book shop.  All the best\nbooks that come into our hands will be exposed for sale, not merely at\nour central depots, but on the barrows of our peripatetic colporteurs,\nwho will go from street to street with literature which, I trust, will\nbe somewhat superior to the ordinary pabulum supplied to the poor.\nAfter we have sold all we could, and given away all that is needed to\npublic institutions, the remainder will be carried down to our great\nPaper Mill, of which we shall speak later, in connection with our Farm\nColony.\n\nThe Household Salvage Brigade will constitute an agency capable of\nbeing utilised to any extent for the distribution of parcels\nnewspapers, &c.  When once you have your reliable man who will call at\nevery house with the regularity of a postman, and go his beat with the\npunctuality of a policeman, you can do great things with him.  I do not\nneed to elaborate this point.  It will be a universal Corps of\nCommissionaires, created for the service of the public and in the\ninterests of the poor, which will bring us into direct relations with\nevery family in London, and will therefore constitute an unequalled\nmedium for the distribution of advertisements and the collection of\ninformation.\n\nIt does not require a very fertile imagination to see that when such a\nhouse-to-house visitation is regularly established, it will develop in\nall directions; and working, as it would, in connection with our\nAnti-sweating Shops and Industrial Colony, would probably soon become\nthe medium for negotiating sundry household repairs, from a broken\nwindow to a damaged stocking.  If a porter were wanted to move\nfurniture, or a woman wanted to do charing, or some one to clean\nwindows or any other odd job, the ubiquitous Servant of All who called\nfor the waste, either verbally or by postcard, would receive the order,\nand whoever was wanted would appear at the time desired without any\nfurther trouble on the part of the householder.\n\nOne word as to the cost.  There are five hundred thousand houses in the\nMetropolitan Police district.  To supply every house with a tub and a\nsack for the reception of waste would involve an initial expenditure\nwhich could not possibly be less than one shilling a house.  So huge is\nLondon, and so enormous the numbers with which we shall have to deal,\nthat this simple preliminary would require a cost of #25,000.\nOf course I do not propose to begin on anything like such a vast scale.\nThat sum, which is only one of the many expenditures involved, will\nserve to illustrate the extent of the operations which the Household\nSalvage Brigade will necessitate.  The enterprise is therefore beyond\nthe reach of any but a great and powerful organisation, commanding\ncapital and able to secure loyalty, discipline, and willing service.\n\n\nCHAPTER 3.  TO THE COUNTRY!--THE FARM COLONY.\n\nA leave on one side for a moment various features of the operations\nwhich will be indispensable but subsidiary to the City Colony, such as\nthe Rescue Homes for Lost Women, the Retreats for Inebriates, the Homes\nfor Discharged Prisoners, the Enquiry Office for the Discovery of Lost\nFriends and Relatives, and the Advice Bureau, which will, in time,\nbecome an institution that will be invaluable as a poor man's Tribune.\nAll these and other suggestions for saving the lost and helping the\npoor, although they form essential elements of the City Colony, will be\nbetter dealt with after I have explained the relation which the Farm\nColony will occupy to the City Colony, and set forth the way in which\nthe former will act as a feeder to the Colony Over sea.\n\nI have already described how I propose to deal, in the first case, with\nthe mass of surplus labour which will infallibly accumulate on our\nhands as soon as the Shelters are more extensively established and in\ngood working order.  But I fully recognise that when all has been done\nthat can be done in the direction of disposing of the unhired men and\nwomen of the town, there will still remain many whom you can neither\nemploy in the Household Salvage Brigade, nor for whom employers,\nbe they registered never so carefully, can be found.  What, then, must\nbe done with them?  The answer to that question seems to me obvious.\nThey must go upon the land!\n\nThe land is the source of all food; only by the application of labour\ncan the land be made fully productive.  There is any amount of waste\nland in the world, not far away in distant Continents, next door to the\nNorth Pole, but here at our very doors.  Have you ever calculated,\nfor instance, the square miles of unused land which fringe the sides of\nall our railroads?  No doubt some embankments are of material that\nwould baffle the cultivating skill at a Chinese or the careful\nhusbandry of a Swiss mountaineer; but these are exceptions.  When other\npeople talk of reclaiming Salisbury Plain, or of cultivating the bare\nmoorlands of the bleak North, I think of the hundreds of square miles\nof land that lie in long ribbons on the side of each of our railways,\nupon which, without any cost for cartage, innumerable tons of City\nmanure could be shot down, and the crops of which could be carried at\nonce to the nearest market without any but the initial cost of heaping\ninto convenient trucks.  These railway embankments constitute a vast\nestate, capable of growing fruit enough to supply all the jam that\nCrosse and Blackwell ever boiled.  In almost every county in England\nare vacant farms, and, in still greater numbers, farms but a quarter\ncultivated, which only need the application of an industrious\npopulation working with due incentive to produce twice, thrice,\nand four times as much as they yield to-day.\n\nI am aware that there are few subjects upon which there are such fierce\ncontroversies as the possibilities of making a livelihood out of small\nholdings, but Irish cottiers do it, and in regions infinitely worse\nadapted for the purpose than our Essex corn lands, and possessing none\nof the advantages which civilization and co-operation place at the\ncommand of an intelligently directed body of husbandmen.  Talk about\nthe land not being worth cultivating!  Go to the Swiss Valleys and\nexamine for yourself the miserable patches of land, hewed out as it\nwere from the heart of the granite mountains, where the cottager grows\nhis crops and makes a livelihood.  No doubt he has his Alp, where his\ncows pasture in summer-time, and his other occupations which enable him\nto supplement the scanty yield of his farm garden among the crags;\nbut if it pays the Swiss mountaineer in the midst of the eternal snows,\nfar removed from any market, to cultivate such miserable soil in the\nbrief summer of the high Alps, it is impossible to believe that\nEnglishmen, working on English soil, close to our markets and enjoying\nall the advantages of co-operation, cannot earn their daily bread by\ntheir daily toil.  The soil of England is not unkindly, and although\nmuch is said against our climate, it is, as Mr. Russell Lowell\nobserves, after a lengthened experience of many countries and many\nclimes, \"the best climate in the whole world for the labouring man.\"\nThere are more days in the English year on which a man can work out of\ndoors with a spade with comparative comfort than in any other country\nunder heaven.  I do not say that men will make a fortune out of the\nland, nor do I pretend that we can, under the grey English skies,\nhope ever to vie with the productiveness of the Jersey farms; but I am\nprepared to maintain against all comers that it is possible for an\nindustrious man to grow his rations, provided he is given a spade with\nwhich to dig and land to dig in.  Especially will this be the case with\nintelligent direction and the advantages of co-operation.\n\nIs it not a reasonable supposition?  It always seems to me a strange\nthing that men should insist that you must first transport your\nlabourer thousands of miles to a desolate, bleak country in order to\nset him to work to extract a livelihood from the soil when hundreds of\nthousands of acres lie only half tilled at home or not tilled at all.\nIs it reasonable to think that you can only begin to make a living out\nof land when it lies several thousand miles from the nearest market,\nand thousands of miles from the place where the labourer has to buy his\ntools and procure all the necessaries of life which are not grown on\nthe spot?  If a man can make squatting pay on the prairies or in\nAustralia, where every quarter of grain which he produces has to be\ndragged by locomotives across the railways of the continent, and then\ncarried by steamers across the wide ocean, can he not equally make the\noperation at least sufficiently profitable to keep himself alive if you\nplant him with the same soil within an hour by rail of the greatest\nmarkets in the world?\n\nThe answer to this is, that you cannot give your man as much soil as he\nhas on the prairies or in the Canadian lumber lands.  This, no doubt,\nis true, but the squatter who settles in the Canadian backwoods does\nnot clear his land all at once.  He lives on a small portion of it,\nand goes on digging and delving little by little, until, after many\nyears of Herculean labour, he hews out for himself, and his children\nafter him, a freehold estate.  Freehold estates, I admit, are not to be\nhad for the picking up on English soil, but if a man will but work in\nEngland as they work in Canada or in Australia, he will find as little\ndifficulty in making a livelihood here as there.\n\nI may be wrong, but when I travel abroad and see the desperate struggle\non the part of peasant proprietors and the small holders in mountainous\ndistricts for an additional patch of soil, the idea of cultivating\nwhich would make our agricultural labourers turn up their noses in\nspeechless contempt, I cannot but think that our English soil could\ncarry a far greater number of souls to the acre than that which it\nbears at present.  Suppose, for instance, that Essex were suddenly to\nfind itself unmoored from its English anchorage and towed across the\nChannel to Normandy, or, not to imagine miracles, suppose that an\nArmada of Chinese were to make a descent on the Isle of Thanet, as did\nthe sea-kings, Hengist and Horsa, does anyone imagine for a moment that\nKent, fertile and cultivated as it is, would not be regarded as a very\nGarden of Eden out of the odd corners of which our yellow-skinned\ninvaders would contrive to extract sufficient to keep themselves in\nsturdy health?  I only suggest the possibility in order to bring out\nclearly the fact that the difficulty is not in the soil nor in the\nclimate, but in the lack of application of sufficient labour to\nsufficient land in the truly scientific way.\n\n\"What is the scientific way?\"  I shall be asked impatiently.  I am not\nan agriculturist; I do not dogmatize.  I have read much from many pens,\nand have noted the experiences of many colonies, and I have learned the\nlesson that it is in the school of practical labour that the most\nvaluable knowledge is to be obtained.  Nevertheless, the bulk of my\nproposals are based upon the experience of many who have devoted their\nlives to the study of the subject, and have been endorsed by\nspecialists whose experience gives them authority to speak with\nunquestioning confidence.\n\n\nSECTION 1.--THE FARM PROPER.\n\nMy present idea is to take an estate from five hundred to a thousand\nacres within reasonable distance of London.  It should be of such land\nas will be suitable for market gardening, while having some clay on it\nfor brick-making and for crops requiring a heavier soil.  If possible,\nit should not only be on a line of railway which is managed by\nintelligent and progressive directors, but it should have access to the\nsea and to the river.  It should be freehold land, and it should lie at\nsome considerable distance from any town or village.  The reason for\nthe latter desideratum is obvious.  We must be near London for the sake\nof our market and for the transmission of the commodities collected by\nour Household Salvage Brigade, but it must be some little distance from\nany town or village in order that the Colony may be planted clear out\nin the open away from the public house, that upas tree of civilisation.\nA sine qua non of the new Farm Colony is that no intoxicating liquors\nwill be permitted within its confines on any pretext whatever.\nThe doctors will have to prescribe some other stimulant than alcohol\nfor residents in this Colony.  But it will be little use excluding\nalcohol with a strong hand and by cast-iron regulations if the\nColonists have only to take a short walk in order to find themselves in\nthe midst of the \"Red Lions,\" and the \"Blue Dragons,\" and the\n\"George the Fourths,\" which abound in every country town.\n\nHaving obtained the land I should proceed to prepare it for the\nColonists.  This is an operation which is essentially the same in any\ncountry.  You need water supply, provisions and shelter.  All this\nwould be done at first in the simplest possible style.  Our pioneer\nbrigade, carefully selected from the competent Out-of-Works in the City\nColony, would be sent down to layout the estate and prepare it for\nthose who would come after.  And here let me say that it is a great\ndelusion to imagine that in the riffraff and waste of the labour market\nthere are no workmen to be had except those that are worthless.\nWorthless under the present conditions, exposed to constant temptations\nto intemperance no doubt they are, but some of the brightest men in\nLondon, with some of the smartest pairs of hands, and the cleverest\nbrains, are at the present moment weltering helplessly in the sludge\nfrom which we propose to rescue them.\n\nI am not speaking without book in this matter.  Some of my best\nOfficers to-day have been even such as they.  There is an infinite\npotentiality of capacity lying latent in our Provincial Tap-rooms and\nthe City Gin Palaces if you can but get them soundly saved, and even\nshort of that, if you can place them in conditions where they would no\nlonger be liable to be sucked back into their old disastrous habits,\nyou may do great things with them.\n\nI can well imagine the incredulous laughter which will greet my proposal.\n\"What,\" it will be said, \"do you think that you can create agricultural\npioneers out of the scum of Cockneydom?\"  Let us look for a moment at\nthe ingredients which make up what you call \"the scum of Cockneydom.\"\nAfter careful examination and close cross-questioning of the\nOut-of-Works, whom we have already registered at our Labour Bureau,\nwe find that at least sixty per cent. are country folk, men, women,\nboys, and girls, who have left their homes in the counties to come up\nto town in the hope of bettering themselves.  They are in no sense of\nthe word Cockneys, and they represent not the dregs of the country but\nrather its brighter and more adventurous spirits who have boldly tried\nto make their way in new and uncongenial spheres and have terribly come\nto grief.  Of thirty cases, selected haphazard, in the various Shelters\nduring the week ending July 5th, 1890, twenty-two were country-born,\nsixteen were men who had come up a long time ago, but did not ever seem\nto have settled to regular employ, and four were old military men.\nOf sixty cases examined into at the Bureau and Shelters during the\nfortnight ending August 2nd, forty-two were country people; twenty-six\nmen who had been in London for various periods; ranging from six months\nto four years; nine were lads under eighteen, who had run away from\nhome and come up to town; while four were ex-military.  Of eighty-five\ncases of dossers who were spoken to at night when they slept in the\nstreets, sixty-three were country people.  A very small proportion of\nthe genuine homeless Out-of-Works are Londoners bred and born.\n\nThere is another element in the matter, the existence of which will be\nnews to most people, and that is the large proportion of ex-military\nmen who are among the helpless, hopeless destitute.  Mr. Arnold White,\nafter spending many months in the streets of London interrogating more\nthan four thousand men whom he found in the course of one bleak winter\nsleeping out of doors like animals returns it as his conviction that at\nleast 20 per cent. are Army Reserve men.  Twenty per cent!  That is to\nsay one man in every five with whom we shall have to deal has served\nHer Majesty the Queen under the colours.  This is the resource to which\nthese poor fellows come after they have given the prime of their lives\nto the service of their country.  Although this may be largely brought\nabout by their own thriftless and evil conduct, it is a scandal and\ndisgrace which may well make the cheek of the patriot tingle.\nStill, I see in it a great resource.  A man who has been in the Queen's\nArmy is a man who has learnt to obey.  He is further a man who has been\ntaught in the roughest of rough schools to be handy and smart, to make\nthe best of the roughest fare, and not to consider himself a martyr if\nhe is sent on a forlorn hope.  I often say if we could only get\nChristians to have one-half of the practical devotion and sense of duty\nthat animates even the commonest Tommy Atkins what a change would be\nbrought about in the world!\n\nLook at poor Tommy!  A country lad who gets himself into some scrape,\nruns away from home, finds himself sinking lower and lower, with no\nhope of employment, no friends to advise; him, and no one to give him a\nhelping hand.  In sheer despair he takes the Queen's shilling and\nenters the ranks.  He is handed over to an inexorable drill sergeant,\nhe is compelled to room in barracks where privacy is unknown, to mix\nwith men, many of them vicious, few of them companions whom he would of\nhis own choice select.  He gets his rations, and although he is told he\nwill get a shilling a day, there are so many stoppages that he often\ndoes not finger a shilling a week.  He is drilled and worked and\nordered hither and thither as if he were a machine, all of which he\ntakes cheerfully, without even considering that there is any hardship\nin his lot, plodding on in a dull, stolid kind of way for his Queen and\nhis country, doing his best, also, poor chap, to be proud of his red\nuniform, and to cultivate his self-respect by reflecting that he is one\nof the defenders of his native land, one of the heroes upon whose\ncourage and endurance depends the safety of the British realm.\n\nSome fine day at the other end of the world some prancing pro-consul\nfinds it necessary to smash one of the man-slaying machines that loom\nominous on his borders, or some savage potentate makes an incursion\ninto territory of a British colony, or some fierce outburst of\nMahommedan fanaticism raises up a Mahdi in mid-Africa.  In a moment\nTommy Atkins is marched off to the troop-ship, and swept across the\nseas, heart-sick and sea-sick, and miserable exceedingly, to tight the\nQueen's enemies in foreign parts.  When he arrives there he is bundled\nashore, brigaded with other troops, marched to the front through the\nblistering glare of a tropical sun over poisonous marshes in which his\ncomrades sicken and die, until at last he is drawn up in square to\nreceive the charge of tens of thousands of ferocious savages.\nFar away from all who love him or care for him, foot-sore and travel\nweary, having eaten perhaps but a piece of dry bread in the last\ntwenty-four hours, he must stand up and kill or be killed.  Often he\nfalls beneath the thrust of an assegai or the slashing broadsword of\nthe charging enemy.  Then, after the fight is over his comrades turn up\nthe sod where he lies, bundle his poor bones into the shallow pit,\nand leave him without even a cross to mark his solitary grave.\nPerhaps he is fortunate and escapes.  Yet Tommy goes uncomplainingly\nthrough all these hardships and privations, does not think himself\na martyr, takes no fine airs about what he has done and suffered,\nand shrinks uncomplainingly into our Shelters and our Factories, only\nasking as a benediction from heaven that someone will give him an\nhonest job of work to do.  That is the fate of Tommy Atkins.  If in our\nchurches and chapels as much as one single individual were to bear and\ndare, for the benefit of his kind and the salvation of men, what a\nhundred thousand Tommy Atkins' bear uncomplainingly, taking it all as\nif it were in the day's work, for their rations and their shilling a\nday (with stoppages), think you we should not transform the whole face\nof the world?  Yea, verily.  We find but very little of such devotion;\nno, not in Israel.\n\nI look forward to making great use of these Army Reserve men.\nThere are engineers amongst them; there are artillery men and infantry;\nthere are cavalry men, who know what a horse needs to keep him in good\nhealth, and men of the transport department, for whom I shall find work\nenough to do in the transference of the multitudinous waste of London\nfrom our town Depots to the outlying Farm.  This, however, is a\ndigression, by the way.\n\nAfter having got the Farm into some kind of ship-shape, we should\nselect from the City Colonies all those who were likely to be\nsuccessful as our first settlers.  These would consist of men who had\nbeen working so many weeks or days in the Labour Factory, or had been\nunder observation for a reasonable time at the Shelters or in the\nSlums, and who had given evidence of their willingness to work, their\namenity to discipline, and their ambition to improve themselves.\nOn arrival at the Farm they would be installed in a barracks, and at\nonce told off to work.  In winter time there would be draining,\nand road-making, and fencing, and many other forms of industry which\ncould go on when the days are short and the nights are long.\nIn Spring, Summertime and Autumn, some would be employed on the land,\nchiefly in spade husbandry, upon what is called the system of\n\"intensive\" agriculture, such as prevails in the suburbs of Paris,\nwhere the market gardeners literally create the soil, and which yields\nmuch greater results than when you merely scratch the surface with a\nplough.\n\nOur Farm, I hope, would be as productive as a great market garden.\nThere would be a Superintendent on the Colony, who would be a practical\ngardener, familiar with the best methods of small agriculture,\nand everything that science and experience shows to be needful for the\nprofitable treatment of the land.  Then there would be various other\nforms of industry continually in progress, so that employment could be\nfurnished, adapted to the capacity and skill of every Colonist.\nWhere farm buildings are wanted, the Colonists must erect them\nthemselves.  If they want glass houses, they must put them up.\nEverything on the Estate must be the production of the Colonists.\nTake, for instance, the building of cottages.  After the first\ndetachment has settled down into its quarters and brought the fields\nsomewhat into cultivation, there will arise a demand for houses.\nThese houses must be built, and the bricks made; by the Colonists\nthemselves.  All the carpentering and the joinery will be done on the\npremises, and by this means a sustained demand for work will be\ncreated.  Then there would be furniture, clothing, and a great many\nother wants, the supply of the whole of which would create labour which\nthe Colonists must perform.\n\nFor a long time to come the Salvation Army will be able to consume all\nthe vegetables and crops which the Colonies will produce.  That is one\nadvantage of being connected with so great and growing a concern;\nthe right hand will help the left, and we shall be able to do many\nthings which those who devote themselves exclusively to colonisation\nwould find it impossible to accomplish.  We have seen the large\nquantities of provisions which are required to supply the Food Depots\nin their present dimensions, and with the coming extensions the\nconsumption will be enormously augmented.  On this Farm I propose to\ncarry on every description of \"little agriculture.\"\n\nI have not yet referred to the female side of our operations,\nbut have reserved them for another chapter.  It is necessary, however,\nto bring them in here in order to explain that employment will be\ncreated for women as well as men.  Fruit farming affords a great\nopening for female labour, and it will indeed be a change as from\nTophet to the Garden of Eden when the poor lost girls on the\nstreets of London exchange the pavements of Piccadilly for the\nstrawberry Beds of Essex or Kent.\n\nNot only will vegetables and fruit of every description be raised,\nbut I think that a great deal might be done in the smaller adjuncts of\nthe Farm.\n\nIt is quite certain that amongst the mass of people with whom we have\nto deal there will be a residual remnant of persons to some extent\nmentally infirm or physically incapacitated from engaging in the harder\ntoils.  For these people it is necessary to find work, and I think\nthere would be a good field for their benumbed energies in looking\nafter rabbits, feeding poultry, minding bees, and, in short doing all\nthose little odd jobs about a place which must be attended to,\nbut which will not repay the labour of able-bodied men.\n\nOne advantage of the cosmopolitan nature of the Army is that we have\nOfficers in almost every country in the world.  When this Scheme is\nwell on the way every Salvation Officer in every I and will have it\nimposed upon him as one of the duties of his calling to keep his eyes\nopen for every useful notion and every conceivable contrivance for\nincreasing the yield of the soil and utilising the employment of waste\nlabour.  By this means I hope that there will not be an idea in the\nworld which will not be made available for our Scheme.  If an Officer\nin Sweden can give us practical hints as to how they manage food\nkitchens for the people, or an Officer in the South of France can\nexplain how the peasants are able to rear eggs and poultry not only for\ntheir own use, but so as to be able to export them by the million to\nEngland; if a Sergeant in Belgium understands how it is that the rabbit\nfarmers there can feed and fatten and supply our market with millions\nof rabbits we shall have him over, tap his brains, and set him to work\nto benefit our people.\n\nBy the establishment of this Farm Colony we should create a great\nschool of technical agricultural education.  It would be a Working\nMen's Agricultural University, training people for the life which they\nwould have to lead in the new countries they will go forth to colonise\nand possess.\n\nEvery man who goes to our Farm Colony does so, not to acquire his\nfortune, but to obtain a knowledge of an occupation and that mastery of\nhis tools which will enable him to play his part in the battle of life.\nHe will be provided with a cheap uniform, which we shall find no\ndifficulty in rigging up from the old clothes of London, and it will go\nhardly with us, and we shall have worse luck than the ordinary market\ngardener, if we do not succeed in making sufficient profit to pay all\nthe expenses of the concern, and leave something over for the\nmaintenance of the hopelessly incompetent, and those who, to put it\nroughly, are not worth their keep.\n\nEvery person in the Farm Colony will be taught the elementary lesson of\nobedience, and will be instructed in the needful arts of husbandry,\nor some other method of earning his bread.  The Agricultural Section\nwill learn the lesson of the seasons and of the best kind of seeds and\nplants.  Those belonging to this Section will learn how to hedge and\nditch, how to make roads and build bridges, and generally to subdue the\nearth and make it yield to him the riches which it never withholds from\nthe industrious and skilful workman.  But the Farm Colony, any more\nthan the City Colony, although an abiding institution, will not provide\npermanently for those with whom we have to deal.  It is a Training\nSchool for Emigrants, a place where those indispensably practical\nlessons are given which will enable the Colonists to know their way\nabout and to feel themselves at home wherever there is land to till,\nstock to rear, and harvests to reap.  We shall rely greatly for the\npeace and prosperity of the Colony upon the sense of brotherhood which\nwill be universal in it from the highest to the lowest.  While there\nwill be no systematic wage-paying there will be some sort of rewards\nand remuneration for honest industry, which will be stored up, for his\nbenefit, as afterwards explained.  They will in the main work each for\nall, and, therefore, the needs of all will be supplied, and any\noverplus will go to make the bridge over which any poor fellow may\nescape from the horrible pit and the miry clay from which they\nthemselves have been rescued.\n\nThe dulness and deadness of country life, especially in the Colonies,\nleads many men to prefer a life of hardship and privation in a City\nslum.  But in our Colony they would be near to each other, and would\nenjoy the advantages of country life and the association and\ncompanionship of life in town.\n\n\nSECTION 2.--THE INDUSTRIAL VILLAGE.\n\nIn describing the operations of the Household Salvage Brigade I have\nreferred to the enormous quantities of good sound food which would be\ncollected from door to door every day of the year.  Much of this food\nwould be suitable for human consumption, its waste being next door to\nsinful.  Imagine, for instance, the quantities of soup which might be\nmade from boiling the good fresh meaty bones of the great City!\nThink of the dainty dishes which a French cook would be able to serve\nup from the scraps and odds and ends of a single West End kitchen.\nGood cookery is not an extravagance but an economy, and many a tasty\ndish is made by our Continental friends out of materials which would be\ndiscarded indignantly by the poorest tramp in Whitechapel.\n\nBut after all that is done there will remain a mass of food which\ncannot be eaten by man, but can be converted into food for him by the\nsimple process of passing it through another digestive apparatus.\nThe old bread of London, the soiled, stale crusts can be used in\nfoddering the horses which are employed in collecting the waste.\nIt will help to feed the rabbits, whose hutches will be close by every\ncottage on the estate, and the hens of the Colony will flourish on the\ncrumbs which fall from the table of Dives.  But after the horses and\nthe rabbits and poultry have been served, there will remain a residuum\nof eatable matter, which can only be profitably disposed of to the\nvoracious and necessary pig.  I foresee the rise of a piggery in\nconnection with the new Social Scheme, which will dwarf into\ninsignificance all that exist in Great Britain and Ireland.  We have\nthe advantage of the experience of the whole world as to the choice of\nbreeds, the construction of sties, and the rearing of stock.  We shall\nhave the major part of our food practically for the cost of collection,\nand be able to adopt all the latest methods of Chicago for the killing,\ncuring, and disposing of our pork, ham, and bacon.\n\nThere are few animals more useful than the pig.  He will eat anything,\nlive anywhere, and almost every particle of him, from the tip of his\nnose to the end of his tail, is capable of being converted into a\nsaleable commodity.  Your pig also is a great producer of manure,\nand agriculture is after all largely a matter of manure.  Treat the\nland well and it will treat you well.  With our piggery in connection\nwith our Farm Colony there would be no lack of manure.\n\nWith the piggery there would grow up a great bacon factory for curing,\nand that again would make more work.  Then as for sausages they would\nbe produced literally by the mile, and all made of the best meat\ninstead of being manufactured out of the very objectionable ingredients\ntoo often stowed away in that poor man's favourite ration.\n\nFood, however, is only one of the materials which will be collected\nby the Household Salvage Brigade.  The barges which float down the\nriver with the tide, laden to the brim with the cast-off waste of\nhalf a million homes, will bring down an enormous quantity of material\nwhich cannot be eaten even by pigs.  There will be, for instance, the\nold bones.  At present it pays speculators to go to the prairies of\nAmerica and gather up the bleached bones of the dead buffaloes,\nin order to make manure.  It pays manufacturers to bring bones from the\nend of the earth in order to grind them up for use on our fields.\nBut the waste bones of London; who collects them?  I see, as in a\nvision, barge loads upon barge loads of bones floating down the Thames\nto the great Bone Factory.  Some of the best will yield material for\nknife handles and buttons, and the numberless articles which will\nafford ample opportunity in the long winter evenings for the\nacquisition of skill on the part of our Colonist carvers, while the\nrest will go straight to the Manure Mill.  There will be a constant\ndemand for manure on the part of our ever-increasing nests of new\nColonies and our Co-operative Farm, every man in which will be educated\nin the great doctrine that there is no good agriculture without liberal\nmanuring.  And here will be an unfailing source of supply.\n\nAmong the material which comes down will be an immense quantity of\ngreasy matter, bits of fat, suet and lard, tallow, strong butter,\nand all the rancid fat of a great city.  For all that we shall have to\nfind use.  The best of it will make waggon grease, the rest, after due\nboiling and straining, will form the nucleus of the raw material which\nwill make our Social Soap a household word throughout the kingdom.\nAfter the Manure Works, the Soap Factory will be the natural adjunct of\nour operations.\n\nThe fourth great output of the daily waste of London will be waste\npaper and rags, which, after being chemically treated, and duly\nmanipulated by machinery, will be re-issued to the world in the shape\nof paper.  The Salvation Army consumes no less than thirty tons of\npaper every week.  Here, therefore, would be one customer for as much\npaper as the new mill would be able to turn out at the onset; paper on\nwhich we could print the glad tidings of great joy, and tell the poor\nof all nations the news of salvation for earth and Heaven, full,\npresent, and free to all the children of men.\n\nThen comes the tin.  It will go hard with us if we cannot find some way\nof utilizing these tins, whether we make them into flowerpots with a\ncoat of enamel, or convert them into ornaments, or cut them up for toys\nor some other purpose.  My officers have been instructed to make an\nexhaustive report on the way the refuse collectors of Paris deal with\nthe sardine tins.  The industry of making tin toys will be one which\ncan be practised better in the Farm Colony than in the City.\nIf necessary, we shall bring an accomplished workman from France,\nwho will teach our people the way of dealing with the tin.\n\nIn connection with all this it is obvious there would be a constant\ndemand for packing cases, for twine, rope, and for boxes of all kinds;\nfor carts and cars; and, in short, we should before long have a\ncomplete community practising almost all the trades that are to be\nfound in London, except the keeping of grog shops, the whole being\nworked upon co-operative principles, but co-operation not for the\nbenefit of the individual co-operator, but for the benefit of the\nsunken mass that lies behind it.\n\nRULES AND REGULATIONS FOR THE GOVERNMENT OF COLONISTS.\n\nA document containing the Orders and Regulations for the Government of\nthe Colony must be approved and signed by every Colonist before\nadmission.  Amongst other things there will be the following: --\n\n1.  All Officers must be treated respectfully and implicitly obeyed.\n\n2.  The use of intoxicants strictly prohibited, none being allowed\n    within its borders.  Any Colonist guilty of violating this Order to\n    be expelled, and that on the first offence.\n\n3.  Expulsion for drunkenness, dishonesty, or falsehood will follow the\n    third offence.\n\n4.  Profane language strictly forbidden.\n\n5.  No cruelty to be practised on man, woman, child, or animal.\n\n6.  Serious offenders against the virtue of women, or of children of\n    either sex, to incur immediate expulsion.\n\n7.  After a certain period of probation, and a considerable amount of\n    patience, all who will not work to be expelled.\n\n8.  The decision of the Governor of the Colony, whether in the City,\n    or the Farm, or Over the Sea, to be binding in all cases.\n\n9.  With respect to penalties, the following rules will be acted upon.\n    The chief reliance for the maintenance of order, as has been\n    observed before, will be placed upon the spirit of love which will\n    prevail throughout the community.  But as it cannot be expected to\n    be universally successful, certain penalties will have to be\n    provided: --\n\n (a) First offences, except in flagrant cases, will be recorded.\n (b) The second offence will be published.\n (c) The third offence will incur expulsion or being handed over to the\n     authorities.\n\n Other regulations will be necessary as the Scheme develops.\n\nThere will be no attempt to enforce upon the Colonists the rules and\nregulations to which Salvation Soldiers are subjected.  Those who are\nsoundly saved and who of their own free will desire to become\nSalvationists will, of course, be subjected to the rules of the\nService.  But Colonists who are willing to work and obey the orders of\nthe Commanding Officer will only be subject to the foregoing and\nsimilar regulations; in all other things they will be left free.\n\nFor instance, there will be no objection to field recreations or any\noutdoor exercises which conduce to the maintenance of health and\nspirits.  A reading room and a library will be provided, together with\na hall, in which they can amuse themselves in the long winter nights\nand in unfavourable weather.  These things are not for the Salvation\nArmy Soldiers, who have other work in the world, but for those who are\nnot in the Army these recreations will be permissible.  Gambling and\nanything of an immoral tendency will be repressed like stealing.\n\nThere will probably be an Annual Exhibition of fruit and flowers,\nat which all the Colonists who have a plot of garden of their own will\ntake part.  They will exhibit their fruit and vegetables as well as\ntheir rabbits, their poultry and all the other live-stock of the farm.\nEvery effort will be made to establish village industries, and I am not\nwithout hope but that we may be able to restore some of the domestic\noccupations which steam has compelled us to confine to the great\nfactories.  The more the Colony can be made self-supporting the better.\nAnd although the hand loom can never compete with Manchester mills,\nstill an occupation which kept the hands of the goodwife busy in the\nlong winter nights, is not to be despised as an element in the\neconomics of the Settlement.  While Manchester and Leeds may be able to\nmanufacture common goods much more cheaply than they can be spun at\nhome, even these emporiums, with all their grand improvements in\nmachinery, would be sorely pressed to-day to compete with the hand-loom\nin many superior classes of work.  For instance, we all know the\nhand-sewn boot still holds its own against the most perfect article\nthat machinery can turn out.\n\nThere would be, in the centre of the Colony, a Public Elementary School\nat which the children would receive training, and side by side with\nthat an Agricultural Industrial School, as elsewhere described.\n\nThe religious welfare of the Colony would be looked after by the\nSalvation Army, but there will be no compulsion to take part in\nits services.  The Sabbath will be strictly observed; no unnecessary\nwork will be done in the Colony on that day, but beyond interdicted\nlabour, the Colonists will be allowed to spend Sunday as they please.\nIt will be the fault of the Salvation Army if they do not find our\nSunday Services sufficiently attractive to command their attendance.\n\n\nSECTION 3.--AGRICULTURAL VILLAGES.\n\nThis brings me to the next feature of the Scheme, the creation of\nagricultural settlements in the neighbourhood of the Farm, around the\noriginal Estate.  I hope to obtain land for the purpose of allotments\nwhich can be taken up to the extent of so many acres by the more\ncompetent Colonists who wish to remain at home instead of going abroad.\nThere will be allotments from three to five acres with a cottage,\na cow, and the necessary tools and seed for making the allotment\nself-supporting.  A weekly charge will be imposed for the he repayment\nof the cost of the fixing and stock.  The tenant will of course,\nbe entitled to his tenant-right, but adequate precautions will be taken\nagainst underletting and other forms by which sweating makes its way\ninto agricultural communities.  On entering into possession, the tenant\nwill become responsible for his own and his family's maintenance.\nI shall stand no longer in the relation of father of the household to\nhim, as I do to the other members of the Colony; his obligations will\ncease to me, except in the payment of his rent.\n\nThe creation of a large number of Allotment Farms would make the\nestablishment of a creamery necessary, where the milk could be brought\nin every day and converted into butter by the most modern methods,\nwith the least possible delay.  Dairying, which has in some places on\nthe Continent almost developed to a fine art, is in a very backward\ncondition in this country.  But by co-operation among the cottiers and\nan intelligent Headquarter staff much could be done which at present\nappears impossible.\n\nThe tenant will be allowed permanent tenancy on payment of an annual\nrent or land tax, subject, of course, to such necessary regulations\nwhich may be made for the prevention of intemperance and immorality and\nthe preservation of the fundamental features of the Colony.  In this\nway our Farm Colony will throw off small Colonies all round it until\nthe original site is but the centre of a whole series of small farms,\nwhere those whom we have rescued and trained will live, if not under\ntheir own vine and fig tree, at least in the midst of their own little\nfruit farm, and surrounded by their small flocks and herds.\nThe cottages will be so many detached residences, each standing in its\nown ground, not so far away from its neighbours as to deprive its\noccupants of the benefit of human intercourse.\n\n\nSECTION 4.--CO-OPERATIVE FARM.\n\nSide by side with the Farm Colony proper I should propose to renew the\nexperiment of Mr. E. T. Craig, which he found work so successfully at\nRalahine.  When any members of the original Colony had pulled\nthemselves sufficiently together to desire to begin again on their own\naccount, I should group some of them as partners in a Co-operative\nFarm, and see whether or no the success achieved in County Clare could\nnot be repeated in Essex or in Kent.  I cannot have more unpromising\nmaterial to deal with than the wild Irishmen on Colonel Vandeleur's\nestate, and I would certainly take care to be safeguarded against any\nsuch mishap as destroyed the early promise of Ralahine.\n\nI shall look upon this as one of the most important experiments of the\nentire series, and if, as I anticipate, it can be worked successfully,\nthat is, if the results of Ralahine can be secured on a larger scale,\nI shall consider that the problem of the employment of the people,\nand the use of the land, and the food supply for the globe,\nis unquestionably solved, were its inhabitants many times greater in\nnumber than they are.\n\nWithout saying more, some idea will be obtained as to what I propose\nfrom the story of Ralahine related briefly at the close of this volume.\n\n\nCHAPTER 4.  NEW BRITAIN--THE COLONY OVER-SEA.\n\nWe now come to the third and final stage of the regenerative process.\nThe Colony Over-Sea.  To mention Over-Sea is sufficient with some\npeople to damn the Scheme.  A prejudice against emigration has been\ndiligently fostered in certain quarters by those who have openly\nadmitted that they did not wish to deplete the ranks of the Army of\nDiscontent at home, for the more discontented people you have here the\nmore trouble you can give the Government, and the more power you have\nto bring about the general overturn, which is the only thing in which\nthey see any hope for the future.  Some again object to emigration on\nthe ground that it is transportation.  I confess that I have great\nsympathy with those who object to emigration as carried on hitherto,\nand if it be a consolation to any of my critics I may say at once that\nso far from compulsorily expatriating any Englishman I shall refuse to\nhave any part or lot in emigrating any man or woman who does not\nvoluntarily wish to be sent out.\n\nA journey over sea is a very different thing now to what it was when\na voyage to Australia consumed more than six months, when emigrants\nwere crowded by hundreds into sailing ships, and scenes of abominable\nsin and brutality were the normal incidents of the passage.  The world\nhas grown much smaller since the electric telegraph was discovered and\nside by side with the shrinkage of this planet under the influence of\nsteam and electricity there has come a sense of brotherhood and a\nconsciousness of community of interest and of nationality on the part\nof the English-speaking people throughout the world.  To change from\nDevon to Australia is not such a change in many respects as merely to\ncross over from Devon to Normandy.  In Australia the Emigrant finds him\nself among men and women of the same habits, the same language, and in\nfact the same people, excepting that they live under the southern cross\ninstead of in the northern latitudes.  The reduction of the postage\nbetween England and the Colonies, a reduction which I hope will soon be\nfollowed by the establishment of the Universal Penny Post between the\nEnglish speaking lands, will further tend to lessen the sense of\ndistance.\n\nThe constant travelling of the Colonists backwards and forwards to\nEngland makes it absurd to speak of the Colonies as if they were a\nforeign land.  They are simply pieces of Britain distributed about the\nworld, enabling the Britisher to have access to the richest parts of\nthe earth.\n\nAnother objection which will be taken to this Scheme is that colonists\nalready over sea will see with infinite alarm the prospect of the\ntransfer of our waste labour to their country.  It is easy to\nunderstand how this misconception will arise, but there is not much\ndanger of opposition on this score.  The working-men who rule the roost\nat Melbourne object to the introduction of fresh workmen into their\nlabour market, for the same reason that the new Dockers' Union objects\nto the appearance of new hands at the dock gates, that is for fear the\nnewcomers will enter into unfriendly competition with them.  But no\nColony, not even the Protectionist and Trade Unionists who govern\nVictoria, could rationally object to the introduction of trained\nColonists planted out upon the land.  They would see that these men\nwould become a source of wealth, simply because they would at once\nbecome producers as well as consumers, and instead of cutting down\nwages they would tend directly to improve trade and so increase the\nemployment of the workmen now in the Colony.  Emigration as hitherto\nconducted has been carried out on directly opposite principles to\nthese.  Men and women have simply been shot down into countries without\nany regard to their possession of ability to earn a livelihood,\nand have consequently become an incubus upon the energies of the\ncommunity, and a discredit, expense, and burden.  The result is that\nthey gravitate to the towns and compete with the colonial workmen,\nand thereby drive down wages.  We shall avoid that mistake.  We need\nnot wonder that Australians and other Colonists should object to their\ncountries being converted into a sort of dumping ground, on which to\ndeposit men and women totally unsuited for the new circumstances in\nwhich they find themselves.\n\nMoreover, looking at it from the aspect of the class itself, would such\nemigration be of any enduring value?  It is not merely more favourable\ncircumstances that are required by these crowds, but those habits of\nindustry, truthfulness, and self-restraint, which will enable them to\nprofit by better conditions if they could only come to possess them.\nAccording to the most reliable information there are already sadly too\nmany of the same classes we want to help in countries supposed to be\nthe paradise of the working-man.\n\nWhat could be done with a people whose first enquiry on reaching\na foreign land would be for a whisky shop, and who were utterly\nignorant of those forms of labour and habits of industry absolutely\nindispensable to the earning of a subsistence amid the hardships of an\nEmigrant's life?  Such would naturally shrink from the self-denial the\nnew circumstances inevitably called for, and rather than suffer the\ninconveniences connected with a settler's life, would probably sink\ndown into helpless despair, or settle in the slums of the first city\nthey came to.\n\nThese difficulties, in my estimation, bar the way to the emigration on\nany considerable scale of the \"submerged tenth,\" and yet I am strongly\nof opinion, with the majority of those who have thought and written on\npolitical economy, that emigration is the only remedy for this\nmighty evil.  Now, the Over-Sea Colony plan, I think, meets these\ndifficulties: --\n\n (1) In the preparation of the Colony for the people.\n (2) In the preparation of the people for the Colony.\n (3) In the arrangements that are rendered possible for the transport\n     of the people when prepared.\n\nIt is proposed to secure a large tract of land in some country suitable\nto our purpose.  We have thought of South Africa, to begin with.\nWe are in no way pledged to this part of the world, or to it alone.\nThere is nothing to prevent our establishing similar settlements in\nCanada, Australia, or some other land.  British Columbia has been\nstrongly urged upon our notice.  Indeed, it is certain if this Scheme\nproves the success we anticipate, the first Colony will be the\nforerunner of similar communities elsewhere.  Africa, however, presents\nto us great advantages for the moment.  There is any amount of land\nsuitable for our purpose which can be obtained, we think, without\ndifficulty.  The climate is healthy.  Labour is in great demand,\nso that if by any means work failed on the Colony, there would be\nabundant opportunities for securing good wages from the neighbouring\nCompanies.\n\n\nSECTION 1.--THE COLONY AND THE COLONISTS.\n\nBefore any decision is arrived at, however, information will be\nobtained as to the position and character of the land;\nthe accessibility of markets for commodities; communication with\nEurope, and other necessary particulars.\n\nThe next business would be to obtain on grant, or otherwise,\na sufficient tract of suitable country for the purpose of a Colony,\non conditions that would meet its present and future character.\n\nAfter obtaining a title to the country, the next business will be to\neffect a settlement in it.  This, I suppose, will be accomplished by\nsending a competent body of men under skilled supervision to fix on a\nsuitable location for the first settlement, erecting such buildings as\nwould be required, enclosing and breaking up the land, putting in first\ncrops, and so storing sufficient supplies of food for the future.\n\nThen a supply of Colonists would be sent out to join them, and from\ntime to time other detachments, as the Colony was prepared to receive\nthem.  Further locations could then be chosen, and more country broken\nup, and before a very long period has passed the Colony would be\ncapable of receiving and absorbing a continuous stream of emigration of\nconsiderable proportions.\n\nThe next work would be the establishment of a strong and efficient\ngovernment, prepared to carry out and enforce the same laws and\ndiscipline to which the Colonists had been accustomed in England,\ntogether with such alterations and additions as the new circumstances\nwould render necessary.\n\nThe Colonists would become responsible for all that concerned their own\nsupport; that is to say, they would buy and sell, engage in trade,\nhire servants, and transact all the ordinary business affairs of\nevery-day life.\n\nOur Headquarters in England would represent the Colony in this country\non their behalf, and with money supplied by them, when once fairly\nestablished, would buy for their agents what they were at the outset\nunable to produce themselves, such as machinery and the like,\nalso selling their produce to the best advantage.\n\nAll land, timber, minerals, and the like, would be rented to the\nColonists, all unearned increments, and improvements on the land,\nwould be held on behalf of the entire community, and utilised for its\ngeneral advantages, a certain percentage being set apart for the\nextension of its borders, and the continued transmission of Colonists\nfrom England in increasing numbers.\n\nArrangements would be made for the temporary accommodation of new\narrivals, Officers being maintained for the purpose of taking them\nin hand on landing and directing and controlling them generally.\nSo far as possible, they would be introduced to work without any waste\nof time, situations being ready for them to enter upon; and any way,\ntheir wants would be supplied till this was the case.\n\nThere would be friends who would welcome and care for them, not merely\non the principle of profit and loss, but on the ground of friendship\nand religion, many of whom the emigrants would probably have known\nbefore in the old country, together with all the social influences,\nrestraints, and religious enjoyments to which the Colonists have\nbeen accustomed.  After dealing with the preparation of the Colony\nfor the Colonists, we now come to the preparation of the\nCOLONISTS FOR THE COLONY OVER-SEA.\n\nThey would be prepared by an education in honesty, truth, and industry,\nwithout which we could not indulge in any hope of their succeeding.\nWhile men and women would be received into the City Colony without\ncharacter, none would be sent over the sea who had not been proved\nworthy of this trust.\n\nThey would be inspired with an ambition to do well for themselves\nand their fellow Colonists.\n\nThey would be instructed in all that concerned their future career.\n\nThey would be taught those industries in which they would be most\nprofitably employed.\n\nThey would be inured to the hardships they would have to endure.\n\nThey would be accustomed to the economies they would have to practise.\n\nThey would be made acquainted with the comrades with whom they would\nhave to live and labour.\n\nThey would be accustomed to the Government, Orders, and Regulations\nwhich they would have to obey.\n\nThey would be educated, so far as the opportunity served, in those\nhabits of patience, forbearance, and affection which would so largely\ntend to their own welfare, and to the successful carrying out of this\npart of our Scheme.\n\nTRANSPORT TO THE COLONY OVER-SEA.\n\nWe now come to the question of transport.  This certainly has an\nelement of difficulty in it, if the remedy is to be applied on a very\nlarge scale.  But this will appear of less importance if we consider: --\n\nThat the largeness of the number will reduce the individual cost.\nEmigrants can be conveyed to such a location in South Africa, as we\nhave in view, by ones and twos at #8 per head, including land journey;\nand, no doubt, were a large number carried, this figure would be\nreduced considerably.\n\nMany of the Colonists would have friends who would assist them with the\ncost of passage money and outfit.\n\nAll the unmarried will have earned something on the City and Farm\nColonies, which will go towards meeting their passage money.  In the\ncourse of time relatives, who are comfortably settled in the Colony,\nwill save money, and assist their kindred in getting out to them.\nWe have the examples before our eyes in Australia and the United States\nof how those countries have in this form absorbed from Europe millions\nof poor struggling people.\n\nAll Colonists and emigrants generally will bind themselves in a legal\ninstrument to repay all monies, expenses of passage, outfit,\nor otherwise, which would in turn be utilised in sending out further\ncontingents.\n\nOn the plan named, if prudently carried out, and generously assisted,\nthe transfer of the entire surplus population of this country is not\nonly possible, but would, we think, in process of time, be effected\nwith enormous advantage to the people themselves, to this country,\nand the country of their adoption.  The history of Australia and the\nUnited States evidences this.  It is quite true the first settlers in\nthe latter were people superior in every way for such an enterprise to\nthe bulk of those we propose to send out.  But it is equally true that\nlarge numbers of the most ignorant and vicious of our European\npopulations have been pouring into that country ever since without\naffecting its prosperity, and this Colony Over-Sea would have the\nimmense advantage at the outset which would come from a government and\ndiscipline carefully adapted to its peculiar circumstances, and rigidly\nenforced in every particular.\n\nI would guard against misconception in relation to this Colony Over-Sea\nby pointing out that all my proposals here are necessarily tentative\nand experimental.  There is no intention on my part to stick to any of\nthese suggestions if, on maturer consideration and consultation with\npractical men, they can be improved upon.  Mr. Arnold White, who has\nalready conducted two parties of Colonists to South Africa, is one of\nthe few men in this country who has had practical experience of the\nactual difficulties of colonisation.  I have, through a mutual friend,\nhad the advantage of comparing notes with him very fully, and I venture\nto believe that there is nothing in this Scheme that is not in harmony\nwith the result of his experience.  In a couple of months this book will\nbe read all over the world.  It will bring me a plentiful crop of\nsuggestions, and, I hope, offers of service from many valuable and\nexperienced Colonists in every country.  In the due order of things the\nColony Over-Sea is the last to be started.  Long before our first batch\nof Colonists is ready to cross the ocean I shall be in a position to\ncorrect and revise the proposals of this chapter by the best wisdom and\nmatured experience of the practical men of every Colony in the Empire.\n\n\nSECTION 2.--UNIVERSAL EMIGRATION.\n\nWe have in our remarks on the Over-Sea Colony referred to the general\nconcensus of opinion on the part of those who have studied the Social\nQuestion as to Emigration being the only remedy for the overcrowded\npopulation of this country, at the same time showing some of the\ndifficulties which lie in the way of the adoption of the remedy; the\ndislike of the people to so great a change as is involved in going from\none country to another; the cost of their transfer, and their general\nunfitness for an emigrant's life.  These difficulties, as I think we\nhave seen, are fully met by the Over-Sea Colony Scheme.  But, apart\nfrom those who, driven by their abject poverty, will avail themselves\nof our Scheme, there are multitudes of people all over the country who\nwould be likely to emigrate could they be assisted in so doing.\nThose we propose to help in the following manner: --\n\n 1. By opening a Bureau in London, and appointing Officers whose\n    business it will be to acquire every kind of information as to\n    suitable countries, their adaptation to, and the openings they\n    present for different trades and callings, the possibility of\n    obtaining land and employment, the rates of remuneration, and the\n    like.  These enquiries will include the cost of passage-money,\n    railway fares, outfit, together with every kind of information\n    required by an emigrant.\n\n 2. From this Bureau any one may obtain all necessary information.\n\n 3. Special terms will be arranged with steamships, railway companies,\n    and land agents, of which emigrants using the Bureau will have the\n    advantage.\n\n 4. Introductions will be supplied, as far as possible, to agents and\n    friends in the localities to which the emigrant may be proceeding.\n\n 5. Intending emigrants, desirous of saving money, can deposit it\n    through this Bureau in the Army Bank for that purpose.\n\n 6. It is expected that government contractors and other employers of\n    labour requiring Colonists of reliable character will apply to this\n    Bureau for such, offering favourable terms with respect to\n    passage-money, employment, and other advantages.\n\n 7. No emigrant will be sent out in response to any application from\n    abroad where the emigrant's expenses are defrayed, without\n    references as to character, industry, and fitness.\n\nThis Bureau, we think, will be especially useful to women and young\ngirls.  There must be a large number of such in this country living in\nsemi-starvation, anyway, with very poor prospects, who would be very\nwelcome abroad, the expense of whose transfer governments, and masters\nand mistresses alike would be very glad to defray, or assist in\ndefraying, if they could only be assured on both sides of the\nbeneficial character of the arrangements when made.\n\nSo widespread now are the operations of the Army, and so extensively\nwill this Bureau multiply its agencies that it will speedily be able to\nmake personal enquiries on both sides, that is in the interest alike of\nthe emigrant and the intended employer in any part of the world.\n\n\nSECTION 3.--THE SALVATION SHIP.\n\nWhen we have selected a party of emigrants whom we believe to be\nsufficiently prepared to settle on the land which has been got ready\nfor them in the Colony over Sea, it will be no dismal expatriation\nwhich will await them.  No one who has ever been on the West Coast of\nIreland when the emigrants were departing, and has heard the dismal\nwails which arise from those who are taking leave of each other for the\nlast time on earth, can fail to sympathise with the horror excited in\nmany minds by the very word emigration.  But when our party sets out,\nthere will be no violent wrenching of home ties.  In our ship we shall\nexport them all--father, mother, and children.  The individuals will\nbe grouped in families, and the families will, on the Farm Colony, have\nbeen for some months past more or less near neighbours, meeting each\nother in the field, in the workshops, and in the Religious Services.\nIt will resemble nothing so much as the unmooring of a little piece of\nEngland, and towing it across the sea to find a safe anchorage in a\nsunnier clime.  The ship which takes out emigrants will bring back the\nproduce of the farms, and constant travelling to and fro will lead more\nthan ever to the feeling that we and our ocean-sundered brethren are\nmembers of one family.\n\nNo one who has ever crossed the ocean can have failed to be impressed\nwith the mischief that comes to emigrants when they are on their way to\ntheir destination.  Many and many a girl has dated her downfall from\nthe temptations which beset her while journeying to a land where she\nhad hoped to find a happier future\n\n\"Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do,\" and he must\nhave his hands full on board an emigrant ship.  Look into the steerage\nat any time, and you will find boredom inexpressible on every face.\nThe men have nothing to do, and an incident of no more importance than\nthe appearance of a sail upon the distant horizon is an event which\nmakes the whole ship talk.  I do not see why this should be so.\nOf course, in the case of conveying passengers and freight, with the\nutmost possible expedition, for short distances, it would be idle to\nexpect that either time or energies could be spared for the employment\nor instruction of the passengers.  But the case is different when,\ninstead of going to America, the emigrant turns his face to South\nAfrica or remote Australia.  Then, even with the fastest steamers,\nthey must remain some weeks or months upon the high seas.  The result\nis that habits of idleness are contracted, bad acquaintances are\nformed, and very often the moral and religious work of a lifetime is\nundone.\n\nTo avoid these evil consequences, I think we should be compelled to\nhave a ship of our own as soon as possible.  A sailing vessel might be\nfound the best adapted for the work.  Leaving out the question of time,\nwhich would be of very secondary importance with us, the construction\nof a sailing ship would afford more space for the accommodation of\nemigrants and for industrial occupation, and would involve considerably\nless working expenses, besides costing very much less at the onset,\neven if we did not have one given to us, which I should think would be\nvery probable.\n\nAll the emigrants would be under the charge of Army Officers, and\ninstead of the voyage being demoralising, it would be made instructive\nand profitable.  From leaving London to landing at their destination,\nevery colonist would be under watchful oversight, could receive\ninstruction in those particulars where they were still needing it,\nand be subjected to influences that would be beneficial everyway.\n\nThen we have seen that one of the great difficulties in the direction\nof emigration is the cost of transport.  The expense of conveying a man\nfrom England to Australia, occupying as it does some seven or eight\nweeks, arises not so much from the expense connected with the working\nof the vessel which carries him, as the amount of provisions he\nconsumes during the passage.  Now, with this plan I think that the\nemigrants might be made to earn at least a portion of this outlay.\nThere is no reason why a man should not work on board ship any more\nthan on land.  Of course, nothing much could be done when the weather\nwas very rough; but the average number of days during which it would be\nimpossible for passengers to employ themselves profitably in the time\nspent between the Channel and Cape Town or Australia would be\ncomparatively few.\n\nWhen the ship was pitching or rolling, work would be difficult; but\neven then, when the Colonists get their sea-legs, and are free from the\nqualmishness which overtakes landsmen when first getting afloat,\nI cannot see why they should not engage in some form of industrial work\nfar more profitable than yawning and lounging about the deck, to say\nnothing of the fact that by so doing they would lighten the expense of\ntheir transit.  The sailors, firemen, engineers, and everybody else\nconnected with a vessel have to work, and there is no reason why our\nColonists should not work also.\n\nOf course, this method would require special arrangements in the\nfitting up of the vessel, which, if it were our own, it would not be\ndifficult to make.  At first sight it may seem difficult to find\nemployments on board ship which could be engaged in to advantage,\nand it might not be found possible to fix up every individual right\naway; but I think there would be very few of the class and character of\npeople we should take out, with the prior instructions they would have\nreceived, who would not have fitted themselves into some useful labour\nbefore the voyage ended.\n\nTo begin with, there would be a large amount of the ordinary ship's\nwork that the Colonists could perform, such as the preparation of food,\nserving it out, cleaning the decks and fittings of the ship generally,\ntogether with the loading and unloading of cargo.  All these operations\ncould be readily done under the direction of permanent hands.\nThen shoemaking, knitting, sewing, tailoring, and other kindred\noccupations could be engaged in.  I should think sewing-machines could\nbe worked, and, one way or another, any amount of garments could be\nmanufactured, which would find ready and profitable sale on landing,\neither among the Colonists themselves, or with the people round about.\n\nNot only would the ship thus be a perfect hive of industry, it would\nalso be a floating temple.  The Captain, Officers, and every member of\nthe crew would be Salvationists, and all, therefore, alike interested\nin the enterprise.  Moreover, the probabilities are that we should\nobtain the service of the ship's officers and crew in the most\ninexpensive manner, in harmony with the usages of the Army everywhere\nelse, men serving from love and not as a mere business.  The effect\nproduced by our ship cruising slowly southwards testifying to the\nreality of a Salvation for both worlds, calling at all convenient\nports, would constitute a new kind of mission work, and drawing out\neverywhere a large amount of warm practical sympathy.  At present the\ninfluence of those who go down to the sea in ships is not always in\nfavour of raising the morals and religion of the dwellers in the places\nwhere they come.  Here, however, would be one ship at least whose\nappearance foretold no disorder, gave rise to no debauchery, and from\nwhose capacious hull would stream forth an Army of men, who, instead of\nthronging the grog-shops and other haunts of licentious indulgence,\nwould occupy themselves with explaining and proclaiming the religion of\nthe Love of God and the Brotherhood of Man.\n\n\nCHAPTER 5.  MORE CRUSADES.\n\nI have now sketched out briefly the leading features of the threefold\nScheme by which I think a way can be opened out of \"Darkest England,\"\nby which its forlorn denizens can escape into the light and freedom of\na new life.  But it is not enough to make a clear broad road out of the\nheart of this dense and matted jungle forest; its inhabitants are in\nmany cases so degraded, so hopeless, so utterly desperate that we shall\nhave to do something more than make roads.  As we read in the parable,\nit is often not enough that the feast be prepared, and the guests be\nbidden; we must needs go into the highways and byways and compel them\nto come in.  So it is not enough to provide our City Colony and our\nFarm Colony, and then rest on our oars as if we had done our work.\nThat kind of thing will not save the Lost.\n\nIt is necessary to organise rescue expeditions to free the miserable\nwanderers from their captivity, and bring them out into the larger\nliberty and the fuller life.  Talk about Stanley and Emin!  There is not\none of us but has an Emin somewhere or other in the heart of Darkest\nEngland, whom he ought to sally forth to rescue.  Our Emins have the\nDevil for their Mahdi, and when we get to them we find that it is their\nfriends and neighbours who hold them back, and they are, oh,\nso irresolute!  It needs each of us to be as indomitable as Stanley,\nto burst through all obstacles, to force our way right to the centre of\nthings, and then to labour with the poor prisoner of vice and crime\nwith all our might.  But had not the Expeditionary Committee furnished\nthe financial means whereby a road was opened to the sea, both Stanley\nand Emin would probably have been in the heart of Darkest Africa to\nthis day.  This Scheme is our Stanley Expedition.  The analogy is very\nclose.  I propose to make a road clear down to the sea.  But alas our\npoor Emin!  Even when the road is open, he halts and lingers and doubts.\nFirst he will, and then he won't, and nothing less than the\nirresistible pressure of a friendly and stronger purpose will constrain\nhim to take the road which has been opened for him at such a cost of\nblood and treasure.  I now, therefore, proceed to sketch some of the\nmethods by which we shall attempt to save the lost and to rescue those\nwho are perishing in the midst of \"Darkest England.\"\n\n\nSECTION 1.--A SLUM CRUSADE.--OUR SLUM SISTERS.\n\nWhen Professor Huxley lived as a medical officer in the East of London\nhe acquired a knowledge of the actual condition of the life of many of\nits populace which led him long afterwards to declare that the\nsurroundings of the savages of New Guinea were much more conducive to\nthe leading of a decent human existence than those in which many of the\nEast-Enders live.  Alas, it is not only in London that such lairs exist\nin which the savages of civilisation lurk and breed.  All the great\ntowns in both the Old World and the New have their slums, in which\nhuddle together, in festering and verminous filth, men, women, and\nchildren.  They correspond to the lepers who thronged the lazar houses\nof the Middle Ages.\n\nAs in those days St. Francis of Assissi and the heroic band of saints\nwho gathered under his orders were wont to go and lodge with the lepers\nat the city gates, so the devoted souls who have enlisted in the\nSalvation Army take up their quarters in the heart of the worst slums.\nBut whereas the Friars were men, our Slum Brigade is composed of women.\nI have a hundred of them under my orders, young women for the most part,\nquartered all of them in outposts in the heart of the Devil's country.\nMost of them are the children of the poor who have known hardship from\ntheir youth up.  Some are ladies born and bred, who have not been\nafraid to exchange the comfort of a West End drawing-room for service\namong the vilest of the vile, and a residence in small and fetid rooms\nwhose walls were infested with vermin.  They live the life of the\nCrucified for the sake of the men and women for whom He lived and died.\nThey form one of the branches of the activity of the Army upon which I\ndwell with deepest sympathy.  They are at the front; they are at close\nquarters with the enemy.  To the dwellers in decent homes who occupy\ncushioned pews in fashionable churches there is something strange and\nquaint in the language they hear read from the Bible, language which\nhabitually refers to the Devil as an actual personality, and to the\nstruggle against sin and uncleanness as if it were a hand to hand death\nwrestle with the legions of Hell.  To our little sisters who dwell in\nan atmosphere heavy with curses, among people sodden with drink,\nin quarters where sin and uncleanness are universal, all these Biblical\nsayings are as real as the quotations of yesterday's price of Consols\nare to a City man.  They dwell in the midst of Hell, and in their daily\nwarfare with a hundred devils it seems incredible to them that anyone\ncan doubt the existence of either one or the other.\n\nThe Slum Sister is what her name implies, the Sister of the Slum.\nThey go forth in Apostolic fashion, two-and-two living in a couple of\nthe same kind of dens or rooms as are occupied by the people\nthemselves, differing only in the cleanliness and order, and the few\narticles of furniture which they contain.  Here they live all the year\nround, visiting the sick, looking after the children, showing the women\nhow to keep themselves and their homes decent, often discharging the\nsick mother's duties themselves; cultivating peace, advocating\ntemperance, counselling in temporalities, and ceaselessly preaching the\nreligion of Jesus Christ to the Outcasts of Society.\n\nI do not like to speak of their work.  Words fail me, and what I say\nis so unworthy the theme.   I prefer to quote two descriptions by\nJournalists who have seen these girls at work in the field.\nThe first is taken from a long article which Julia Hayes Percy\ncontributed to the New York World, describing a visit paid by her to\nthe slum quarters of the Salvation Army in Cherry Hill Alleys, in the\nWhitechapel of New York.\n\nTwenty-four hours in the slums--just a night and a day--\nyet into them were crowded such revelations of misery, depravity,\nand degradation as having once been gazed upon life can never be the\nsame afterwards.  Around and above his blighted neighbourhood flows\nthe tide of active, prosperous life.  Men and women travel past in\nstreet cars by the Elevated Railroad and across the bridge,\nand take no thought of its wretchedness, of the criminals bred there,\nand of the disease engendered by its foulness.  It is a fearful menace\nto the public health, both moral and physical, yet the multitude is as\nheedless of danger as the peasant who makes his house and plants green\nvineyards and olives above Vesuvian fires.  We are almost as careless\nand quite as unknowing as we pass the bridge in the late afternoon.\nOur immediate destination is the Salvation Army Barracks in Washington\nStreet, and we are going finally to the Salvation Officers--two young\nwomen--who have been dwelling and doing a noble mission work for\nmonths in one of the worst corners of New York's most wretched quarter.\nThese Officers are not living under the aegis of the Army, however.\nThe blue bordered flag is furled out of sight, the uniforms and poke\nbonnets are laid away, and there are no drums or tambourines.\n\"The banner over them is love\" of their fellow-creatures among whom\nthey dwell upon an equal plane of poverty, wearing no better clothes\nthan the rest, eating coarse and scanty food, and sleeping upon hard\ncots or upon the floor.  Their lives are consecrated to God's service\namong the poor of the earth.  One is a woman in the early prime of\nvigorous life, the other a girl of eighteen.  The elder of these\ndevoted women is awaiting us at the barracks to be our guide to\nSlumdom.  She is tall, slender, and clad in a coarse brown gown, mended\nwith patches.  A big gingham apron, artistically rent in several\nplaces, is tied about her waist.  She wears on old plaid woollen shawl\nand an ancient brown straw hat.  Her dress indicates extreme poverty,\nher face denotes perfect peace.  \"This is Em,\" says Mrs. Ballington\nBooth, and after this introduction we sally forth.\n\nMore and more wretched grows the district as we penetrate further Em\npauses before a dirty, broken, smoke-dimmed window, through which in a\ndingy room are seen a party of roughs, dark-looking men, drinking and\nsquabbling at a table.  \"They are our neighbours in the front.\"\nWe enter the hall-way and proceed to the rear room.  It is tiny,\nbut clean and warm.  A fire burns on the little cracked stove,\nwhich stands up bravely on three legs, with a brick eking out its\nsupport at the fourth corner.  A tin lamp stands on the table,\nhalf-a-dozen chairs, one of which has arms, but must have renounced its\nrockers long ago, and a packing box, upon which we deposit our shawls,\nconstitute the furniture.  Opening from this is a small dark bedroom,\nwith one cot made up and another folded against the wall.  Against a\ndoor, which must communicate with the front room, in which we saw the\ndisagreeable-looking men sitting, is a wooden table for the hand-basin.\nA small trunk and a barrel of clothing complete the inventory.\n\nEm's sister in the slum work gives us a sweet shy welcome.  She is a\nSwedish girl, with the fair complexion and crisp, bright hair peculiar\nto the Scandinavian blonde-type.  Her head reminds me of a Grenze that\nhangs in the Louvre, with its low knot of rippling hair, which fluffs\nout from her brow and frames a dear little face with soft childish\noutlines, a nez retrousse, a tiny mouth, like a crushed pink rose,\nand wistful blue eyes.  This girl has been a Salvationist for two\nyears.  During that time she has learned to speak, read, and write\nEnglish, while she has constantly laboured among the poor and wretched.\nThe house where we find ourselves was formerly notorious as one of the\nworst in the Cherry Hill district.  It has been the scene of some\nmemorable crimes, and among them that of the Chinaman who slew his\nIrish wife, after the manner of \"Jack the Ripper,\" on the staircase\nleading to the second floor.  A notable change has taken place in the\ntenement since Mattie and Em have lived there, and their gentle\ninfluence is making itself felt in the neighbouring houses as well.\nIt is nearly eight o'clock when we sally forth.  Each of us carries a\nhandful of printed slips bearing a text of Scripture and a few words of\nwarning to lead the better life.\n\n\"These furnish an excuse for entering places where otherwise we could\nnot go,\" explains Em.\n\nAfter arranging a rendezvous, we separate.  Mattie and Liz go off in\none direction, and Em and I in another.  From this our progress seems\nlike a descent into Tartarus.  Em pauses before a miserable-looking\nsaloon, pushes open the low, swinging door, and we go in.\nIt is a low-ceiled room, dingy with dirt, dim with the smoke,\nnauseating with the fumes of sour beer and vile liquor.  A sloppy bar\nextends along one side, and opposite is a long table, with\nindescribable viands littered over it, interspersed with empty glasses,\nbattered hats, and cigar stumps.  A motley crowd of men and women\njostle in the narrow space.  Em speaks to the soberest looking of the\nlot.  He listens to her words, others crowd about.  Many accept the\nslips we offer, and gradually as the throng separates to make way,\nwe gain the further end of the apartment.  Em's serious, sweet,\nsaint-like face I follow like a star.  All sense of fear slips from me,\nand a great pity fills my soul as I look upon the various types of\nwretchedness.\n\nAs the night wears on, the whole apartment seems to wake up.\nEvery house is alight; the narrow sidewalks and filthy streets are full\nof people.  Miserable little children, with sin-stamped faces,\ndart about like rats; little ones who ought to be in their cribs shift\nfor themselves, and sleep on cellar doors and areas, and under carts;\na few vendors are abroad with their wares, but the most of the traffic\ngoing on is of a different description.  Along Water Street are women\nconspicuously dressed in gaudy colours.  Their heavily-painted faces\nare bloated or pinched; they shiver in the raw night air.  Liz speaks\nto one, who replies that she would like to talk, but dare not,\nand as she says this an old hag comes to the door and cries:\n\"Get along; don't hinder her work!  During the evening a man to whom Em\nhas been talking has told her: --\"You ought to join the Salvation Army;\nthey are the only good women who, bother us down here.  I don't want to\nlead that sort of life; but I must go where it is light and warm and\nclean after working all day, and there isn't any place but this to come\nto\" exclaimed the man.  \"You will appreciate the plea to-morrow when\nyou see how the people live,\" Em says, as we turn our steps toward the\ntenement room, which seems like an oasis of peace and purity after the\nhowling desert we have been wandering in.  Em and Mattie brew some\noatmeal gruel, and being chilled and faint we enjoyed a cup of it.\nLiz and I share a cot in the outer room.  We are just going to sleep\nwhen agonised cries ring out through the night; then the tones of a\nwoman's voice pleading pitifully reach our ears.  We are unable to\ndistinguish her words, but the sound is heart-rending.  It comes from\none of those dreadful Water Street houses, and we all feel that a\ntragedy is taking place.  There is a sound of crashing blows and then\nsilence.\n\nIt is customary in the slums to leave the house door open perpetually,\nwhich is convenient for tramps, who creep into the hall-ways to sleep\nat night, thereby saving the few pence it costs to occupy a \"spot\" in\nthe cheap lodging houses.  Em and Mat keep the corridor without their\nroom beautifully clean, and so it has become an especial favourite\nstamping ground for these vagrants.  We were told this when Mattie\nlocked and bolted the door and then tied the keys and the door-handle\ntogether.  So we understand why there are shuffling steps along the\ncorridor, bumping against the panels of the door, and heavily breathing\nwithout during the long hours of the night.\n\nAll day Em and Mat have been toiling among their neighbours, and the\nnight before last they sat up with a dying woman.  They are worn out\nand sleep heavily.  Liz and I lie awake and wait for the coming of the\nmorning; we are too oppressed by what we have seen and heard to talk.\n\nIn the morning Liz and I peep over into the rear houses where we\nheard those dreadful shrieks in the night.  There is no sign of life,\nbut we discover enough filth to breed diphtheria and typhoid throughout\na large section.  In the area below our window there are several inches\nof stagnant water, in which is heaped a mass of old shoes, cabbage\nheads, garbage, rotten wood, bones, rags and refuse, and a few dead rats.\nWe understand now why Em keeps her room full of disinfectants.\nShe tells us that she dare not make any appeal to the sanitary\nauthorities, either on behalf of their own or any other dwelling,\nfor fear of antagonizing the people, who consider such officials as\ntheir natural enemies.\n\nThe first visit we pay is up a number of eccentric little flights of\nshaky steps interspersed with twists of passageway.  The floor is full\nof holes.  The stairs have been patched here and there, but look\nperilous and sway beneath the feet, A low door on the landing is opened\nby a bundle of rags and filth, out of which issues a woman's voice in\nhusky tones, bidding us enter.  She has La grippe.  We have to stand\nvery close together, for the room is small, and already contains three\nwomen, a man, a baby, a bedstead, a stove, and indescribable dirt.\nThe atmosphere is rank with impurity.  The man is evidently dying.\nSeven weeks ago he was \"gripped.\"  He is now in the last stages of\npneumonia.  Em has tried to induce him to be removed to the hospital,\nand he gasps out his desire \"to die in comfort in my own bed.\"  Comfort!\nThe \"bed' is a rack heaped with rags.  Sheets, pillow-cases, and\nnight-clothes are not in vogue in the slums.  A woman lies asleep on\nthe dirty floor with her head under the table.  Another woman, who has\nbeen sharing the night watch with the invalid's wife, is finishing her\nmorning meal, in which roast oysters on the half shell are conspicuous.\nA child that appears never to have been washed toddles about the floor\nand tumbles over the sleeping woman's form.  Em gives it some gruel,\nand ascertains that its name is \"Christine.\"\n\nThe dirt, crowding, and smells in the first place are characteristic of\nhalf a dozen others we visited.  We penetrate to garrets and descend\ninto cellars.  The \"rear houses\" are particularly dreadful.  Everywhere\nthere is decaying garbage lying about, and the dead cats and rats are\nevidence that there are mighty hunters among the gamins of the Fourth\nWard.  We find a number ill from the grip and consequent maladies.\nNone of the sufferers will entertain the thought of seeking a hospital.\nOne probably voices the opinion of the majority when he declares that\n\"they'll wash you to death there.\"  For these people a bath possesses\nmore terror than the gallows or the grave.\n\nIn one room, with a wee window, lies a women dying of consumption;\nwasted wan, and wretched, lying on rags and swarming with vermin.\nHer little son, a boy of eight years, nestles beside her.  His cheeks\nare scarlet, his eyes feverishly bright, and he has a hard cough.\n\"It's the chills, mum,\" says the little chap.  Six beds stand close\ntogether in another room; one is empty.  Three days ago a woman died\nthere and the body has just been taken away.  It hasn't disturbed the\nrest of the inmates to have death present there.  A woman is lying on\nthe wrecks of a bedstead, slats and posts sticking out in every\ndirection from the rags on which she reposes.\n\n\"It broke under me in the night,\" she explains.  A woman is sick and\nwants Liz to say a prayer.  We kneel on the filthy floor.  Soon all my\nfaculties are absorbed in speculating which will arrive first, the\n\"Amen\" or the \"B flat\" which is wending its way to wards me.  This time\nthe bug does not get there, and I enjoy grinding him under the sole of\nmy Slum shoe when the prayer is ended.\n\nIn another room we find what looks like a corpse.  It is a woman in an\nopium stupor.  Drunken men are brawling around her.\n\nReturning to our tenement, Em and Liz meet us, and we return to our\nexperience.  The minor details vary slightly, but the story is the same\npiteous tale of woe everywhere, and crime abounding, conditions which\nonly change to a prison, a plunge in the river, or the Potter's field.\n\nThe Dark Continent can show no lower depth of degradation than that\nsounded by the dwellers of the dark alleys in Cherry Hill.  There isn't\na vice missing in that quarter.  Every sin in the Decalogue flourishes\nin that feeder of penitentiaries and prisons.  And even as its moral\nfoulness permeates and poisons the veins of our social life so the\nmalarial filth with which the locality reeks must sooner or later\nspread disease and death.\n\nAn awful picture, truly, but one which is to me irradiated with the\nlove-light which shone in the eyes of \"Em's serious, sweet, saintlike\nface.\"\n\nHere is my second.  It was written by a Journalist who had just\nwitnessed the scene in Whitechapel.  He writes: --\n\nI had just passed Mr. Barnett's church when I was stopped by a small\ncrowd at a street corner.  There were about thirty or forty men, women,\nand children standing loosely together, some others were lounging on\nthe opposite side of the street round the door of a public-house.\nIn the centre of the crowd was a plain-looking little woman in\nSalvation Army uniform, with her eyes closed, praying the \"dear Lord\nthat he would bless these dear people, and save them, save them now!\"\nMoved by curiosity, I pressed through the outer fringe of the crowd,\nand in doing so, I noticed a woman of another kind, also invoking\nHeaven, but in an altogether different fashion.  Two dirty tramp-like\nmen were listening to the prayer, standing the while smoking their\nshort cutty pipes.  For some reason or other they had offended the\nwoman, and she was giving them a piece of her mind.  They stood\nstolidly silent while she went at them like a fiend.  She had been\ngood-looking once, but was now horribly bloated with drink, and excited\nby passion.  I heard both voices at the same time.  What a contrast!\nThe prayer was over now, and a pleading earnest address was being\ndelivered.\n\n\"You are wrong,\" said the voice in the centre \"you know you are; all\nthis misery and poverty is a proof of it.  You are prodigals.  You have\ngot away from your Father's house, and you are rebelling against Him\nevery day Can you wonder that there is so much hunger, and oppression,\nand wretchedness allowed to come upon you?  In the midst of it all your\nFather loves you He wants you to return to Him; to turn your backs upon\nyour sins; abandon your evil doings; give up the drink and the service\nof the devil.  He has given His Son Jesus Christ to die for you.\nHe wants to save you.  Come to His feet.  He is waiting.  His arms are\nopen.  I know the devil has got fast hold of you; but Jesus will give\nyou grace to conquer him.  He will help you to master your wicked\nhabits and your love of drink.  But come to Him now.  God is love.\nHe loves me.  He loves you.  He loves us all.  He wants to save us all.\"\n\nClear and strong the voice, eloquent with the fervour of intense\nfeeling, rang through the little crowd, past which streamed the\never-flowing tide of East End life.  And at the same time that I heard\nthis pure and passionate invocation to love God and be true to man I\nheard a voice on the outskirts, and it said this:  \"You ---- swine!\nI'll knock the vitals out of yer.  None of your ---- impudence to me.\n---- your ---- eyes, what do you mean by telling me that?  You know\nwhat you ha' done, and now you are going to the Salvation Army.\nI'll let them know you, you dirty rascal.\"  The man shifted his pipe.\n\"What's the matter?\"  \"Matter!\" screamed the virago hoarsely.\"  ----\nyer life, don't you know what's the matter?  I'll matter ye, you ----\nhound.  By God! I will, as sure as I'm alive.  Matter! you know what's\nthe matter.\"  And so she went on, the men standing silently smoking\nuntil at last she took herself off her mouth full of oaths and cursing,\nto the public-house.  It seemed as though the presence, and spirit,\nand words of the Officer, who still went on with the message of mercy,\nhad some strange effect upon them, which made these poor wretches\nimpervious to the taunting, bitter sarcasms of this brazen, blatant\nvirago.\n\n\"God is love.\"  Was it not, then, the accents of God's voice that\nsounded there above the din of the street and the swearing of the\nslums?  Yea, verily, and that voice ceases not and will not cease,\nso long as the Slum Sisters fight under the banner of the Salvation\nArmy.\n\nTo form an idea of the immense amount of good, temporal and spiritual,\nwhich the Slum Sister is doing; you need to follow them into the\nkennels where they live, preaching the Gospel with the mop and the\nscrubbing brush, and driving out the devil with soap and water.\nIn one of our Slum posts, where the Officer's rooms were on the ground\nfloor, about fourteen other families lived in the same house.\nOne little water-closet in the back yard had to do service for the\nwhole place.  As for the dirt, one Officer writes, \"It is impossible to\nscrub the Homes; some of them are in such a filthy condition.\nWhen they have a fire the ashes are left to accumulate for days.\nThe table is very seldom, if ever, properly cleaned, dirty cups and\nsaucers lie about it, together with bits of bread, and if they have\nbloaters the bones and heads are left on the table, Sometimes there are\npieces of onions mixed up with the rest.  The floors are in a very much\nworse condition than the street pavements, and when they are supposed\nto clean them they do it with about a pint of dirty water.  When they\nwash, which is rarely, for washing to them seems an unnecessary work,\nthey do it in a quart or two of water, and sometimes boil the things in\nsome old saucepan in which they cook their food.  They do this simply\nbecause they have no larger vessel to wash in.  The vermin fall off the\nwalls and ceiling on you while you are standing in the rooms.\nSome of the walls are covered with marks where they have killed them.\nMany people in the summer sit on the door steps all night, the reason\nfor this being, that their rooms are so close from the heat and so\nunendurable from the vermin that they prefer staying out in the cool\nnight air.  But as they cannot stay anywhere long without drinking,\nthey send for beer from the neighbouring public--alas! never far away\n--and pass it from one doorway to another, the result being singing,\nshouting and fighting up till three and four o'clock in the morning.\"\n\nI could fill volumes with stories of the war against vermin, which is\npart of this campaign in the slums, but the subject is too revolting to\nthose who are often indifferent to the agonies their fellow creatures\nsuffer, so long as their sensitive ears are not shocked by the mention\nof so painful a subject.  Here, for instance, is a sample of the kind\nof region in which the Slum Sisters spend themselves:\n\n\"In an apparently respectable street near Oxford street, the Officers\nwhere visiting one day when they saw a very dark staircase leading into\na cellar, and thinking it possible that someone might be there they\nattempted to go down, and yet the staircase was so dark they thought it\nimpossible for anyone to be there.  However, they tried again and\ngroped their way along in the dark for some time until at last they\nfound the door and entered the room.  At first they could not discern\nanything because of the darkness.  But after they got used to it they\nsaw a filthy room.  There was no fire in the grate, but the fire-place\nwas heaped up with ashes, an accumulation of several weeks at least.\nAt one end of the room there was an old sack of rags and bones partly\nemptied upon the floor, from which there came a most unpleasant odour.\nAt the other end lay an old man very ill.  The apology for a bed on\nwhich he lay was filthy and had neither sheets nor blankets.\nHis covering consisted of old rags.  His poor wife, who attended on\nhim, appeared to be a stranger to soap and water.  These Slum Sisters\nnursed the old people, and on one occasion undertook to do their\nwashing, and they brought it home to their copper for this purpose,\nbut it was so infested with vermin that they did not know how to wash\nit.  Their landlady, who happened to see them, forbade them ever to\nbring such stuff there any more.  The old man, when well enough, worked\nat his trade, which was tailoring.  They had two shillings and sixpence\nper week from the parish.\"\n\nHere is a report from the headquarters of our Slum Brigade as to the\nwork which the Slum Sisters have done.  It is almost four years since\nthe Slum Work was started in London.  The principal work done by our\nfirst Officers was that of visiting the sick, cleansing the homes of\nthe Slummers, and of feeding the hungry.  The following are a few of\nthe cases of those who have gained temporally, as well as spiritually,\nthrough our work: --\n\nMrs. W.--Of Haggerston Slum.  Heavy drinker, wrecked home, husband a\ndrunkard, place dirty and filthy, terribly poor.  Saved now over two\nyears, home A1., plenty of employment at cane-chair bottoming; husband\nnow saved also.\n\nMrs. R.--Drury Lane Slum.  Husband and wife, drunkards; husband\nvery lazy, only worked when starved in to it.  We found them both out\nof work, home furnitureless, in debt.  She got saved, and our lasses\nprayed for him to get work.  He did so, and went to it.  He fell out\nagain a few weeks after, and beat his wife.  She sought employment at\ncharing and office cleaning, got it, and has been regularly at work\nsince.  He too got work.  He is now a teetotaler.  The home is very\ncomfortable now, and they are putting money in the bank.\n\nA.M. in the Dials.  Was a great drunkard, thriftless, did not go to\nthe trouble of seeking work.  Was in a Slum meeting, heard the Captain\nspeak on \"Seek first the Kingdom of God!\" called out and said,\n\"Do you mean that if I ask God for work, He will give it me?\"\nOf course she said, \"Yes.\"  He was converted that night, found work,\nand is now employed in the Gas Works, Old Kent Road.\n\nJimmy is a soldier in the Boro' Slum!  Was starving when he got\nconverted through being out of work.  Through joining the Army, he was\nturned out of his home.  He found work, and now owns a coffee-stall in\nBillingsgate Market, and is doing well.\n\nSergeant R.--Of Marylebone Slum.  Used to drink, lived in a wretched\nplace in the famous Charles Street, had work at two places, at one of\nwhich he got 5s. a week and the other 10s., when he got saved;\nthis was starvation wages, on which to keep himself, his wife,\nand four children.  At the 10s. a week work he had to deliver drink for\na spirit merchant; feeling condemned over it, he gave it up, and was\nout of work for weeks.  The brokers were put in, but the Lord rescued\nhim just in time.  The 5s. a week employer took him afterwards at 18s.,\nand he is now earning 22s., and has left the ground-floor slum tenement\nfor a better house.\n\nH.--Nine Elms Slum.  Was saved on Easter Monday, out of work several\nweeks before, is a labourer, seems very earnest, in terrible distress.\nWe allow his wife 2s. 6d. a week for cleaning the hall (to help them).\nIn addition to that, she gets another 2s. 6d. for nursing, and on that\nhusband, wife, and a couple of children pay the rent of 2s. a week and\ndrag out an existence.  I have tried to get work for this man, but have\nfailed.\n\nT.--Of Rotherhithe Slum.  Was a great drunkard, is a carpenter;\nsaved about nine months ago, but, having to work in a public-house on a\nSunday, he gave it up; he has not been able to get another job, and has\nnothing but what we have given him for making seats.\n\nEmma Y.--Now a Soldier of the Marylebone Slum Post, was a wild young\nSlummer when we opened in the Boro'; could be generally seen in the\nstreets, wretchedly clad, her sleeves turned up, idle, only worked\noccasionally, got saved two years ago, had terrible persecution in her\nhome.  We got her a situation, where she has been for nearly eighteen\nmonths, and is now a good servant.\n\nLodging-House Frank.--At twenty-one came into the possession of\n#750, but, through drink and gambling, lost it all in six or eight\nmonths, and for over seven years he has tramped about from Portsmouth,\nthrough the South of England, and South Wales, from one lodging-house\nto another, often starving, drinking when he could get any money;\nthriftless, idle, no heart for work.  We found him in a lodging-house\nsix months ago, living with a fallen girl; got them both saved and\nmarried; five weeks after he got work as a carpenter at 30s. a week.\nHe has a home of his own now, and promises well to make an officer.\n\nThe Officer who furnishes the above reports goes on to say: --\n\nI can't call the wretched dwelling home, to which drink had brought\nBrother and Sister X.  From a life of luxury, they drifted down by\ndegrees to one room in a Slum tenement, surrounded by drunkards and the\nvilest characters.  Their lovely half-starved children were compelled\nto listen to the foulest language, and hear fighting and quarrelling,\nand alas, alas, not only to hear it in the adjoining rooms, but witness\nit within their own.  For over two years they have been delivered from\nthe power of the cursed drink.  The old rookery is gone, and now they\nhave a comfortably-furnished home.  Their children give evidence of\nbeing truly converted, and have a lively gratitude for their father's\nsalvation.  One boy of eight said, last Christmas Day, \"I remember when\nwe had only dry bread for Christmas; but to-day we had a goose and two\nplum-puddings.\"  Brother X. was dismissed in disgrace from his\nsituation as commercial traveller before his conversion; to-day he is\nchief man, next to his employer, in a large business house.\n\nHe says: --\n\nI and perfectly satisfied that very few of the lowest strata of Society\nare unwilling to work if they could get it.  The wretched hand-to-mouth\nexistence many of them have to live disheartens them, and makes life\nwith them either a feast or a famine, and drives those who have brains\nenough to crime.\n\nThe results of our work in the Slums may be put down as: --\n\n1st.  A marked improvement in the cleanliness of the homes and\n      children; disappearance of vermin, and a considerable lessening\n      of drunkenness.\n\n2nd.  A greater respect for true religion, and especially that of the\n      Salvation Army.\n\n3rd.  A much larger amount of work is being done now than before our\n      going there.\n\n4th.  The rescue of many fallen girls.\n\n5th.  The Shelter work seems to us a development of the Slum work.\n\nIn connection with our Scheme, we propose to immediately increase the\nnumbers of these Slum Sisters, and to add to their usefulness by\ndirectly connecting their operations with the Colony, enabling them\nthereby to help the poor people to conditions of life more favourable\nto health, morals, and religion.  This would be accomplished by getting\nsome of them employment in the City, which must necessarily result in\nbetter homes and surroundings, or in the opening up for others of a\nstraight course from the Slums to the Farm Colony.\n\n\nSECTION 2.--THE TRAVELLING HOSPITAL.\n\nOf course, there is only one real remedy for this state of things,\nand that is to take the people away from the wretched hovels in which\nthey sicken, suffer, and die, with less comfort and consideration than\nthe cattle in the stalls and styes of many a country Squire.\nAnd this is certainly our ultimate ambition, but for the present\ndistress something might be done on the lines of district nursing,\nwhich is only in very imperfect operation.\n\nI have been thinking that if a little Van, drawn by a pony, could be\nfitted up with what is ordinarily required by the sick and dying, and\ntrot round amongst these abodes of desolation, with a couple of nurses\ntrained for the business, it might be of immense service, without being\nvery costly.  They could have a few simple instruments, so as to draw a\ntooth or lance an abscess, and what was absolutely requisite for simple\nsurgical operations.  A little oil-stove for hot water to prepare a\npoultice, or a hot foment, or a soap wash, and a number of other\nnecessaries for nursing, could be carried with ease.\n\nThe need for this will only be appreciated by those who know how\nutterly bereft of all the comforts and conveniences for attending to\nthe smallest matters in sickness which prevails in these abodes of\nwretchedness.  It may be suggested, why don't the people when they\nare ill go to the hospital?  To which we simply reply that they won't.\nThey cling to their own bits of rooms and to the companionship of\nthe members of their own families, brutal as they often are,\nand would rather stay and suffer, and die in the midst of all the\nfilth and squalor that surrounds them in their own dens, than go to\nthe big house, which, to them, looks very like a prison.\n\nThe sufferings of the wretched occupants of the Slums that we have been\ndescribing, when sick and unable to help themselves, makes the\norganisation of some system of nursing them in their own homes a\nChristian duty.  Here are a handful of cases, gleaned almost at random\nfrom the reports of our Slum Sisters, which will show the value of the\nagency above described: --\n\nMany of those who are sick have often only one room, and often several\nchildren.  The Officers come across many cases where, with no one to\nlook after them, they have to lie for hours without food or nourishment\nof any kind.  Sometimes the neighbours will take them in a cup of tea.\nIt is really a mystery how they live.\n\nA poor woman in Drury Lane was paralyzed.  She had no one to attend to\nher; she lay on the floor, on a stuffed sack, and an old piece of cloth\nto cover her.  Although it was winter, she very seldom had any fire.\nShe had no garments to wear, and but very little to eat.\n\nAnother poor woman, who was very ill, was allowed a little money by her\ndaughter to pay her rent and get her food; but very frequently she had\nnot the strength to light a fire or to get herself food.  She was\nparted from her husband because of his cruelty.  Often she lay for\nhours without a soul to visit or help her.\n\nAdjutant McClellan found a man lying on a straw mattress in a very bad\ncondition.  The room was filthy; the smell made the Officer feel ill.\nThe man had been lying for days without having anything done for him.\nA cup of water was by his side.  The Officers vomited from the terrible\nsmells of this place.  Frequently sick people are found who need the\ncontinual application of hot poultices, but who are left with a cold\none for hours.\n\nIn Marylebone the Officers visited a poor old woman who was very ill.\nShe lived in an underground back kitchen, with hardly a ray of light\nand never a ray of sunshine.  Her bed was made up on some egg boxes.\nShe had no one to look after her, except a drunken daughter, who very\noften, when drunk, used to knock the poor old woman about very badly.\nThe Officers frequently found that she had not eaten any food up to\ntwelve o'clock, not even a cup of tea to drink.  The only furniture in\nthe room was a small table, an old fender, and a box.  The vermin\nseemed to be innumerable.\n\nA poor woman was taken very ill, but, having a small family, she felt\nshe must get up and wash them.  While she was washing the baby she fell\ndown and was unable to move.  Fortunately a neighbour came in soon\nafter to ask some question, and saw her lying there.  She at once ran\nand fetched another neighbour.  Thinking the poor woman was dead, they\ngot her into bed and sent for a doctor.  He said she was in consumption\nand required quiet and nourishment.  This the poor woman could not get,\non account of her children.  She got up a few hours afterwards.  As she\nwas going downstairs she fell down again.  The neighbour picked her up\nand put her back to bed, where for a long time she lay thoroughly\nprostrated.  The Officers took her case in hand, fed, and nursed her,\ncleaned her room and generally looked after her.\n\nIn another dark slum the Officers found a poor old woman in an\nunderground back kitchen.  She was suffering with some complaint.\nWhen they knocked at the door she was terrified for fear it was the\nlandlord.  The room was in a most filthy condition, never having\nbeen cleaned.  She had a penny paraffin lamp which filled the room\nwith smoke.  The old woman was at times totally unable to do anything\nfor herself.  The Officers looked after her.\n\nSECTION 3. REGENERATlON OF OUR CRIMINALS.--THE PRISON GATE BRIGADE\n\nOur Prisons ought to be reforming institutions, which should turn men\nout better than when they entered their doors.  As a matter of fact\nthey are often quite the reverse.  There are few persons in this world\nmore to be pitied than the poor fellow who has served his first term of\nimprisonment or finds himself outside the gaol doors without a\ncharacter, and often without a friend in the world.  Here, again,\nthe process of centralization, gone on apace of late years, however\ndesirable it maybe in the interests of administration, tells with\ndisastrous effects on the poor wretches who are its victims.\n\nIn the old times, when a man was sent to prison, the gaol stood within\na stone's throw of his home.  When he came out he was at any rate close\nto his old friends and relations, who would take him in and give him a\nhelping hand to start once more a new life.  But what has happened\nowing to the desire of the Government to do away with as many local\ngaols as possible?  The prisoners, when convicted, are sent long\ndistances by rail to the central prisons, and on coming out find\nthemselves cursed with the brand of the gaol bird, so far from home,\ncharacter gone, and with no one to fall back upon for counsel, or to\ngive them a helping hand.  No wonder it is reported that vagrancy has\nmuch increased in some large towns on account of discharged prisoners\ntaking to begging, having no other resource.\n\nIn the competition for work no employer is likely to take a man who is\nfresh from gaol; nor are mistresses likely to engage a servant whose\nlast character was her discharge from one of Her Majesty's prisons.\nIt is incredible how much mischief is often done by well-meaning\npersons, who, in struggling towards the attainment of an excellent end\n--such, for instance, as that of economy and efficiency in prison\nadministration--forget entirely the bearing which their reforms may\nhave upon the prisoners themselves.\n\nThe Salvation Army has at least one great qualification for dealing\nwith this question I believe I am in the proud position of being at the\nhead of the only religious body which has always some of its members in\ngaol for conscience' sake.  We are also one of the few religious bodies\nwhich can boast that many of those who are in our ranks have gone\nthrough terms of penal servitude.  We, therefore, know the prison at\nboth ends.  Some men go to gaol because they are better than their\nneighbours, most men because they are worse.  Martyrs, patriots,\nreformers of all kinds belong to the first category.  No great cause\nhas ever achieved a triumph before it has furnished a certain quota to\nthe prison population.  The repeal of an unjust law is seldom carried\nuntil a certain number of those who are labouring for the reform have\nexperienced in their own persons the hardships of fine and imprisonment.\nChristianity itself would never have triumphed over the Paganism of\nancient Rome had the early Christians not been enabled to testify from\nthe dungeon and the arena as to the sincerity and serenity of soul with\nwhich they could confront their persecutors, and from that time down to\nthe successful struggles of our people for the right of public meeting\nat Whitchurch and elsewhere, the Christian religion and the liberties\nof men have never failed to demand their quota of martyrs for the\nfaith.\n\nWhen a man has been to prison in the best of causes he learns to look\nat the question of prison discipline with a much more sympathetic eye\nfor those who are sent there, even for the worst offences, than judges\nand legislators who only look at the prison from the outside.\n\"A fellow-feeling makes one wondrous kind,\" and it is an immense\nadvantage to us in dealing with the criminal classes that many of our\nbest Officers have themselves been in a prison cell.  Our people, thank\nGod, have never learnt to regard a prisoner as a mere convict--A 234.\nHe is ever a human being to them, who is to be cared for and looked\nafter as a mother looks after her ailing child.  At present there seems\nto be but little likelihood of any real reform in the interior of our\nprisons.  We have therefore to wait until the men come outside, in\norder to see what, can be done.  Our work begins when that of the\nprison authorities ceases.  We have already had a good deal of\nexperience in this work, both here and in Bombay, in Ceylon,\nin South Africa, in Australia and elsewhere, and as the nett result of\nour experience we proceed now to set forth the measures we intend to\nadopt, some of which are already in successful operation.\n\n1. We propose the opening of Homes for this class as near as possible\n   to the different gaols. One for men has just been taken at\n   King's Cross, and will be occupied as soon as it can be got ready.\n   One for women must follow immediately.  Others will be required in\n   different parts of the Metropolis, and contiguous to each of its\n   great prisons.  Connected with these Homes will be workshops in\n   which the inmates will be regularly employed until such time as we\n   can get them work elsewhere.  For this class must also work,\n   not only as a discipline, but as the means for their own support.\n\n2. In order to save, as far as possible, first offenders from the\n   contamination of prison life, and to prevent the formation of\n   further evil companionships, and the recklessness which follows the\n   loss of character entailed by imprisonment, we would offer, in the\n   Police and Criminal Courts, to take such offenders under our wing as\n   were anxious to come and willing to accept our regulations.\n   The confidence of both magistrates and prisoners would, we think,\n   soon be secured, the friends of the latter would be mostly on our\n   side, and the probability, therefore, is that we should soon have a\n   large  number of cases placed under our care on what is known as\n   \"suspended sentence,\" to be brought up for judgment when called\n   upon, the record of each sentence to be wiped out on report being\n   favourable of their conduct in the Salvation Army Home.\n\n3. We should seek access to the prisons in order to gain such\n   acquaintance with the prisoners as would enable us the more\n   effectually to benefit them on their discharge.  This privilege,\n   we think, would be accorded us by the prison authorities when they\n   became acquainted with the nature of our work and the remarkable\n   results which followed it.  The right of entry into the gaols has\n   already been conceded to our people in Australia, where they have\n   free access to, and communion with, the inmates while under going\n   their sentences.  Prisoners are recommended to come to us by the\n   gaol authorities, who also forward to our people information of the\n   date and hour when they leave, in order that they may be met on\n   their release,\n\n4. We propose to meet the criminals at the prison gates with the offer\n   of immediate admission to our Homes.  The general rule is for them\n   to be met by their friends or old associates, who ordinarily belong\n   to the same class.  Any way, it would be an exception to the rule\n   were they not all alike believers in the comforting and cheering\n   power of the intoxicating cup.  Hence the public-house is invariably\n   adjourned to, where plans for further crime are often decided upon\n   straight away, resulting frequently, before many weeks are past,\n   in the return of the liberated convict to the confinement from\n   which he has just escaped.  Having been accustomed during confinement\n   to the implicit submission of themselves to the will of another, the\n   newly-discharged prisoner is easily influenced by whoever first gets\n   hold of him.  Now, we propose to be beforehand with these old\n   companions by taking the gaol-bird under our wing and setting before\n   him an open door of hope the moment he crosses the threshold of the\n   prison, assuring him that if he is willing to work and comply with\n   our discipline, he never need know want any more.\n\n5. We shall seek from the authorities the privilege of supervising\n   and reporting upon those who are discharged with tickets-of-leave,\n   so as to free them from the humiliating and harassing duty of having\n   to report themselves at the police stations.\n\n6. We shall find suitable employment for each individual.  If not in\n   possession of some useful trade or calling we will teach him one.\n\n7. After a certain length of residence in these Homes, if consistent\n   evidence is given of a sincere purpose to live an honest life,\n   he will be transferred to the Farm Colony, unless in the meanwhile\n   friends or old employers take him off our hands, or some other form\n   of occupation is obtained, in which case he will still be the object\n   of watchful care.\n\nWe shall offer to all the ultimate possibility of being restored to\nSociety in this country, or transferred to commence life afresh in\nanother\n\nWith respect to results we can speak very positively, for although our\noperations up to the present, except for a short time some three years\nago, have been limited, and unassisted by the important accessories\nabove described, yet the success that has at tended them has been most\nremarkable.  The following are a few instances which might be\nmultiplied: --\n\nJ. W. was met at prison gate by the Captain of the Home and offered\nhelp.  He declined to come at once as he had friends in Scotland who he\nthought would help him; but if they failed, he promised to come.\nIt was his first conviction, and he had six months for robbing his\nemployer.  His trade was that of a baker.  In a few days he presented\nhimself at the Home, and was received.  In the course of a few weeks,\nhe professed conversion, and gave every evidence of the change.\nFor four months he was cook and baker in the kitchen, and at last a\nsituation as second hand was offered for him, with the [sic]\n\nJ. S. Sergeant-major of the Congress Hall Corps.  That is three years\nago.   He is there to-day, saved, and satisfactory; a thoroughly useful\nand respectable man.\n\nJ. P. was an old offender.  He was met at Millbank on the expiration\nof his last term (five years), and brought to the Home, where he worked\nat his trade a tailor.  Eventually he got a situation, and has since\nmarried.  He has now a good home, the confidence of his neighbours,\nis well saved, and a soldier of the Hackney Corps.\n\nC. M. Old offender, and penal servitude case.  Was induced to come to\nthe Home, got saved, was there for a long period, offered for the work,\nand went into the Field, was Lieutenant for two years, and eventually\nmarried.  He is now a respectable mechanic and soldier of a Corps in\nDerbyshire.\n\nJ. W. Was manager in a large West End millinery establishment.\nHe was sent out with two ten-pound packages of silver to change.\nOn his way he met a companion and was induced to take a drink.\nIn the tavern the companion made an excuse to go outside and did not\nreturn, and W. found one of the packages had been abstracted from his\noutside pocket.  He was afraid to return, and decamped with the other\ninto the country.  Whilst in a small town he strolled into a Mission\nHall; there happened to be a hitch in the proceedings, the organist was\nabsent, a volunteer was called for, and W., being a good musician,\noffered to play.  It seems the music took hold of him.  In the middle\nof the hymn he walked out and went to the police station and gave\nhimself up.  He got six months.  When he came out, he saw that Happy\nGeorge, an ex-gaol bird, was announced at the Congress Hall.  He went\nto the meeting and was induced to come to the Home.  He eventually got\nsaved, and to-day he is at the head of a Mission work in the provinces.\n\n\"Old Dan\" was a penal servitude case, and had had several long\nsentences.  He came into the Home and was saved.  He managed the\nbootmaking there for a long time.  He has since gone into business at\nHackney, and is married.  He is of four years' standing, a thorough\nrespectable tradesman, and a Salvationist.\n\nCharles C. has done in the aggregate twenty-three years' penal\nservitude.  Was out on licence, and got saved at the Hull Barracks.\nAt that time he had neglected to report himself, and had destroyed his\nlicence, taking an assumed name.  When he got saved he gave himself up,\nand was taken before the magistrate, who, instead of sending him back\nto fulfil his sentence, gave him up to the Army.  He was sent to us\nfrom Hull by our representative, is now in our factory and doing well.\nHe is still under police supervision for five years.\n\nH. Kelso.  Also a licence man.  He had neglected to report himself,\nand was arrested.  While before the magistrate he said he was tired of\ndishonesty, and would go to the Salvation Army if they would discharge\nhim.  He was sent back to penal servitude.  Application was made by us\nto the Home Secretary on his behalf, and Mr. Matthews granted his\nrelease.  He was handed over to our Officers at Bristol, brought to\nLondon, and is now in the Factory, saved and doing well.\n\nE. W. belongs to Birmingham, is in his forty-ninth year, and has been\nin and out of prison all his life.  He was at Redhill Reformatory five\nyears, and his last term was five years' penal servitude.  The Chaplain\nat Pentonville advised him it he really meant reformation to seek the\nSalvation Army on his release.  He came to Thames Street, was sent to\nthe Workshop and professed salvation the following Sunday at the\nShelter.  This is three months ago.  He is quite satisfactory,\nindustrious, contented and seemingly godly.\n\nA. B., Gentleman loafer, good prospects, drink and idleness broke up\nhis home, killed his wife, and got him into gaol.  Presbyterian\nminister, friend of his family, tried to reclaim him, but\nunsuccessfully.  He entered the Prison Gate Home, became thoroughly\nsaved, distributed handbills for the Home, and ultimately got work in a\nlarge printing and publishing works, where, after three years' service,\nhe now occupies a most responsible position.  Is an elder in the\nPresbyterian Church, restored to his family, and the possessor of a\nhappy home.\n\nW. C., a native of London, a good-for-nothing lad, idle and dissolute.\nWhen leaving England his father warned him that if he didn't alter he'd\nend his days on the gallows.  Served various sentences on all sorts of\ncharges.  Over six years ago we took him in hand, admitted him into\nPrison Gate Brigade Home, where he became truly saved; he got a job of\npainting, which he had learnt in gaol, and has married a woman who had\nformerly been a procuress, but had passed through our Rescued Sinners'\nHome, and there became thoroughly converted.  Together they have braved\nthe storms of life, both working diligently for their living.\nThey have now a happy little home of their own, and are doing very well.\n\nF. X., the son of a Government officer, a drunkard, gambler, forger,\nand all-round blackguard; served numerous sentences for forgery.\nOn his last discharge was admitted into Prison Gate Brigade Home, where\nhe stayed about five months and became truly saved.  Although his\nhealth was completely shattered from the effects of his sinful life,\nhe steadfastly resisted all temptations to drink, and kept true to God.\nThrough advertising in the War Cry, he found his lost son and daughter,\nwho are delighted with the wonderful change in their father.  They have\nbecome regular attendants at our meetings in the Temperance Hall.\nHe now keeps a coffee-stall, is doing well, and properly saved.\n\nG. A., 72, spent 23 years in gaol, last sentence two years for\nburglary; was a drunkard, gambler, and swearer.  Met on his discharge\nby the Prison Gate Brigade, admitted into Home, where he remained four\nmonths, and became truly saved.  He is living a consistent, godly life,\nand is in employment.\n\nC. D., aged 64, opium-smoker, gambler, blackguard, separated from wife\nand family, and eventually landed in gaol, was met on his discharge and\nadmitted into Prison Gate Brigade Home, was saved, and is now restored\nto his wife and family, and giving satisfaction in his employment.\n\nS. T. was an idle, loafing, thieving, swearing, disreputable young man,\nwho lived, when out of gaol, with the low prostitutes of Little Bourke\nStreet.  Was taken in hand by our Prison Gate Brigade Officers,\nwho got him saved, then found him work.  After a few months he\nexpressed a desire to work for God, and although a cripple, and having\nto use a crutch, such was his earnestness that he was accepted and has\ndone good service as an Army officer.  His testimony is good and his\nlife consistent.  He is, indeed, a marvel of Divine grace.\n\nM. J., a young man holding a high position in England, got into a fast\nset; thought a change to the Colonies would be to his advantage.\nStarted for Australia with #200 odd, of which he spent a good portion\non board ship in drink, soon dissipated the balance on landing,\nand woke up one morning to find himself in gaol, with delirium tremens\non him, no money, his luggage lost, and without a friend on the whole\ncontinent.  On his discharge he entered our Prison Gate Home,\nbecame converted, and is now occupying a responsible position in a\nColonial Bank.\n\nB. C., a man of good birth, education, and position; drank himself out\nof home and friends and into gaol on leaving which he came to our Home;\nwas saved, exhibiting by an earnest and truly consistent life the depth\nof his conversion, being made instrumental while with us in the\nsalvation of many who, like himself, had come to utter destitution and\ncrime through drink.  He is now in a first-class situation, getting\n#300 a year, wife and family restored, the possessor of a happy home,\nand the love of God shed abroad in it.\n\nI do not produce these samples, which are but a few, taken at random\nfrom the many, for the purpose of boasting.  The power which has\nwrought these miracles is not in me nor in my Officers; it is power\nwhich comes down from above.  But I think I may fairly point to these\ncases, in which our instrumentality has been blessed, to the plucking\nof these brands from the burning, as affording some justification for\nthe plea to be enabled to go on with this work on a much more extended\nscale.  If any other organisation, religious or secular, can show\nsimilar trophies as the result of such limited operations as ours have\nhitherto been among the criminal population, I am willing to give place\nto them.  All that I want is to have the work done.\n\n\nSECTION 4.--EFFECTUAL DELIVERANCE FOR THE DRUNKARD.\n\nThe number, misery, and hopeless condition of the slaves of strong\ndrink, of both sexes, have been already dealt with at considerable\nlength.\n\nWe have seen that there are in Great Britain one million of men and\nwomen, or thereabouts, completely under the domination of this cruel\nappetite.  The utter helplessness of Society to deal with the drunkard\nhas been proved again and again, and confessed on all hands by those\nwho have had experience on the subject.  As we have before said, the\ngeneral feeling of all those who have tried their hands at this kind of\nbusiness is one of despair.  They think the present race of drunkards\nmust be left to perish, that every species of effort having proved\nvain, the energies expended in the endeavour to rescue the parents will\nbe laid out to greater advantages upon the children.\n\nThere is a great deal of truth in all this.  Our own efforts have been\nsuccessful in a very remarkable degree.  Some of the bravest, most\ndevoted, and successful workers in our ranks are men and women who were\nonce the most abject slaves of the intoxicating cup.  Instances of this\nhave been given already.  We might multiply them by thousands.\nStill, when compared with the ghastly array which the drunken army\npresents to-day, those rescued are comparatively few.  The great reason\nfor this is the simple fact that the vast majority of those addicted to\nthe cup are its veritable slaves.  No amount of reasoning, or earthly\nor religious considerations, can have any effect upon a man who is so\ncompletely under the mastery of this passion that he cannot break away\nfrom it, although he sees the most terrible consequences staring him in\nthe face.\n\nThe drunkard promises and vows, but promises and vows in vain.\nOccasionally he will put forth frantic efforts to deliver himself,\nbut only to fall again in the presence of the opportunity.\nThe insatiable crave controls him.  He cannot get away from it.\nIt compels him to drink, whether he will or not, and, unless delivered\nby an Almighty hand, he will drink himself into a drunkard's grave and\na drunkard's hell.\n\nOur annals team with successful rescues effected from the ranks of\nthe drunken army.  The following will not only be examples of this,\nbut will tend to illustrate the strength and madness of the passion\nwhich masters the slave to strong drink.\n\nBarbara.--She had sunk about as low as any woman could when we found\nher.  From the age of eighteen, when her parents had forced her to\nthrow over her sailor sweetheart and marry a man with \"good prospects,\"\nshe had been going steadily down.\n\nShe did not love her husband, and soon sought comfort from the little\npublic-house only a few steps from her own door.  Quarrels in her home\nquickly gave place to fighting, angry curses, and oaths, and soon her\nlife became one of the most wretched in the place.  Her husband made no\npretence of caring for her, and when she was ill and unable to earn\nmoney by selling fish in the streets, he would go off for a few months,\nleaving her to keep the house and support herself and babies as best\nshe could.  Out of her twenty years of married life, ten were spent in\nthese on-and-off separations.  And so she got to live for only one\nthing--drink.  It was life to her; and the mad craving grew to be\nirresistible.  The woman who looked after her at the birth of her child\nrefused to fetch her whisky, so when she had done all she could and\nleft the mother to rest, Barbara crept out of bed and crawled slowly\ndown the stairs over the way to the tap-room, where she sat drinking\nwith the baby, not yet an hour old, in her arms.  So things went on,\nuntil her life got so unbearable that she determined to have done with\nit.  Taking her two eldest children with her, she went down to the bay,\nand deliberately threw them both into the water, jumping in herself\nafter them.  \"Oh, mither, mither, dinna droon me!\" wailed her little\nthree-year-old Sarah, but she was determined and held them under the\nwater, till, seeing a boat put out to the rescue she knew that she was\ndiscovered.  Too late to do it now, she thought, and, holding both\nchildren, swam quickly back to the shore.  A made-up story about having\nfallen into the water satisfied the boatman, and Barbara returned home\ndripping and baffled.  But little Sarah did not recover from the shock,\nand after a few weeks her short life ended, and she was laid in the\nCemetery.\n\nYet another time, goaded to desperation, she tried to take her life\nby hanging herself, but a neighbour came in and cut her down\nunconscious, but still living.  She became a terror to all the\nneighbourhood, and her name was the bye-word for daring and desperate\nactions.  But our Open-Air Meetings attracted her, she came to the\nBarracks, got saved, and was delivered from her love of drink and sin.\n\nFrom being a dread her home became a sort of house of refuge in the\nlittle low street where she lived; other wives as unhappy as herself\nwould come in for advice and help.  Anyone knew that Barbie was\nchanged, and loved to do all she could for her neighbours.\nA few months ago she came up to the Captain's in great distress over a\nwoman who lived just opposite.  She had been cruelly kicked and cursed\nby her husband, who had finally bolted the door against her, and she\nhad turned to Barbie as the only hope.  And of course Barbie took her\nin, with her rough-and-ready kindness got her to bed, kept out the\nother women who crowded round to sympathise and declaim against the\nhusband's brutality, was both nurse and doctor for the poor woman till\nher child was born and laid in the mother's arms.  And then, to\nBarbie's distress, she could do no more, for the woman, not daring to\nbe absent longer, got up as best she could, and crawled on hands and\nknees down the little steep steps, across the street, and back to her\nown door.  \"But, Barbie!\" exclaimed the Captain, horrified,\n\"you should have nursed her, and kept her until she was strong enough.\"\nBut Barbie answered by reminding the Captain of \"John's\" fearful\ntemper, and how it might cost the woman her life to be absent from her\nhome more than a couple of hours.\n\nThe second is the case of--\n\nMaggie.--She had a home, but seldom was sober enough to reach it at\nnights.  She would fall down on the doorsteps until found by some\npasser-by or a policeman.\n\nIn one of her mad freaks a boon-companion happened to offend her.\nHe was a little hunch-back, and a fellow-drunkard; but without a\nmoment's hesitation, Maggie seized him and pushed him head-foremost\ndown the old-fashioned wide sewer of the Scotch town.  Had not some one\nseen his heel's kicking out and rescued him, he would surley have been\nsuffocated.\n\nOne winter's night Maggie had been drinking heavily, fighting, too,\nas usual, and she staggered only as far, on her way home, as the narrow\nchain-pier.  Here she stumbled and fell, and lay along on the snow, the\nblood oozing from her cuts, and her hair spread out in a tangled mass.\n\nAt 5 in the morning, some factory girls, crossing the bridge to their\nwork, came upon her, lying stiff and stark amidst the snow and\ndarkness.\n\nTo rouse her from her drunken sleep was hard, but to raise her from the\nground was still harder.  The matted hair and blood had frozen fast to\nthe earth, and Maggie was a prisoner.  After trying to free her in\ndifferent ways, and receiving as a reward volleys of abuse and bad\nlanguage, one of the girl's ran for a kettle of boiling water, and by\npouring it all around her, they succeeded by degrees in melting her on\nto her feet again!  But she came to our Barracks, and got soundly\nconverted, and the Captain was rewarded for nights and days of toil by\nseeing her a saved and sober woman.\n\nAll went right till a friend asked her to his house, to drink his\nhealth, and that of his newly-married wife.  \"I wouldn't ask you to\ntake anything strong,\" he said.  \"Drink to me with this lemonade.\"\nAnd Maggie, nothing suspecting, drank, and as she drank tasted in the\nglass her old enemy, whisky!  The man laughed at her dismay, but a\nfriend rushed off to tell the Captain.  \"I may be in time, she has not\nreally gone back\"; and the Captain ran to the house, tying her bonnet\nstrings as she ran.  \"It's no good--keep awa'--I don't want to\nsee'er, Captain,\" wailed Maggie \"let me have some more--oh, I'm on\nfire inside.\"  But the Captain was firm, and taking her to her home,\nshe locked herself in with the woman, and sat with the key in her\npocket, while Maggie, half mad with craving, paced the floor like a\ncaged animal, threatening and entreating by terms.  \"Never while I live,\"\nwas all the answer she could get; so she turned to the door, and busied\nherself there a moment or two.  A clinking noise.  The Captain started\nup--to see the door open and Maggie rush through it!  Accustomed to\nstealing and all its \"dodges,\" she had taken the lock off the door,\nand was away to the nearest public-house.\n\nDown the stairs, Captain after her, into the gin palace; but before the\nastonished publican could give her the drink she was clamouring for,\nthe \"bonnet\" was by her side, \"If you dare to serve her, I'll break the\nglass before it reaches her lips.  She shall not have any!\" and so\nMaggie was coaxed away, and shielded till the passion was over, and she\nwas Herself once more.\n\nBut the man who gave her the whisky durst not leave his house for\nweeks.  The roughs got to know of the trap he had laid for her,\nand would have lynched him could they have got hold of him.\n\nThe third is the case of Rose.\n\nRose was ruined, deserted, and left to the streets when only a girl of\nthirteen, by a once well-to-do man, who is now, we believe, closing his\ndays in a workhouse in the North of England.\n\nFatherless, motherless, and you might almost say friendless, Rose trod\nthe broad way to destruction, with all its misery and shame, for twelve\nlong years.  Her wild, passionate nature, writhing under the wrong\nsuffered, sought forgetfulness in the intoxicating cup, and she soon\nbecame a notorious drunkard.  Seventy-four times during her career she\nwas dragged before the magistrates, and seventy-four times, with one\nexception, she was punished, but the seventy-fourth time she was\nas far off reformation as ever.  The one exception happened on the\nQueen's Jubilee Day.  On seeing her well-known face again before him, the\nmagistrate enquired, \"How many times has this woman been here before?\"\n\nThe Police Superintendent answered, \"Fifty times.\"  The magistrate\nremarked, in somewhat grim humour, \"Then this is her Jubilee,\" and,\nmoved by the coincidence, he let her go free.  So Rose spent her\njubilee out of prison.\n\nIt is a wonder that the dreadful, drunken, reckless, dissipated life\nshe lived did not hurry her to an early grave; it did affect her\nreason, and for three weeks she was locked up in Lancaster Lunatic\nAsylum, having really gone mad through drink and sin.\n\nIn evidence of her reckless nature, it is said that after her second\nimprisonment she vowed she would never again walk to the police\nstation; consequently, when in her wild orgies the police found it\nnecessary to arrest her, they had to get her to the police station as\nbest they could, sometimes by requisitioning a wheelbarrow or a cart,\nor the use of a stretcher, and sometimes they had to carry her right\nout.  On one occasion, towards the close of her career, when driven to\nthe last-named method, four policemen were carrying her to the station,\nand she was extra violent, screaming, plunging and biting, when, either\nby accident or design, one of the policemen let go of her head, and it\ncame in contact with the curbstone, causing the blood to pour forth in\na stream.  As soon as they placed her in the cell the poor creature\ncaught the blood in her hands, and literally washed her face with it.\nOn the following morning she presented a pitiable sight, and before\ntaking her into the court the police wanted to wash her, but she\ndeclared she would draw any man's blood who attempted to put a finger\nupon her; they had spilt her blood, and she would carry it into the\ncourt as a witness against them.  On coming out of gaol for the last\ntime, she met with a few Salvationists beating the drum and singing\n\"Oh! the Lamb, the bleeding Lamb; He was found worthy.\"  Rose, struck\nwith the song, and impressed with the very faces of the people,\nfollowed them, saying to herself, \"I never before heard anything like\nthat, or seen such happy looking people.\"  She came into the Barracks;\nher heart was broken; she found her way to the Penitent Form, and\nChrist, with His own precious blood, washed her sins away.  She arose\nfrom her knees and said to the Captain, \"It is all right now.\"\n\nThree months after her conversion a great meeting was held in the\nlargest hall in the town, where she was known to almost every inhabitant.\nThere were about three thousand people present.  Rose was called upon\nto give her testimony to the power of God to save.  A more enthusiastic\nwave of sympathy never greeted any speaker than that which met her from\nthat crowd, every one of whom was familiar with her past history.\nAfter a few broken words, in which she spoke of the wonderful change\nthat had taken place, a cousin, who, like herself, had lived a\nnotoriously evil life, came to the Cross.\n\nRose is now War Cry sergeant.  She goes into the brothels and\ngin palaces and other haunts of vice, from which she was rescued,\nand sells more papers than any other Soldier.\n\nThe Superintendent of Police, soon after her conversion, told the\nCaptain at the Corps that in rescuing Rose a more wonderful work had\nbeen done than he had seen in all the years gone by.\n\nS. was a native of Lancashire, the son of poor, but pious, parents.\nHe was saved when sixteen years of age.  He was first an Evangelist,\nthen a City Missionary for five or six years, and afterwards a Baptist\nMinister.  He then fell under the influence of drink, resigned,\nand became a commercial traveller, but lost his berth through drink.\nHe was then an insurance agent, and rose to be superintendent, but was\nagain dismissed through drink.  During his drunken career he had\ndelirium tremens four times, attempted suicide three times, sold up six\nhomes, was in the workhouse with his wife and family three times.\nHis last contrivance for getting drink was to preach mock sermons,\nand offer mock prayers in the tap-rooms.\n\nAfter one of these blasphemous performances in a public-house, on the\nwords, \"Are you Saved?\" he was challenged to go to the Salvation\nBarracks.  He went, and the Captain, who knew him well, at once made\nfor him, to plead for his soul, but S. knocked him down, and rushed\nback to the public-house for more drink.  He was, however, so moved by\nwhat he had heard that he was unable to raise the liquor to his mouth,\nalthough he made three attempts.  He again returned to the meeting,\nand again quitted it for the public-house.  He could not rest, and for\nthe third time he returned to the Barracks.  As he entered the last\ntime the Soldiers were singing: --\n\n \"Depth of mercy, can there be\n Mercy still reserved for me?\n Can my God his wrath forbear?\n Me, the chief of Sinners, spare?\n\nThis song impressed him still further; he wept, and remained in the\nBarracks under deep conviction until midnight.  He was drunk all the\nnext day, vainly trying to drown his convictions.  The Captain visited\nhim at night, but was quickly thrust out of the house.  He was there\nagain next morning, and prayed and talked with S. for nearly two hours.\nPoor S. was in despair.  He persisted that there was no mercy for him.\nAfter a long struggle, however, hope sprung up, he fell upon his knees,\nconfessed his sins, and obtained forgiveness.\n\nWhen this happened, his furniture consisted of a soap-box for a table,\nand starch boxes for chairs.  His wife, himself, and three children,\nhad not slept in a bed for three years.  He has now a happy family,\na comfortable home, and has been the means of leading numbers of other\nslaves of sin to the Saviour, and to a truly happy life.\n\nSimilar cases, describing the deliverance of drunkards from the bondage\nof strong drink, could be produced indefinitely.  There are Officers\nmarching in our ranks to-day, who where once gripped by this fiendish\nfascination, who have had their fetters broken, and are now free men in\nthe Army.  Still the mighty torrent of Alcohol, fed by ten thousand\nmanufactories, sweeps on, bearing with it, I have no hesitation in\nsaying, the foulest, bloodiest tide that ever flowed from earth to\neternity.  The Church of the living God ought not--and to say nothing\nabout religion, the people who have any humanity ought not, to rest\nwithout doing something desperate to rescue this half of a million who\nare in the eddying maelstrom.  We purpose, therefore, the taking away\nof the people from the temptation which they cannot resist.  We would\nto God that the temptation could be taken away from them, that every\nhouse licensed to send forth the black streams of bitter death were\nclosed, and closed for ever.  But this will not be, we fear, for the\npresent at least.\n\nWhile in one case drunkenness may be resolved into a habit, in another\nit must be accounted a disease.  What is wanted in the one case,\ntherefore, is some method of removing the man out of the sphere of the\ntemptation, and in the other for treating the passion as a disease,\nas we should any other physical affection, bringing to bear upon it\nevery agency, hygienic and otherwise, calculated to effect a cure.\n\nThe Dalrymple Homes, in which, on the order of a magistrate and by\ntheir own consent, Inebriates can be confined for a time, have been a\npartial success in dealing with this class in both these respects;\nbut they are admittedly too expensive to be of any service to the poor.\nIt could never be hoped that working people of themselves, or with the\nassistance of their friends, would be able to pay two pounds a week for\nthe privilege of being removed away from the licensed temptations to\ndrink which surround them at every step.  Moreover, could they obtain\nadmission they would feel themselves anything but at ease amongst the\nclass who avail themselves of these institutions.  We propose to\nestablish Homes which will contemplate the deliverance, not of ones and\ntwos, but of multitudes, and which will be accessible to the poor,\nor to persons of any class choosing to use them.  This is our national\nvice, and it demands nothing short of a national remedy--anyway,\none of proportions large enough to be counted national.\n\n1.  To begin with, there will be City Homes, into which a man can be\n    taken, watched over, kept out of the way of temptation, and if\n    possible delivered from the power of this dreadful habit.\n\nIn some cases persons would be taken in who are engaged in business in\nthe City in the day, being accompanied by an attendant to and from the\nHome.  In this case, of course, adequate remuneration for this extra\ncare would be required.\n\n2.  Country Homes, which we shall conduct on the Dalrymple principle;\n    that is, taking persons for compulsory confinement, they binding\n    themselves by a bond confirmed by a magistrate that they would\n    remain for a certain period.  The general regulations for both\n    establishments would be something as follows: --\n\n (1). There would be only one class in each establishment.  If it was\n      found that the rich and the poor did not work comfortably\n      together, separate institutions must be provided.\n (2). All would alike have to engage in some remunerative form of\n      employment.  Outdoor work would be preferred, but indoor\n      employment would be arranged for those for whom it was most\n      suitable, and in such weather and at such times of the year when\n      garden work was impracticable.\n (3). A charge of 10s. per week would be made.  This could be\n      remitted when there was no ability to pay it.\n\nThe usefulness of such Homes is too evident to need any discussion.\nThere is one class of unfortunate creatures who must be objects of pity\nto all who have any knowledge of their existence, and that is, those\nmen and women who are being continually dragged before the magistrates,\nof whom we are constantly reading in the police reports, whose lives\nare spent in and out of prison, at an enormous cost to the country,\nand without any benefit to themselves.\n\nWe should then be able to deal with this class.  It would be possible\nfor a magistrate, instead of sentencing the poor wrecks of humanity to\nthe sixty-fourth and one hundred and twentieth term of imprisonment,\nto send them to this Institution, by simply remanding them to come up\nfor sentence when called for.  How much cheaper such an arrangement\nwould be for the country!\n\n\nSECTION 5.--A NEW WAY OF ESCAPE FOR LOST WOMEN.  THE RESCUE HOMES.\n\nPerhaps there is no evil more destructive of the best interests of\nSociety, or confessedly more difficult to deal with remedially,\nthan that which is known as the Social Evil.  We have already seen\nsomething of the extent to which this terrible scourge has grown,\nand the alarming manner in which it affects our modern civilisation.\n\nWe have already made an attempt at grappling with this evil, having\nabout thirteen Homes in Great Britain, accommodating 307 girls under\nthe charge of 132 Officers, together with seventeen Homes abroad,\nopen for the same purpose.  The whole, although a small affair compared\nwith the vastness of the necessity, nevertheless constitutes perhaps\nthe largest and most efficient effort of its character in the world.\n\nIt is difficult to estimate the results that have been already\nrealised.  By our varied operations, apart from these Homes, probably\nhundreds, if not thousands, have been delivered from lives of shame and\nmisery.  We have no exact return of the number who have gone through\nthe Homes abroad, but in connection with the work in this country,\nabout 3,000 have been rescued, and are living lives of virtue.\n\nThis success has not only been gratifying on account of the blessing it\nhas brought these young women, the gladness it has introduced to the\nhomes to which they have been restored, and the benefit it has bestowed\nupon Society, but because it has assured us that much greater results\nof the same character may be realised by operations conducted on a\nlarger scale, and under more favourable circumstances.\n\nWith this view we propose to remodel and greatly increase the number of\nour Homes both in London and the provinces, establishing one in every\ngreat centre of this infamous traffic.\n\nTo make them very largely Receiving Houses, where the girls will be\ninitiated into the system of reformation, tested as to the reality of\ntheir desires for deliverance, and started forward on the highway of\ntruth, virtue, and religion.\n\nFrom these Homes large numbers, as at present, would be restored to\ntheir friends and relatives, while some would be detained in training\nfor domestic service, and others passed on to the Farm Colony.\n\nOn the Farm they would be engaged in various occupations.\nIn the Factory, at Bookbinding and Weaving; in the Garden and\nGlasshouses amongst fruit and flowers; in the Dairy, making butter;\nin all cases going through a course of House-work which will fit them\nfor domestic service.\n\nAt every stage the same process of moral and religious training,\non which we specially rely, will be carried forward.\n\nThere would probably be a considerable amount of inter-marriage amongst\nthe Colonists, and in this way a number of these girl's would be\nabsorbed into Society.\n\nA large number would be sent abroad as domestic servants.  In Canada,\nthe girls are taken out of the Rescue Homes as servants, with no other\nreference than is gained by a few weeks' residence there, and are paid\nas much as #3 a month wages.  The scarcity of domestic servants in the\nAustralian Colonies, Western States of America, Africa, and elsewhere\nis well known.  And we have no doubt that on all hands our girls with\n12 months' character will be welcomed, the question of outfit and\npassage-money being easily arranged for by the persons requiring their\nservices advancing the amount, with an understanding that it is to be\ndeducted out of their first earnings.\n\nThen we have the Colony Over-Sea, which will require the service of a\nlarge number.  Very few families will go out who will not be very glad\nto take a young woman with them, not as a menial servant, but as a\ncompanion and friend.\n\nBy this method we should be able to carry out Rescue work on a much\nlarger scale.  At present two difficulties very largely block our way.\nOne is the costliness of the work.  The expense of rescuing a girl on\nthe present plan cannot be much less than #7; that is, if we include\nthe cost of those with whom we fail, and on whom the money is largely\nthrown away.  Seven pounds is certainly not a very large sum for the\nmeasure of benefit bestowed upon the girl by bringing her off the\nstreets, and that which is bestowed on Society by removing her from her\nevil course.  Still, when the work runs into thousands of individuals,\nthe amount required becomes considerable.  On the plan proposed we\ncalculate that from the date of their reaching the Farm Colony they\nwill earn nearly all that is required for their support.\n\nThe next difficulty which hinders our expansion in this department is\nthe want of suitable and permanent situations, Although we have been\nmarvellously successful so far, having at this hour probably 1,200\ngirls in domestic service alone, still the difficulty in this respect\nis great.  Families are naturally shy at receiving these poor\nunfortunates when they can secure the help they need combined with\nunblemished character; and we cannot blame them.\n\nThen, again, it can easily be understood that the monotony of domestic\nservice in this country is not altogether congenial to the tastes of\nmany of these girls, who have been accustomed to a life of excitement\nand freedom.  This can be easily understood.  To be shut up seven days\na week with little or no intercourse, either with friends or with the\noutside world, beyond that which comes of the weekly Church service or\n\"night out\" with nowhere to go, as many of them are tied off from the\nSalvation Army Meetings, becomes very monotonous, and in hours of\ndepression it is not to be wondered at if a few break down in their\nresolutions, and fall back into their old ways.\n\nOn the plan we propose there is something to cheer these girls forward.\nLife on the farm will be attractive.  From there they can go to a new\ncountry and begin the world afresh, with the possibility of being\nmarried and having a little home of their own some day.  With such\nprospects, we think, they will be much more likely to fight their way\nthrough seasons of darkness and temptation than as at present.\n\nThis plan will also make the task of rescuing the girls much more\nagreeable to the Officers engaged in it.  They will have this future to\ndwell upon as an encouragement to persevere with the girls, and will be\nspared one element at least in the regret they experience, when a girl\nfalls back into old habits, namely, that she earned the principal part\nof the money that has been expended upon her.\n\nThat girls can be rescued and blessedly saved even now, despite all\ntheir surroundings, we have many remarkable proofs.  Of these take one\nor two as examples: --\n\nJ. W. was brought by our Officers from a neighbourhood which has,\nby reason of the atrocities perpetrated in it, obtained an unenviable\nrenown, even among similar districts of equally bad character.\n\nShe was only nineteen.  A country girl.  She had begun the struggle for\nlife early as a worker in a large laundry, and at thirteen years of age\nwas led away by an inhuman brute.  The first false step taken,\nher course on the downward road was rapid, and growing restless and\nanxious for more scope than that afforded in a country town, she came\nup to London.\n\nFor some time she lived the life of extravagance and show, known to\nmany of this class for a short time--having plenty of money,\nfine clothes, and luxurious surroundings until the terrible disease\nseized her poor body, and she soon found herself deserted, homeless and\nfriendless, an outcast of Society.\n\nWhen we found her she was hard and impenitent, difficult to reach even\nwith the hand of love; but love won, and since that time she has been\nin two or three situations, a consistent Soldier of an Army corps,\nand a champion War Cry seller.\n\nA TICKET-OF-LEAVE WOMAN.\n\nA. B. was the child of respectable working people--Roman Catholics--\nbut was early left an orphan.  She fell in with bad companions,\nand became addicted to drink, going from bad to worse until\ndrunkenness, robbery, and harlotry brought her to the lowest depths.\nShe passed seven years in prison, and after the last offence was\ndischarged with seven years' police supervision.  Failing to report\nherself, she was brought before the bench.\n\nThe magistrate inquired whether she had ever had a chance in a Home of\nany kind.  \"She is too old, no one will take her,\" was the reply,\nbut a Detective present, knowing a little about the Salvation Army,\nstepped forward and explained to the magistrate th at he did not think\nthe Salvation Army refused any who applied.  She was formally handed\nover to us in a deplorable condition, her clothing the scantiest and\ndirtiest.  For over three years she has given evidence of a genuine\nreformation, during which time she has industriously earned her own\nliving.\n\nA WILD WOMAN.\n\nIn visiting a slum in a town in the North of England, our Officers\nentered a hole, unfit to be called a human habitation--more like the\nden of some wild animal--almost the only furniture of which was a\nfilthy iron bedstead, a wooden box to serve for table and chair,\nwhile an old tin did duty as a dustbin.\n\nThe inhabitant of this wretched den was a poor woman, who fled into the\ndarkest corner of the place as our Officer entered.  This poor wretch\nwas the victim of a brutal man, who never allowed her to venture\noutside the door, keeping her alive by the scantiest allowance of food.\nHer only clothing consisted of a sack tied round her body.  Her feet\nwere bare, her hair matted and foul, presenting on the whole such an\nobject as one could scarcely imagine living in a civilised country.\n\nShe had left a respectable home, forsaken her husband and family,\nand sunk so low that the man who then claimed her boasted to the\nOfficer that he had bettered her condition by taking her off the\nstreets.\n\nWe took the poor creature away, washed and clothed her; and, changed in\nheart and life, she is one more added to the number of those who rise\nup to bless the Salvation Army workers.\n\n\nSECTION 6.--A PREVENTIVE HOME FOR UNFALLEN GIRLS WHEN IN DANGER.\n\nThere is a story told likely enough to be true about a young girl who\napplied one evening for admission to some home established for the\npurpose of rescuing fallen women.  The matron naturally inquired\nwhether she had forfeited her virtue; the girl replied in the negative.\nShe had been kept from that infamy, but she was poor and friendless,\nand wanted somewhere to lay her head until she could secure work,\nand obtain a home.  The matron must have pitied her, but she could not\nhelp her as she did not belong to the class for whose benefit the\nInstitution was intended.  The girl pleaded, but the matron could not\nalter the rule, and dare not break it, they were so pressed to find\nroom for their own poor unfortunates, and she could not receive her.\nThe poor girl left the door reluctantly but returned in a very short\ntime, and said, \"I am fallen now, will you take me in?\"\n\nI am somewhat slow to credit this incident; anyway it is true in\nspirit, and illustrates the fact that while there are homes to which\nany poor, ruined, degraded harlot can run for shelter, there is only\nhere and there a corner to which a poor friendless, moneyless,\nhomeless, but unfallen girl can fly for shelter from the storm which\nbids fair to sweep her away whether she will or no into the deadly\nvortex of ruin which gapes beneath her.\n\nIn London and all our large towns there must be a considerable number\nof poor girls who from various causes are suddenly plunged into this\nforlorn condition; a quarrel with the mistress and sudden discharge,\na long bout of disease and dismissal penniless from the hospital,\na robbery of a purse, having to wait for a situation until the last\npenny is spent, and many other causes will leave a girl an almost\nhopeless prey to the linx-eyed villains who are ever watching to take\nadvantage of innocence when in danger.  Then, again, what a number\nthere must be in a great city like London who are ever faced with the\nalternative of being turned out of doors if they refuse to submit\nthemselves to the infamous overtures of those around them.\nI understand that the Society for the Protection of Children prosecuted\nlast year a fabulous number of fathers for unnatural sins with their\nchildren.  If so many were brought to justice, how many were there of\nwhom the world never heard in any shape or form?  We have only to\nimagine how many a poor girl is, faced with the terrible alternative of\nbeing driven literally into the streets by employers or relatives or\nothers in whose power she is unfortunately placed.\n\nNow, we want a real home for such--a house to which any girl can fly\nat any hour of the day or night, and be taken in, cared for, shielded\nfrom the enemy, and helped into circumstances of safety.\n\nThe Refuge we propose will be very much on the same principle as the\nHomes for the Destitute already described.  We should accept any girls,\nsay from fourteen years of age, who were without visible means of\nsupport, but who were willing to work, and to conform to discipline.\nThere would be various forms of labour provided, such as laundry work,\nsewing, knitting by machines, &c.  Every beneficial influence within\nour power would be brought to bear on the rectification and formation\nof character.  Continued efforts would be made to secure situations\naccording to the adaptation of the girls, to restore wanderers to their\nhomes, and otherwise provide for all.  From this, as with the other\nHomes, there will be a way made to the Farm and to the Colony over the\nsea.  The institutions would be multiplied as we had means and found\nthem to be necessary, and made self-supporting as far as possible.\n\n\nSECTION 7.--ENQUIRY OFFICE FOR LOST PEOPLE.\n\nPerhaps nothing more vividly suggests the varied forms of\nbroken-hearted misery in the great City than the statement that 18,000\npeople are lost in it every year, of whom 9,000 are never heard of any\nmore, anyway in this world.  What is true about London is, we suppose,\ntrue in about the same proportion of the rest of the country.\nHusbands, sons, daughters, and mothers are continually disappearing,\nand leaving no trace behind.\n\nIn such cases, where the relations are of some importance in the world,\nthey may interest the police authorities sufficiently to make some\nenquiries in this country, which, however, are not often successful;\nor where they can afford to spend large sums of money, they can fall\nback upon the private detective, who will continue these enquiries,\nnot only at home but abroad.\n\nBut where the relations of the missing individual are in humble\ncircumstances, they are absolutely powerless, in nine cases out of ten,\nto effectually prosecute any search at all that is likely to be\nsuccessful.\n\nTake, for instance, a cottager in a village, whose daughter leaves for\nservice in a big town or city.  Shortly afterwards a letter arrives\ninforming her parents of the satisfactory character of her place.\nThe mistress is kind, the work easy, and she likes her fellow servants.\nShe is going to chapel or church, and the family are pleased.  Letters\ncontinue to arrive of the same purport, but, at length, they suddenly\ncease.  Full of concern, the mother writes to know the reason, but no\nanswer comes back, and after a time the letters are returned with\n\"gone, no address,\" written on the envelope.  The mother writes to the\nmistress, or the father journeys to the city, but no further\ninformation can be obtained beyond the fact that \"the girl has\nconducted herself somewhat mysteriously of late; had ceased to be as\ncareful at her work; had been noticed to be keeping company with some\nyoung man; had given notice and disappeared altogether.\"\n\nNow, what can these poor people do?  They apply to the police, but they\ncan do nothing.  Perhaps they ask the clergyman of the parish, who is\nequally helpless, and there is nothing for them but for the father to\nhang his head and the mother to cry her self to sleep--to long,\nand wait, and pray for information that perhaps never comes, and to\nfear the worst.\n\nNow, our Enquiry Department supplies a remedy for this state of things.\nIn such a case application would simply have to be made to the nearest\nSalvation Army Officer--probably in her own village, any way, in the\nnearest town--who would instruct the parents to write to the Chief\nOffice in London, sending portraits and all particulars.  Enquiries\nwould at once be set on foot, which would very possibly end in the\nrestoration of the girl.\n\nThe achievements of this Department, which has only been in operation\nfor a short time, and that on a limited scale, as a branch of Rescue\nWork, have been marvellous.  No more romantic stories can be found in\nthe pages of our most imaginative writers than those it records.\nWe give three or four illustrative cases of recent date.\n\nA LOST HUSBAND.\n\nENQUIRY.\n\nMrs. S., of New Town, Leeds, wrote to say that ROBERT R. left England\nin July 1889, for Canada to improve his position.  He left a wife and\nfour little children behind, and on leaving said that if he were\nsuccessful out there he should send for them, but if not he should\nreturn.\n\nAs he was unsuccessful, he left Montreal in the Dominion Liner\n\"Oregon,\" on October 30th, but except receiving a card from him ere he\nstarted, the wife and friends had heard no more of him from that day\ntill the date they wrote us.\n\nThey had written to the \"Dominion\" Company, who replied that \"he landed\nat Liverpool all right,\" so, thinking he had disappeared upon his\narrival, they put the matter in the hands of the Liverpool Police, who,\nafter having the case in hand for several weeks made the usual report\n--\"Cannot be traced.\"\n\nRESULT.\n\nWe at once commenced looking for some passenger who had come over by\nthe same steamer, and after the lapse of a little time we succeeded in\ngetting hold of one.\n\nIn our first interview with him we learned that Robert R. did not land\nat Liverpool, but when suffering from depression threw himself\noverboard three days after leaving America, and was drowned.\nWe further elicited that upon his death the sailors rifled his clothes\nand boxes, and partitioned them.\n\nWe wrote the Company reporting this, and they promised to make\nenquiries and amends, but as too often happens, upon making report of\nthe same to the family they took the matter into their own hands,\ndealt with the Company direct, and in all probability thereby lost a\ngood sum in compensation which we should probably have obtained for\nthem.\n\n\nA LOST WIFE.\n\nENQUIRY.\n\nF. J. L. asked us to seek for his wife, who left him on November 4th,\n1888.  He feared she had gone to live an immoral life; gave us two\naddresses at which she might possibly be heard of, and a description.\nThey had three children.\n\nRESULT.\n\nEnquiries at the addresses given elicited no information, but from\nobservation in the neighbourhood the woman's whereabouts was\ndiscovered.\n\nAfter some difficulty our Officer obtained an interview with the woman,\nwho was greatly astonished at our having discovered her.  She was dealt\nwith faithfully and firmly:  the plain truth of God set before her,\nand was covered with shame and remorse, and promised to return.\n\nWe communicated with Mr. L. A few days after he wrote that he had\nbeen telegraphed for, had forgiven his wife, and that they were\nre-united.\n\nSoon afterwards she wrote expressing her deep gratitude to\nMrs. Bramwell Booth for the trouble taken in her case.\n\n\nA LOST CHILD.\n\nENQUIRY.\n\nALICE P. was stolen away from home by Gypsies ten years ago, and now\nlongs to find her parents to be restored to them.  She believes her\nhome to be in Yorkshire.  The Police had this case in hand for some\ntime, but failed entirely.\n\nRESULT.\n\nWith these particulars we advertised in the \"War Cry.\"  Captain Green,\nseeing the advertisement, wrote, April 3rd, from 3, C. S., M. H.,\nthat her Lieutenant knew a family of the name advertised for, living at\nGomersal, Leeds.\n\nWe, on the 4th, wrote to this address for confirmation.\n\nApril 6th, we heard from Mr. P---, that this lass is his child, and he\nwrites full of gratitude and joy, saying he will send money for her to\ngo home We, meanwhile, get from the Police, who had long sought this\ngirl, a full description and photo, which we sent to Captain Cutmore;\nand on April 9th, she wrote us to the effect that the girl exactly\nanswered the description.  We got from the parents 15/- for the fare,\nand Alice was once more restored to her parents.  Praise God.\n\n\nA LOST DAUGHTER.\n\nENQUIRY.\n\nE. W. Age 17.  Application from this girl's mother and brother, who\nhad lost all trace of her since July, 1885, when she left for Canada.\nLetters had been once or twice received, dated from Montreal, but they\nstopped.  A photo., full description, and handwriting were supplied.\n\nRESULT.\n\nWe discovered that some kind Church people here had helped E. W. to\nemigrate, but they had no information as to her movements after\nlanding.\n\nFull particulars, with photo., were sent to our Officers in Canada.\nThe girl was not found in Montreal.  The information was then sent to\nOfficers in other towns in that part of the Colony.\n\nThe enquiry was continued through some months; and, finally, through\nour Major of Division, the girl was reported to us as having been\nrecognised in one of our Barracks and identified.  When suddenly called\nby her own name, she nearly fainted with agitation.\n\nShe was in a condition of terrible poverty and shame, but at once\nconsented, on hearing of her mother's enquiries, to go into one of our\nCanadian Rescue Homes.  She is now doing well.  Her mother's joy may be\nimagined.\n\n\nA LOST SERVANT.\n\nENQUIRY.\n\nMrs. M., Clevedon, one of Harriett P.'s old mistresses, wrote us, in\ndeep concern, about this girl.  She said she was a good servant, but\nwas ruined by the young man who courted her, and had since had three\nchildren.  Occasionally, she would have a few bright and happy weeks,\nbut would again lapse into the \"vile path.\"\n\nMrs. M. tells us that Harriett had good parents, who are dead, but\nshe still has a respectable brother in Hampshire.  The last she heard\nof her was that some weeks ago she was staying at a Girl's Shelter at\nBristol, but had since left, and nothing more had been heard of her.\n\nThe enquirer requested us to find her, and in much faith added,\n\"I believe you are the only people who, if successful in tracing her,\ncan rescue and do her a permanent good.\"\n\nRESULT.\n\nWe at once set enquiries on foot, and in the space of a few days found\nthat she had started from Bristol on the road for Bath.  Following her\nup we found that at a little place called Bridlington, on the way to\nBath, she had met a man, of whom she enquired her way.  He hearing a\nbit of her story, after taking her to a public-house, prevailed upon\nher to go home and live with him, as he had lost his wife.\n\nIt was at this stage that we came upon the scene, and having dealt with\nthem both upon the matter, got her to consent to come away if the man\nwould not marry her, giving him two days to make up his mind.\n\nThe two days' respite having expired and, he being unwilling to\nundertake matrimony, we brought her away, and sent her to one of our\nHomes, where she is enjoying peace and penitence.\n\nWhen we informed the mistress and brother of the success, they were\ngreatly rejoiced and overwhelmed us with thanks.\n\n\nA LOST HUSBAND.\n\nIn a seaside home last Christmas there was a sorrowing wife, who\nmourned over the basest desertion of her husband.  Wandering from place\nto place drinking, he had left her to struggle alone with four little\nones dependent upon her exertions.\n\nKnowing her distress, the captain of the corps wrote begging us to\nadvertise for the man in the Cry.  We did this, but for some time heard\nnothing of the result.\n\nSeveral weeks later a Salvationist entered a beer-house, where a group\nof men were drinking, and began to distribute War Crys amongst them,\nspeaking here and there upon the eternity which faced everyone.\n\nAt the counter stood a man with a pint pot in hand, who took one of the\npapers passed to him, and glancing carelessly down its columns caught\nsight of his own name, and was so startled that the pot fell from his\ngrasp to the floor.  \"Come home,\" the paragraph ran, \"and all will be\nforgiven.\"\n\nHis sin faced him; the thought of a broken-hearted wife and starving\nchildren conquered him completely, and there and then he left the\npublic-house, and started to walk home--a distance of many mile--\narriving there about midnight the same night, after an absence of\neleven months.\n\nThe letter from his wife telling the good news of his return, spoke\nalso of his determination by God's help to be a different man, and they\nare both attendants at the Salvation Army barracks.\n\n\nA SEDUCER COMPELLED TO PAY.\n\nAmongst the letters that came to the Inquiry Office one morning was one\nfrom a girl who asked us to help her to trace the father of her child\nwho had for some time ceased to pay anything towards its support.\nThe case had been brought into the Police Court, and judgment given in\nher favour, but the guilty one had hidden, and his father refused to\nreveal his whereabouts.\n\nWe called upon the elder man and laid the matter before him, but failed\nto prevail upon him either to pay his son's liabilities or to put us\ninto communication with him.  The answers to an advertisement in the\nWar Cry, however, had brought the required in formation as to his son's\nwhereabouts, and the same morning that our Inquiry Officer communicated\nwith the police, and served a summons for the overdue money, the young\nman had also received a letter from his father advising him to leave\nthe country at once.  He had given notice to his employers; and the #16\nsalary he received, with some help his father had sent him towards the\njourney, he was compelled to hand over to the mother of his child.\n\n\nFOUND IN THE BUSH.\n\nA year or two ago a respectable-looking Dutch girl might have been seem\nmaking her way quickly and stealthily across a stretch of long rank\ngrass towards the shelter of some woods on the banks of a distant\nriver.  Behind her lay the South African town from which she had come,\nbetrayed, disgraced, ejected from her home with words of bitter scorn,\nhaving no longer a friend in the wide world who would hold out to her a\nhand of help.  What could there be better for her than to plunge into\nthat river yonder, and end this life--no matter what should come\nafter the plunge?  But Greetah feared the \"future,\" and turned aside to\nspend the night in darkness, wretched and alone.\n\nSeven years had passed.  An English traveller making his way through\nSouthern Africa halted for the Sabbath at a little village on his\nroute.  A ramble through the woods brought him unexpectedly in front of\na kraal, at the door of which squatted all old Hottentot, with a fair\nwhite-faced Child playing on the ground near by.  Glad to accept the\nproffered shelter of the hut from the burning sun, the traveller\nentered, and was greatly astonished to find within a young white girl,\nevidently the mother of the frolicsome child.  Full of pity for the\nstrange pair, and especially for the girl, who wore an air of\nrefinement little to be expected in this out-of-the-world spot, he sat\ndown on the earthen floor, and told them of the wonderful Salvation of\nGod.  This was Greetah, and the Englishman would have given a great\ndeal if he could have rescued her from this miserable lot.  But this\nwas impossible, and with reluctance he bid her farewell.\n\nIt was an English home.  By a glowing fire one night a man sat alone,\nand in his imaginings there came up the vision of the girl he had met\nin the Hottentot's Kraal, and wondering whether any way of rescue was\npossible.  Then he remembered reading, since his return, the following\nparagraph in the War Cry: --\n\n\"TO THE DISTRESSED.  The Salvation Army invite parents, relations,\nand friends in any part of the world interested in any woman or girl\nwho is known, or feared to be, living in immorality, or is in danger\nof coming under the control of immoral persons, to write, stating full\nparticulars, with names, dates, and address of all concerned, and,\nif possible, a photograph of the person in who the interest is taken.\n\n\"All letters, whether from these persons or from such women or girls\nthemselves, will be regarded as strictly confidential.  They maybe\nwritten in any language, and should be addressed to Mrs. Bramwell\nBooth, 101, Queen Victoria Street, London, E.C.\"  \"It will do no harm to\ntry, anyhow,\" exclaimed he, \"the thing haunts me as it is,\" and without\nfurther delay he penned an account of his African adventure, as full as\npossible.  The next African mail carried instructions to the Officer in\nCommand of our South African work.\n\nShortly after, one of our Salvation Riders was exploring the bush, and\nafter some difficulty the kraal was discovered the girl was rescued and\nsaved.  The Hottentot was converted afterwards, and both are now\nSalvation Soldiers.\n\nApart from the independent agencies employed to prosecute this class of\nenquiries, which it is proposed to very largely increase, the Army\npossesses in itself peculiar advantages for this kind of investigation.\nThe mode of operation is as follows: --\n\nThere is a Head Centre under the direction of a capable Officer and\nassistants, to which particulars of lost husbands, sons, daughters,\nand wives, as the case may be, are forwarded.  These are advertised,\nexcept when deemed inadvisable, in the English \"War Cry,\" with its\n300,000 circulation, and from it copied into the twenty-three other\n\"War Crys\" published in different parts of the world.  Specially\nprepared information in each case is sent to the local Officers of the\nArmy when that is thought wise, or Special Enquiry Officers trained to\ntheir work are immediately set to work to follow up any clue which has\nbeen given by enquiring relations or friends.\n\nEvery one of its 10,000 Officers, nay, almost every soldier in its\nranks, scattered, as they are, through every quarter of the globe, may\nbe regarded as an Agent.  A small charge for enquiries is made, and,\nwhere persons are able, all the costs of the investigation will he\ndefrayed by them.\n\n\nSECTION 8.--REFUGES FOR THE CHILDREN OF THE STREETS.\n\nFor the waifs and strays of the streets of London much commiseration is\nexpressed, and far more pity is deserved than is bestowed.  We have no\ndirect purpose of entering on a crusade on their behalf, apart from our\nattempt at changing the hearts and lives and improving the\ncircumstances of their parents.\n\nOur main hope for these wild, youthful, outcasts lies in this\ndirection.  If we can reach and benefit their guardians, morally and\nmaterially, we shall take the most effectual road to benefit the\nchildren themselves.\n\nStill, a number of them will unavoidably be forced upon us; and we\nshall be quite prepared to accept the responsibility of dealing with\nthem, calculating that our organisation will enable us to do so,\nnot only with facility and efficiency, but with trifling cost to the\npublic\n\nTo begin with, Children's Creches or Children's Day Homes would be\nestablished in the centres of every poor population, where for a small\ncharge babies and young children can be taken care of in the day while\nthe mothers are at work, instead of being left to the dangers of the\nthoroughfares or the almost greater peril of being burnt to death in\ntheir own miserable homes.\n\nBy this plan we shall not only be able to benefit the poor children,\nif in no other direction than that of soap and water and a little\nwholesome food, but exercise some humanising influence upon the mothers\nthemselves.\n\nOn the Farm Colony, we should be able to deal with the infants from the\nUnions and other quarters.  Our Cottage mothers, with two or three\nchildren of their own, would readily take in an extra one on the usual\nterms of boarding out children, and nothing would be more simple or\neasy for us than to set apart some trustworthy experienced dame to make\na constant inspection as to whether the children placed out were\nenjoying the necessary conditions of health and general well-being.\nHere would be a Baby Farm carried on with the most favourable\nsurroundings.\n\n\nSECTION 9.--INDUSTRIAL SCHOOLS.\n\nI also propose, at the earliest opportunity, to give the subject of the\nindustrial training of boys a fair trial; and, if successful, follow it\non with a similar one for girls.  I am nearly satisfied in my own mind\nthat the children of the streets taken, say at eight years of age,\nand kept till, say twenty-one, would, by judicious management and the\nutilisation of their strength and capacity, amply supply all their own\nwants, and would, I think, be likely to turn out thoroughly good and\ncapable members of the community.\n\nApart from the mere benevolent aspect of the question, the present\nsystem of teaching is, to my mind, unnatural, and shamefully wasteful\nof the energies of the children.  Fully one-half the time that boys and\ngirls are compelled to sit in school is spent to little or no purpose\n--nay, it is worse than wasted.  The minds of the children are only\ncapable of useful application for so many consecutive minutes,\nand hence the rational method must be to apportion the time of the\nchildren; say, half the morning's work to be given to their books,\nand the other half to some industrial employment; the garden would be\nmost natural and healthy in fair weather, while the workshop should be\nfallen back upon when unfavourable.\n\nBy this method health would be promoted, school would be loved,\nthe cost of education would be cheapened, and the natural bent of the\nchild's capacities would be discovered and could be cultivated.\nInstead of coming out of school, or going away from apprenticeship,\nwith the most precious part of life for ever gone so far as learning\nis concerned, chained to some pursuit for which there is no\npredilection, and which promises nothing higher than mediocrity if not\nfailure--the work for which the mind was peculiarly adapted and for\nwhich, therefore, it would have a natural capacity, would not only have\nbeen discovered, but the bent of the inclination cultivated, and the\nlife's work chosen accordingly.\n\n\nIt is not for me to attempt any reform of our School system on this\nmodel.  But I do think that I may be allowed to test the theory by its\npractical working in an Industrial School in connection with the Farm\nColony.  I should begin probably with children selected for their\ngoodness and capacity, with a view to imparting a superior education,\nthus fitting them for the position of Officers in all parts of the\nworld, with the special object of raising up a body of men thoroughly\ntrained and educated, among other things, to carry out all the branches\nof the Social work that are set forth in this book, and it may be to\ninstruct other nations in the same.\n\n\nSECTION 10.--ASYLUMS FOR MORAL LUNATICS.\n\nThere will remain, after all has been said and done, one problem that\nhas yet to be faced.  You may minimise the difficulty every way,\nand it is your duty to do so, but no amount of hopefulness can make us\nblink the fact that when all has been done and every chance has been\noffered, when you have forgiven your brother not only seven times but\nseventy times seven, when you have fished him up from the mire and put\nhim on firm ground only to see him relapse and again relapse until you\nhave no strength left to pull him out once more, there will still\nremain a residuum of men and women who have, whether from heredity or\ncustom, or hopeless demoralisation, become reprobates.  After a certain\ntime, some men of science hold that persistence in habits tends to\nconvert a man from a being with freedom of action and will into a mere\nautomaton.  There are some cases within our knowledge which seem to\nconfirm the somewhat dreadful verdict by which a man appears to be a\nlost soul on this side of the grave.\n\nThere are men so incorrigibly lazy that no inducement that you can\noffer will tempt them to work; so eaten up by vice that virtue is\nabhorrent to them, and so inveterately dishonest that theft is to them\na master passion.  When a human being has reached that stage, there is\nonly one course that can be rationally pursued.  Sorrowfully, but\nremorselessly, it must be recognised that he has become lunatic,\nmorally demented, incapable of self-government, and that upon him,\ntherefore, must be passed the sentence of permanent seclusion from a\nworld in which he is not fit to be at large.  The ultimate destiny of\nthese poor wretches should be a penal settlement where they could be\nconfined during Her Majesty's pleasure as are the criminal lunatics at\nBroadmoor.  It is a crime against the race to allow those who are so\ninveterately depraved the freedom to wander abroad, infect their\nfellows, prey upon Society, and to multiply their kind.  Whatever else\nSociety may do, and suffer to be done, this thing it ought not to\nallow, any  more than it should allow the free perambulation of a mad\ndog.  But before we come to this I would have every possible means\ntried to effect their reclamation.  Let Justice punish them, and Mercy\nput her arms around them; let them be appealed to by penalty and by\nreason, and by every influence, human and Divine, that can possibly be\nbrought to bear upon them.  Then, if all alike failed, their ability to\nfurther curse their fellows and themselves should be stayed.\n\nThey will still remain objects worthy of infinite compassion.\nThey should lead as human a life as is possible to those who have\nfallen under so terrible a judgment.  They should have their own little\ncottages in their own little gardens, under the blue sky, and, if\npossible, amid the green fields.  I would deny them none of the\nadvantages, moral, mental, and religious which might minister to their\ndiseased minds, and tend to restore them to a better state.  Not until\nthe breath leaves their bodies should we cease to labour and wrestle\nfor their salvation.  But when they have reached a certain point access\nto their fellow men should be forbidden.  Between them and the wide\nworld there should be reared an impassable barrier, which once passed\nshould be recrossed no more for ever.  Such a course must be wiser than\nallowing them to go in and out among their fellows, carrying with them\nthe contagion of moral leprosy, and multiplying a progeny doomed before\nits birth to inherit the vices and diseased cravings of their unhappy\nparents.  To these proposals three leading objections will probably be\nraised\n\n1. It may be said that to shut out men and women from that liberty\n   which is their universal birthright would be cruel.\n\nTo this it might be sufficient to reply that this is already done;\ntwenty years' immurement is a very common sentence passed upon\nwrong-doers, and in some cases the law goes as far as to inflict penal\nservitude for life.  But we say further that it would be far more\nmerciful treatment than that which is dealt out to them at present,\nand it would be far more likely to secure a pleasant existence.\nKnowing their fate they would soon become resigned to it.\nHabits of industry, sobriety, and kindness with them would create a\nrestfulness of spirit which goes far on in the direction of happiness,\nand if religion were added it would make that happiness complete.\nThere might be set continually before them a large measure of freedom\nand more frequent intercourse with the world in the shape of\ncorrespondence, newspapers, and even occasional interviews with\nrelatives, as rewards for well-doing.  And in sickness and old age\ntheir latter days might be closed in comfort.  In fact, so far as this\nclass of people were concerned, we can see that they would be far\nbetter circumstanced for happiness in this life and in the life to come\nthan in their present liberty--if a life spent alternatively in\ndrunkenness, debauchery, and crime, on the one hand, or the prison on\nthe other, can be called liberty.\n\n2. It may be said that the carrying out of such a suggestion would be\n   too expensive.\n\nTo this we reply that it would have to be very costly to exceed the\nexpense in which all such characters involve the nation under the\npresent regulations of vice and crime.  But there is no need for any\ngreat expense, seeing that after the first outlay the inmates of such\nan institution, if it were fixed upon the land, would readily earn all\nthat would be required for their support.\n\n3. But it may be said that this is impossible.\n\nIt would certainly be impossible other than as a State regulation.\nBut it would surely be a very simple matter to enact a law which should\ndecree that after an individual had suffered a certain number of\nconvictions for crime, drunkenness, or vagrancy, he should forfeit his\nfreedom to roam abroad and curse his fellows.  When I include vagrancy\nin this list, I do it on the supposition that the opportunity and\nability for work are present.  Otherwise it seems to me most heartless\nto punish a hungry man who begs for food because he can in no other way\nobtain it.  But with the opportunity and ability for work I would count\nthe solicitation of charity a crime, and punish it as such.  Anyway, if\na man would not work of his own free will I would compel him.\n\n\nCHAPTER 6.  ASSISTANCE IN GENERAL.\n\nThere are many who are not lost, who need help.  A little assistance\ngiven to-day will perhaps prevent the need of having to save them\nto-morrow.  There are some, who, after they have been rescued,\nwill still need a friendly hand.  The very service which we have\nrendered them at starting makes it obligatory upon us to finish the\ngood work.  Hitherto it may be objected that the Scheme has dealt\nalmost exclusively with those who are more or less disreputable and\ndesperate.  This was inevitable.  We obey our Divine Master and seek to\nsave those who are lost.  But because, as I said at the beginning,\nurgency is claimed rightly for those who have no helper, we do not,\ntherefore, forget the needs and the aspirations of the decent working\npeople who are poor indeed, but who keep their feet, who have not\nfallen, and who help themselves and help each other.  They constitute\nthe bulk of the nation.  There is an uppercrust and a submerged tenth.\nBut the hardworking poor people, who earn a pound a week or less,\nconstitute in every land the majority of the population.  We cannot\nforget them, for we are at home with them.  We belong to them and many\nthousands of them belong to us.  We are always studying how to help\nthem, and we think this can be done in many ways, some of which I\nproceed to describe.\n\n\nSECTION 1.--IMPROVED LODGINGS.\n\nThe necessity for a superior class of lodgings for the poor men rescued\nat our Shelters has been forcing itself already upon our notice,\nand demanding attention.  One of the first things that happens when a\nman, lifted out of the gutter, has obtained a situation, and is earning\na decent livelihood, is for him to want some better accommodation than\nthat afforded at the Shelters.  We have some hundreds on our hands now\nwho can afford to pay for greater comfort and seclusion.\nThese are continually saying to us something like the following: --\n\nThe Shelters are all very well when a man is down in his luck.\nThey have been a good thing for us; in fact, had it not been for them,\nwe would still have been without a friend, sleeping on the Embankment,\ngetting our living dishonestly, or not getting a living at all.\nWe have now got work, and want a bed to sleep on, and a room to\nourselves, and a box, or something where we can stow away our bits of\nthings.  Cannot you do something for us?\"  We have replied that there\nwere Lodging-houses elsewhere, which, now that they were in work,\nthey could afford to pay for, where they would obtain the comfort they\ndesired.  To this they answer, \"That is all very well.  We know there\nare these places, and that we could go to them.  But then,\" they said,\n\"you see, here in the Shelters are our mates, who think as we do.\nAnd there is the prayer, and the meeting, and kind influence every\nnight, that helps to keep us straight.  We would like a better place,\nbut if you cannot find us one we would rather stop in the Shelter and\nsleep on the floor, as we have been doing, than go to something more\ncomplete, get into bad company, and so fall back again to where we were\nbefore.\"\n\nBut this, although natural, is not desirable; for, if the process went\non, in course of time the whole of the Shelter Depots would be taken up\nby persons who had risen above the class for whom they were originally\ndestined.  I propose, therefore, to draft those who get on, but wish to\ncontinue in connection with the Army, into a superior lodging-house, a\nsort of POOR MAN'S METROPOLE, managed on the same principles, but with\nbetter accommodation in every way, which, I anticipate, would be\nself-supporting from the first.  In these homes there would be separate\ndormitories, good sitting-rooms, cooking conveniences, baths, a hall\nfor meetings, and many other comforts, of which all would have the\nbenefit at as low a figure above cost price as will not only pay\ninterest on the original outlay, but secure us against any shrinkage of\ncapital.\n\nSomething superior in this direction will also be required for the\nwomen.  Having begun, we must go on.  Hitherto I have proposed to deal\nonly with single men and single women, but one of the consequences of\ngetting hold of these men very soon makes itself felt.  Your ragged,\nhungry, destitute Out-of-Work in almost every case is married.\nWhen he comes to us he comes as single and is dealt with as such,\nbut after you rouse in him aspirations for better things he remembers\nthe wife whom he has probably enough deserted, or left from sheer\ninability to provide her anything to eat.  As soon as such a man finds\nhimself under good influence and fairly employed his first thought is\nto go and look after the \"Missis.\"  There is very little reality about\nany change of heart in a married man who does not thus turn in sympathy\nand longing towards his wife, and the more successful we are in dealing\nwith these people the more inevitable it is that we shall be confronted\nwith married couple's who in turn demand that we should provide for\nthem lodgings.  This we propose to do also on a commercial footing.\nI see greater developments in this direction, one of which will be\ndescribed in the chapter relating to Suburban Cottages.\nThe Model-lodging House for Married People is, however, one of\nthose things that must be provided as an adjunct of the Food and\nShelter Depots.\n\n\nSECTION 2.--MODEL SUBURBAN VILLAGES.\n\nAs I have repeatedly stated already, but will state once more, for it\nis important enough to bear endless repetition, one of the first steps\nwhich must inevitably be taken in the reformation of this class, is to\nmake for them decent, healthy, pleasant homes, or help them to make\nthem for themselves, which, if possible, is far better.  I do not regard\nthe institution of any first, second, or third-class lodging-houses as\naffording anything but palliatives of the existing distress.\nTo substitute life in a boarding-house for life in the streets is,\nno doubt, an immense advance, but it is by no means the ultimatum.\nLife in a boarding-house is better than the worst, but it is far from\nbeing the best form of human existence.  Hence, the object I constantly\nkeep in view is how to pilot those persons who have been set on their\nfeet again by means of the Food and Shelter Depots, and who have\nobtained employment in the City, into the possession of homes of their\nown.\n\nNeither can I regard the one, or at most two, rooms in which the large\nmajority of the inhabitants of our great cities are compelled to spend\ntheir days, as a solution of the question.  The overcrowding which fills\nevery separate room of a tenement with a human litter, and compels\nfamily life from the cradle to the grave to be lived within the four\nwalls of a single apartment, must go on reproducing in endless\nsuccession all the terrible evils which such a state of things must\ninevitably create.\n\nNeither can I be satisfied with the vast, unsightly piles of\nbarrack-like buildings, which are only a slight advance upon the\nUnion Bastille--dubbed Model Industrial Dwellings--so much in\nfashion at present, as being a satisfactory settlement of the burning\nquestion of the housing of the poor.  As a contribution to this\nquestion, I propose the establishment of a series of Industrial\nSettlements or Suburban Villages, lying out in the country, within a\nreasonable distance of all our great cities, composed of cottages of\nsuitable size and construction, and with all needful comfort and\naccommodation for the families of working-men, the rent of which,\ntogether with the railway fare, and other economic conveniences,\nshould be within the reach of a family of moderate income.\n\nThis proposal lies slightly apart from the scope of this book,\notherwise I should be disposed to elaborate the project at greater\nlength.  I may say, however, that what I here propose has been carefully\nthought out, and is of a perfectly practical character.\nIn the planning of it I have received some valuable assistance from a\nfriend who has had considerable experience in the building trade,\nand he stakes his professional reputation on its feasibility.\nThe following, however, may be taken as a rough outline: --\n\nThe Village should not be more than twelve miles from town; should be\nin a dry and healthy situation, and on a line of railway.  It is not\nabsolutely necessary that it should be near a station, seeing that the\ncompany would, for their own interests, immediately erect one.\n\nThe Cottages should be built of the best material and workmanship.\nThis would be effected most satisfactorily by securing a contract for\nthe labour only, the projectors of the Scheme purchasing the materials\nand supplying them direct from the manufacturers to the builders.\nThe cottages would consist of three or four rooms, with a scullery,\nand out-building in the garden.  The cottages should be built in\nterraces, each having a good garden attached.  Arrangements should be\nmade for the erection of from one thousand to two thousand houses at\nthe onset.  In the Village a Co-operative Goods Store should be\nestablished, supplying everything that was really necessary for the\nvillagers at the most economic prices.  The sale of intoxicating drink\nshould be strictly forbidden on the Estate, and, if possible,\nthe landowner from whom the land is obtained should be tied off from\nallowing any licences to be held on any other portion of the adjoining\nland.  It is thought that the Railway Company, in consideration of the\ninconvenience and suffering they have inflicted on the poor,\nand in their own interests, might be induced to make the following\nadvantageous arrangements: --\n\n(1) The conveyance of each member actually living in the village to and\n    from London at the rate of sixpence per week.  Each pass should\n    have on it the portrait of the owner, and be fastened to some\n    article of the dress, and be available only by Workmen's Trains\n    running early and late and during certain hours of the day, when\n    the trains are almost empty.\n\n(2) The conveyance of goods and parcels should be at half the ordinary\n    rates.  It is reasonable to suppose that large landowners would\n    gladly give one hundred acres of land in view of the immensely\n    advanced values of the surrounding property which would immediately\n    follow, seeing that the erection of one thousand or two thousand\n    cottages would constitute the nucleus of a much larger Settlement.\n\nLastly, the rent of a four-roomed cottage must not exceed 3s. per week.\nAdd to this the sixpenny ticket to and from London, and you have 3s. 6d.\nand if the company should insist on 1s., it will make 4s., for which\nthere would be all the advantages of a comfortable cottage--of which\nit would be possible for the tenant to become the owner--a good garden,\npleasant surroundings, and other influences promotive of the health\nand happiness of the family.  It is hardly necessary to remark that\nin connection with this Village there will be perfect freedom of\nopinion on all matters.  A glance at the ordinary homes of the poor\npeople of this great City will at once assure us that such a village\nwould be a veritable Paradise to them, and that were four, five,\nor six settlements provided at once they would not contain a tithe of\nthe people who would throng to occupy them.\n\n\nSECTION 3.--THE POOR MAN'S BANK.\n\nIf the love of money is the root of all evil, the want of money is the\ncause of an immensity of evil and trouble.  The moment you begin\npractically to alleviate the miseries of the people, you discover that\nthe eternal want of pence is one of their greatest difficulties.\nIn my most sanguine moments I have never dreamed of smoothing this\ndifficulty out of the lot of man, but it is surely no unattainable\nideal to establish a Poor Man's Bank, which will extend to the lower\nmiddle class and the working population the advantages of the credit\nsystem, which is the very foundation of our boasted commerce.\n\nIt might be better that there should be no such thing as credit,\nthat no one should lend money, and that everyone should be compelled to\nrely solely upon whatever ready money he may possess from day to day.\nBut if so, let us apply the principle all round; do not let us glory in\nour world-wide commerce and boast ourselves in our riches, obtained,\nin so many cases, by the ignoring of this principle.  If it is right\nfor a great merchant to have dealings with his banker, if it is\nindispensable for the due carrying on of the business of the rich men\nthat they should have at their elbow a credit system which will from\ntime to time accommodate them with needful advances and enable them to\nstand up against the pressure of sudden demands, which otherwise would\nwreck them, then surely the case is still stronger for providing a\nsimilar resource for the smaller men, the weaker men.  At present\nSociety is organised far too much on the principle of giving to him who\nhath so that he shall have more abundantly, and taking away from him\nwho hath not even that which he hath.\n\nIf we are to really benefit the poor, we can only do so by practical\nmeasures.  We have merely to look round and see the kind of advantages\nwhich wealthy men find indispensable for the due management of their\nbusiness, and ask ourselves whether poor men cannot be supplied with\nthe same opportunities.  The reason why they are not is obvious.\nTo supply the needs of the rich is a means of making yourself rich;\nto supply the needs of the poor will involve you in trouble so out of\nproportion to the profit that the game may not be worth the candle.\nMen go into banking and other businesses for the sake of obtaining what\nthe American humourist said was the chief end of man in these modern\ntimes, namely, \"ten per cent.\"  To obtain a ten per cent. what will not\nmen do?  They will penetrate the bowels of the earth, explore the depths\nof the sea, ascend the snow-capped mountain's highest peak, or navigate\nthe air, if they can be guaranteed a ten per cent.  I do not venture to\nsuggest that the business of a Poor Man's Bank would yield ten per cent.,\nor even five, but I think it might be made to pay its expenses,\nand the resulting gain to the community would be enormous.\n\nAsk any merchant in your acquaintance where his business would be if\nhe had no banker, and then, when you have his answer, ask yourself\nwhether it would not be an object worth taking some trouble to secure,\nto furnish the great mass of our fellow countrymen, on sound business\nprinciples with the advantages of the credit system, which is found to\nwork so beneficially for the \"well-to-do\" few.\n\nSome day I hope the State may be sufficiently enlightened to take up\nthis business itself; at present it is left in the hands of the\npawnbroker and the loan agency, and a set of sharks, who cruelly prey\nupon the interests of the poor.  The establishment of land banks,\nwhere the poor man is almost always a peasant, has been one of the\nfeatures of modern legislation in Russia, Germany, and elsewhere.\nThe institution of a Poor Man's Bank will be, I hope, before long,\none of the recognised objects of our own government.\n\nPending that I venture to throw out a suggestion, without in any way\npledging myself to add this branch of activity to the already gigantic\nrange of operations foreshadowed in this book--Would it not be\npossible for some philanthropists with capital to establish on clearly\ndefined principles a Poor Man's Bank for the making of small loans on\ngood security, or making advances to those who are in danger of being\noverwhelmed by sudden financial pressure--in fact, for doing for the\n\"little man\" what all the banks do for the \"big man\"?  Meanwhile,\nshould it enter into the heart of some benevolently disposed possessor\nof wealth to give the price of a racehorse, or of an \"old master,\"\nto form the nucleus of the necessary capital, I will certainly\nexperiment in this direction.\n\nI can anticipate the sneer of the cynic who scoffs at what he calls my\nglorified pawnshop.  I am indifferent to his sneers.  A Mont de Piete--\nthe very name (Mount of Piety) shows that the Poor Man's Bank is\nregarded as anything but an objectionable institution across the\nChannel--might be an excellent institution in England.  Owing,\nhowever, to the vested interests of the existing traders it might be\nimpossible for the State to establish it, excepting at a ruinous\nexpense.  There would be no difficulty, however, of instituting a\nprivate Mont de Piete, which would confer an incalculable boon upon the\nstruggling poor.\n\nFurther, I am by no means indisposed to recognise the necessity of\ndealing with this subject in connection with the Labour Bureau,\nprovided that one clearly recognised principle can be acted upon.\nThat principle is that a man shall be free to bind himself as security\nfor the repayment of a loan, that is to pledge himself to work for his\nrations until such time as he has repaid capital and interest.\nAn illustration or two will explain what I mean.  Here is a carpenter\nwho comes to our Labour shed; he is an honest, decent man, who has by\nsickness or some other calamity been reduced to destitution.  He has by\ndegrees pawned one article after another to keep body and soul\ntogether, until at last he has been compelled to pawn his tools.\nWe register him, and an employer comes along who wants a carpenter whom\nwe can recommend.  We at once suggest this man, but then arises this\ndifficulty.  He has no tools; what are we to do?  As things are at\npresent, the man loses the job and continues on our hands.  Obviously\nit is most desirable in the interest of the community that the man\nshould get his tools out of pawn; but who is to take the responsibility\nof advancing the money to redeem them?  This difficulty might be met,\nI think, by the man entering into a legal undertaking to make over his\nwages to us, or such proportion of them as would be convenient to his\ncircumstances, we in return undertaking to find him in food and shelter\nuntil such time as he has repaid the advance made.  That obligation it\nwould be the truest kindness to enforce with Rhadamantine severity.\nUntil the man is out of debt he is not his own master.  All that he can\nmake over his actual rations and Shelter money should belong to his\ncreditor.  Of course such an arrangement might be varied indefinitely\nby private agreement; the repayment of instalments could be spread ever\na longer or shorter time, but the mainstay of the whole principle would\nbe the execution of a legal agreement by which the man makes over the\nwhole product of his labour to the Bank until he has repaid, his debt.\n\nTake another instance.  A clerk who has been many years in a situation\nand has a large family, which he has brought up respectably and\neducated.  He has every prospect of retiring in a few years upon a\nsuperannuating allowance, but is suddenly confronted by a claim often\nthrough no fault of his own, of a sum of fifty or a hundred pounds,\nwhich is quite beyond his means.  He has been a careful saving man,\nwho has never borrowed a penny in his life, and does not know where to\nturn in his emergency.  If he can not raise this money he will be sold\nup, his family will be scattered, his situation and his prospective\npension will be lost, and blank ruin will stare him in the face.\nNow, were he in receipt of an income of ten times the amount, he would\nprobably have a banking account, and, in consequence, be able to secure\nan advance of all he needed from his banker.  Why should he not be able\nto pledge his salary, or a portion of it, to an Institution which would\nenable him to pay off his debt, on terms that, while sufficiently\nremunerative to the bank, would not unduly embarrass him?\n\nAt present what does the poor wretch do?  He consults his friends, who,\nit is quite possible, are as hard up as himself, or he applies to some\nloan agency, and as likely as not falls into the hands of sharpers,\nwho indeed, let him have the money, but at interest altogether out of\nproportion to the risk which they run, and use the advantage which\ntheir position gives them to extort every penny he has.  A great black\nbook written within and without in letters of lamentation, mourning,\nand woe might be written on the dealings of these usurers with their\nvictims in every land.\n\nIt is of little service denouncing these extortioners.  They have always\nexisted, and probably always will; but what we can do is to\ncircumscribe the range of their operations and the number of their\nvictims.  This can only be done by a legitimate and merciful provision\nfor these poor creatures in their hours of desperate need, so as to\nprevent their falling into the hands of these remorseless wretches,\nwho have wrecked the fortunes of thousands, and driven many a decent\nman to suicide or a premature grave.\n\nThere are endless ramifications of this principle, which do not need to\nbe described here, but before leaving the subject I may allude to an\nevil which is a cruel reality, alas! to a multitude of unfortunate men\nand women.  I refer to the working of the Hire System.  The decent poor\nman or woman who is anxious to earn an honest penny by the use of,\nit may be a mangle, or a sewing-machine, a lathe, or some other\nindispensable instrument, and is without the few pounds necessary to\nbuy it, must take it on the Hire System--that is to say, for the\naccommodation of being allowed to pay for the machine by instalments--\nhe is charged, in addition to the full market value of his purchase,\nten or twenty times the amount of what would be a fair rate of\ninterest, and more than this if he should at any time, through\nmisfortune, fail in his payment, the total amount already paid will be\nconfiscated, the machine seized, and the money lost.\n\nHere again we fall back on our analogy of what goes on in a small\ncommunity where neighbours know each other.  Take, for instance, when a\nlad who is recognised as bright, promising, honest, and industrious,\nwho wants to make a start in life which requires some little outlay,\nhis better-to-do neighbour will often assist him by providing the\ncapital necessary to enable him to make a way for himself in the world.\nThe neighbour does this because he knows the lad, because the family is\nat least related by ties of neighbourhood, and the honour of the lad's\nfamily is a security upon which a man may safely advance a small sum.\nAll this would equally apply to a destitute widow, an artizan suddenly\nthrown out of work, an orphan family, or the like.  In the large City\nall this kindly helpfulness disappears, and with it go all those small\nacts of service which are, as it were, the buffers which save men from\nbeing crushed to death against the iron walls of circumstances.  We must\ntry to replace them in some way or other if we are to get back, not to\nthe Garden of Eden, but to the ordinary conditions of life, as they\nexist in a healthy, small community.  No institution, it is true,\ncan ever replace the magic bond of personal friendship, but if we have\nthe whole mass of Society permeated in every direction by brotherly\nassociations established for the purpose of mutual help and\nsympathising counsel, it is not an impossible thing to believe that we\nshall be able to do something to restore the missing element in modern\ncivilisation.\n\n\nSECTION 4.--THE POOR MAN'S LAWYER.\n\nThe moment you set about dealing with the wants of the people,\nyou discover that many of their difficulties are not material,\nbut moral.  There never was a greater mistake than to imagine that you\nhave only to fill a man's stomach, and clothe his back in order to\nsecure his happiness.  Man is, much more than a digestive apparatus,\nliable to get out of order.  Hence, while it is important to remember\nthat man has a stomach, it is also necessary to bear in mind that he\nhas a heart, and a mind that is frequently sorely troubled by\ndifficulties which, if he lived in a friendly world, would often\ndisappear.  A man, and still more a woman, stands often quite as much\nin need of a trusted adviser as he or she does of a dinner or a dress.\nMany a poor soul is miserable all the day long, and gets dragged down\ndeeper and deeper into the depths of sin and sorrow and despair for\nwant of a sympathising friend, who can give her advice, and make her\nfeel that somebody in the world cares for her, and will help her if\nthey can.\n\nIf we are to bring back the sense of brotherhood to the world,\nwe must confront this difficulty.  God, it was said in old time,\nsetteth the desolate in families; but somehow, in our time,\nthe desolate wander alone in the midst of a careless and unsympathising\nworld.  \"There is no-one who cares for my soul.  There is no creature\nloves me, and if I die no one will pity me,\" is surely one of the\nbitterest cries that can burst from a breaking heart.  One of the\nsecrets of the success of the Salvation Army is, that the friendless of\nthe world find friends in it.  There is not one sinner in the world--\nno matter how degraded and dirty he may be--whom my people will not\nrejoice to take by the hand and pray with, and labour for, if thereby\nthey can but snatch him as a brand from the burning.  Now, we want to\nmake more use of this, to make the Salvation Army the nucleus of a\ngreat agency for bringing comfort and counsel to those who are at their\nwits' end, feeling as if in the whole world there was no one to whom\nthey could go.\n\nWhat we want to do is to exemplify to the world the family idea.\n\"Our Father\" is the keynote.  One is Our Father, then all we are\nbrethren.  But in a family, if anyone is troubled in mind or\nconscience, there is no difficulty.  The daughter goes to her father,\nor the son to his mother, and pour out their soul's troubles, and are\nrelieved.  If there is any serious difficulty a family council is held,\nand all unite their will and their resources to get matters put\nstraight.  This is what we mean to try to get done in the New\nOrganisation of Society for which we are labouring.  We cannot know\nbetter than God Almighty what will do good to man.  We are content to\nfollow on His lines, and to mend the world we shall seek to restore\nsomething of the family idea to the many hundreds of thousands--ay,\nmillions--who have no one wiser or more experienced than themselves,\nto whom they can take their sorrows, or consult in their difficulties.\n\nOf course we can do this but imperfectly.  Only God can create a mother.\nBut Society needs a great deal of mothering, much more than it gets.\nAnd as a child needs a mother to run to in its difficulties and troubles,\nto whom it can let out its little heart in confidence, so men and\nwomen, weary and worn in the battles of life, need someone to whom they\ncan go when pressed down with a sense of wrongs suffered or done,\nknowing that their confidence will be preserved inviolate, and that\ntheir statements will be received with sympathy.  I propose to attempt\nto meet this want.  I shall establish a department, over which I shall\nplace the wisest, the pitifullest, and the most sagacious men and women\nwhom I can find on my staff, to whom all those in trouble and\nperplexity shall be invited to address themselves.  It is no use saying\nthat we love our fellow men unless we try to help them, and it is no\nuse pretending to sympathise with the heavy burdens which darken their\nlives unless we try to ease them and to lighten their existence.\n\nInsomuch as we have more practical experience of life than other men,\nby so much are we bound to help their inexperience, and share our\ntalents with them.  But if we believe they are our brothers, and that\nOne is our Father, even the God who will come to judge us hereafter for\nall the deeds that we have done in the body, then must we constitute,\nin some such imperfect way as is open to us, the parental office.\nWe must be willing to receive the outpourings of our struggling fellow\nmen, to listen to the long-buried secret that has troubled the human\nheart, and to welcome instead of repelling those who would obey the\nApostolic precept:  \"To confess their sins one to another.\"  Let not\nthat word confession scandalise any.  Confession of the most open sort;\nconfession on the public platform before the presence of all the man's\nformer associates in sin has long been one of the most potent weapons\nby which the Salvation Army has won its victories.  That confession we\nhave long imposed on all our converts, and it is the only confession\nwhich seems to us to be a condition of Salvation.  But this suggestion\nis of a different kind.  It is not imposed as a means of grace.\nIt is not put forward as a preliminary to the absolution which no one\ncan pronounce but our Lord Himself.  It is merely a response on our\npart to one of the deepest needs and secret longings of the actual men\nand women who are meeting us daily in our work.  Why should they be\nleft to brood in misery over their secret sin, when a plain\nstraightforward talk with a man or woman selected for his or her\nsympathetic common-sense and spiritual experience might take the weight\noff their shoulders which is crushing them into dull despair?\n\nNot for absolution, but for sympathy and direction, do I propose to\nestablish my Advice Bureau in definite form, for in practice it has\nbeen in existence for some time, and wonderful things have been done\nin the direction on which I contemplate it working.  I have no pleasure\nin inventing these departments.  They all entail hard work and no end\nof anxiety.  But if we are to represent the love of God to men, we must\nminister to all the wants and needs of the human heart.  Nor is it only\nin affairs of the heart that this Advice Bureau will be of service. It\nwill be quite as useful in affairs of the head.  As I conceive it, the\nAdvice Bureau will be THE POOR MANS LAWYER AND THE POOR MANS TRIBUNE.\n\nThere are no means in London, so far as my knowledge goes, by which the\npoor and needy can obtain any legal assistance in the varied\noppressions and difficulties from which they must, in consequence of\ntheir poverty and associations, be continually suffering.\n\nWhile the \"well-to-do\" classes can fall back upon skilful friends for\ndirection, or avail themselves of the learning and experience of the\nlegal profession, the poor man has literally no one qualified to\ncounsel him on such matters.  In cases of sickness he can apply to the\nparish doctor or the great hospital, and receive an odd word or two of\nadvice, with a bottle of physic which may or may not be of service.\nBut if his circumstances are sick, out of order, in danger of carrying\nhim to utter destitution, or to prison, or to the Union, he has no one\nto appeal to who has the willingness or the ability to help him.\n\nNow, we want to create a Court of Counsel or Appeal, to which anyone\nsuffering from imposition having to do with person, liberty, or\nproperty, or anything else of sufficient importance, can apply,\nand obtain not only advice, but practical assistance.\n\nAmong others for whom this Court would be devised is the\nshamefully-neglected class of Widows, of whom in the East of London\nthere are 6,000, mostly in very destitute circumstances.  In the whole\nof London there cannot be less than 20,000, and in England and Wales it\nis estimated there are 100,000, fifty thousand of whom are probably\npoor and friendless.\n\nThe treatment these poor people by the nation is a crying scandal.\nTake the case of the average widow, even when left in comfortable\ncircumstances.  She will often be launched into a sea of perplexity,\nalthough able to avail herself of the best advice.  But think of the\nmultitudes of poor women, who, when they close their husbands' eyes,\nlose the only friend who knows anything; about their circumstances.\nThere may be a trifle of money or a struggling business or a little\nincome connected with property or some other possession, all needing\nimmediate attention, and that of a skilful sort, in order to enable the\npoor creature to weather the storm and avoid the vortex of utter\ndestitution.\n\nAll we have said applies equally to orphans and friendless people\ngenerally.  Nothing, however, short of a national institution could\nmeet the necessities of all such cases.  But we can do something, and\nin matters already referred to, such as involve loss of property,\nmalicious prosecution, criminal and otherwise, we can render\nsubstantial assistance.\n\nIn carrying out this purpose it will be no part of our plan to\nencourage legal proceedings in others, or to have recourse to them\nourselves.  All resort to law would be avoided either in counsel or\npractice, unless absolutely necessary.  But where manifest injustice\nand wrong are perpetrated, and every other method of obtaining\nreparation fails, we shall avail ourselves of the assistance the Law\naffords.\n\nOur great hope of usefulness, however, in this Department lies in\nprevention, The knowledge that the oppressed poor have in us a friend\nable to speak for them will often prevent the injustice which cowardly\nand avaricious persons might otherwise inflict, and the same\nconsiderations may induce them to accord without compulsion the right\nof the weak and friendless.\n\nI also calculate upon a wide sphere of usefulness in the direction of\nfriendly arbitration and intervention.  There will be at least one\ndisinterested tribunal, however humble, to which business, domestic,\nor any other questions of a contentious and litigious nature can be\nreferred without involving any serious costs.\n\nThe following incidents have been gathered from operations already\nundertaken in this direction, and will explain and illustrate the kind\nof work we contemplate, and some of the benefits that may be expected\nto follow from it.\n\nAbout four years ago a young and delicate girl, the daughter of a\npilot, came to us in great distress.  Her story was that of thousands\nof others.  She had been betrayed by a man in a good position in the\nWest End, and was now the mother of an infant child.\n\nJust before her confinement her seducer had taken her to his solicitors\nand made her sign and swear an affidavit to the effect that he was not\nthe father of the then expected child.  Upon this he gave her a few\npounds in settlement of all claims upon him.  The poor thing was in\ngreat poverty and distress.  Through our solicitors, we immediately\nopened communications with the man, and after negotiations, he, to\navoid further proceedings, was compelled to secure by a deed a proper\nallowance to his unfortunate victim for the maintenance of her child.\n\nSHADOWED AND CAUGHT.\n\nA-- was induced to leave a comfortable home to become the governess of\nthe motherless children of Mr. G--, whom she found to be a kind and\nconsiderate employer.  After she had been in his service some little\ntime he proposed that she should take a trip to London.  To this she\nvery gladly consented, all the more so when he offered to take her\nhimself to a good appointment he had secured for her.  In London he\nseduced her, and kept her as his mistress until, tired of her,\nhe told her to go and do as \"other women did.\"\n\nInstead of descending to this infamy, she procured work, and so\nsupported herself and child in some degree of comfort, when he sought\nher out and again dragged her down.  Another child was born, and a\nsecond time he threw her up and left her to starve.  It was then she\napplied to our people.  We hunted up the man, followed him to the\ncountry, threatened him with public exposure, and forced from him the\npayment to his victim of #60 down, an allowance of #1 a week, and an\nInsurance Policy on his life for #450 in her favour.\n\n#60 FROM ITALY.\n\nC. was seduced by a young Italian of good position in society,\nwho promised to marry her, but a short time before the day fixed for\nthe ceremony he told her urgent business called him abroad.  He assured\nher he would return in two years and make her his wife.  He wrote\noccasionally, and at last broke her heart by sending the news of his\nmarriage to another, adding insult to injury by suggesting that she\nshould come and live with his wife as her maid, offering at the same\ntime to pay for the maintenance of the child till it was old enough to\nbe placed in charge of the captain of one of the vessels belonging to\nhis firm.\n\nNone of these promises were fulfilled, and C., with her mother's\nassistance, for a time managed to support herself and child; but the\nmother, worn out by age and trouble, could help her no longer,\nand the poor girl was driven to despair.  Her case was brought before\nus, and we at once set to work to assist her.  The Consul of the town\nwhere the seducer lived in style was communicated with.  Approaches\nwere made to the young man's father, who, to save the dishonour that\nwould follow exposure, paid over #60.  This helps to maintain the\nchild; and the girl is in domestic service and doing well.\n\nTHE HIRE SYSTEM.\n\nThe most cruel wrongs are frequently inflicted on the very poorest\npersons, in connection with this method of obtaining Furniture, Sewing\nMachines, Mangles, or other articles.  Caught by the lure of misleading\nadvertisements, the poor are induced to purchase articles to be paid\nfor by weekly or monthly instalments.  They struggle through half the\namount perhaps, at all manner of sacrifice, when some delay in the\npayment is made the occasion not only for seizing the goods, which they\nhave come to regard as their own, and on which their very existence\ndepends, but by availing themselves of some technical clause in the\nagreement, for robbing them in addition.  In such circumstances the\npoor things, being utterly friendless, have to submit to these infamous\nextortions without remedy.  Our Bureau will be open to all such.\n\nTALLYMEN, MONEY LENDERS, AND BILLS-OF-SALEMONGERS.\n\nHere again we have a class who prey upon the poverty of the people,\ninducing them to purchase things for which they have often no immediate\nuse--anyway for which there is no real necessity--by all manner of\nspecious promises as to easy terms of repayment. And once having got\ntheir dupes into their power they drag them down to misery, and very\noften utter temporal ruin; once in their net escape is exceedingly\ndifficult, if not impossible.  We propose  to help the poor victims by\nthis Scheme, as far as possible.\n\nOur Bureau, we expect will be of immense service to Clergymen Ministers\nof all denominations, District Visitors, Missionaries, and others who\nfreely mix among the poor, seeing that they must be frequently appealed\nto for legal advice, which they are quite unable to give, and equally\nat a loss to obtain.  We shall always be very glad to assist such.\n\nTHE DEFENCE OF UNDEFENDED PERSONS.\n\nThe conviction is gradually fixing itself upon the public mind that a\nnot inconsiderable number of innocent persons are from time to time\nconvicted of crimes and offences, the reason for which often is the\nmere inability to secure an efficient defence.  Although there are\nseveral societies in London and the country dealing with the criminal\nclasses, and more particularly with discharged prisoners, yet there\ndoes not appear to be one for the purpose of assisting unconvicted\nprisoners.  This work we propose boldly to take up.\n\nBy this and many other ways we shall help those charged with criminal\noffences, who, on a most careful enquiry, might reasonably be supposed\nto be innocent, but who, through want of means, are unable to obtain\nthe legal assistance, and produce the evidence necessary for an\nefficient defence.\n\nWe shall not pretend authoritatively to judge as to who is innocent or\nwho is guilty, but if after full explanation and enquiry the person\ncharged may reasonably be supposed to be innocent, and is not in a\nposition to defend himself, then we should feel free to advise such a\ncase, hoping thereby to save such person and his family and friends\nfrom much misery, and possibly from utter ruin.  Mr. Justice Field\nrecently remarked: --\n\n\"For a man to assist another man who was under a criminal charge was a\nhighly laudable and praiseworthy act.  If a man was without friends,\nand an Englishman came forward and legitimately, and for the purpose of\nhonestly assisting him with means to put before the Court his case,\nthat was a highly laudable and praiseworthy act, and he should be the\nlast man in the country to complain of any man for so doing.\"\n\nThese remarks are endorsed by most Judges and Magistrates, and our\nAdvice Bureau will give practical effect to them.\n\nIn every case an attempt will be made to secure, not only the outward\nreformation, but the actual regeneration of all whom we assist.\nSpecial attention, as has been described under the \"Criminal Reform\nDepartment,\" will be paid to first offenders.\n\nWe shall endeavour also to assist, as far as we have ability, the Wives\nand Children of persons who are undergoing sentences, by endeavouring\nto obtain for them employment, or otherwise rendering them help.\nHundreds of this class fall into the deepest distress and\ndemoralisation through want of friendly aid in the forlorn\ncircumstances in which they find themselves on the conviction of\nrelatives on whom they have been dependent for a livelihood,\nor for protection and direction in the ordinary affairs of life.\n\nThis Department will also be responsible for gathering intelligence,\nspreading information, and the general prosecution of such measures as\nare likely to lead to the much-needed beneficial changes in our Prison\nManagement.  In short, it will seek to become the true friend and\nsaviour of the Criminal Classes in general, and in doing so we shall\ndesire to act in harmony with the societies at present in existence,\nwho may be seeking for objects kindred to the Advice Bureau.\nWe pen the following list to give some idea of the topics on which the\nAdvice Bureau may be consulted: --\n\n Accidents, Claim for\n Administration of Estates\n Adulteration of Food and Drugs\n Agency, Questions of\n Agreements, Disputed\n Affiliation Cases\n Animals, Cruelty to\n Arrest, Wrongful\n Assault\n\n Bankruptcies\n Bills of Exchange\n Bills of Sale\n Bonds, Forfeited\n Breach of Promise\n\n Children, Cruelty to\n Children, Custody of\n Compensation for Injuries\n Compensation for Accident\n Compensation for Defamation\n Compensation for Loss of Employment, &c., &c.\n Confiscation by Landlords\n Contracts, Breach of\n Copyright, Infringement of\n County Court Cases\n\n Debts\n Distress, Illegal\n Divorce\n\n Ejectment Cases\n Employers Liability Act\n Executors, Duties of\n\n Factory Act, Breach of\n Fraud, Attempted\n\n Goodwill, Sale of\n Guarantee, Forfeited\n\n Heir-at-Law\n Husbands and Wives, Disputes of\n\n Imprisonment, False\n Infants, Custody of\n Intestacy, Cases of\n\n Judgment Summonses\n\n Landlord and Tenant Cases\n Leases, Lapses and Renewals of\n Legacies, Disputed\n Libel Cases\n Licences\n\n Marriage Law, Question of the\n Masters' and Servants' Acts\n Meeting, Right of Public\n Mortgages\n\n Negligence, Alleged\n Next of Kill Wanted\n Nuisances, Alleged\n\n Partnership, The Law of\n Patents, Registration and Infringement of\n Pawnbrokers and their Pledges\n Police Cases\n Probate\n\n Rates and Taxes\n Reversionary Interests\n\n Seduction, Cases of\n Servants' Wrongful Dismissal\n Sheriffs\n Sureties Estreated\n\n Tenancies, Disputed\n Trade Marks, Infringement of\n Trespass, Cases of\n Trustees and Trusts\n\n Wages Kept Back\n Wills, Disputed and Unproved\n Women, Cruelty to\n Workmen, Grievances of &c.,&c.\n\nThe Advice Bureau will therefore be, first of all, a place where men\nand women in trouble can come when they please to communicate in\nconfidence the cause of their anxiety, with a certainty that they will\nreceive a sympathetic hearing and the best advice.\n\nSecondly, it will be a Poor Man's Lawyer, giving the best legal counsel\nas to the course to be pursued in the various circumstances with which\nthe poor find themselves confronted.\n\nThirdly, it will act as a Poor Man's Tribune, and will undertake the\ndefence of friendless prisoners supposed to be innocent, together with\nthe resistance of illegal extortions, and the prosecution of offenders\nwho refuse legal satisfaction for the wrongs they have committed.\n\nFourthly, it will act wherever it is called upon as a Court of\nArbitration between litigants, where the decision will be according to\nequity, and the costs cut down to the lowest possible figure.\nSuch a Department cannot be improvised; but it is already in a fair way\nof development, and it can hardly fail to do great good.\n\n\nSECTION 5.--OUR INTELLIGENCE DEPARTMENT.\n\nAn indispensable adjunct of this Scheme will be the institution of what\nmay be called an Intelligence Department at Headquarters.  Power, it\nhas been said, belongs to the best informed, and if we are effectually\nto deal with the forces of social evil, we must have ready at our\nfingers' ends the accumulated experience and information of the whole\nworld on this subject.  The collection of facts and the systematic\nrecord of them would be invaluable, rendering the result of the\nexperiments of previous generations available for the information of\nour own.\n\nAt the present there is no central institution, either governmental or\notherwise, in this country or any other, which charges itself with the\nduty of collecting and collating the ideas and conclusions on Social\nEconomy, so far as they are likely to help the solution of the problem\nwe have in hand.  The British Home Office has only begun to index its\nown papers.  The Local Government Board is in a similar condition, and,\nalthough each particular Blue Book may be admirably indexed, there is\nno classified index of the whole series.  If this is the case with the\nGovernment, it is not likely that the innumerable private organisations\nwhich are pecking here and there at the social question should possess\nany systematised method for the purpose of comparing notes and storing\ninformation.  This Intelligence Department, which I propose to found on\na small scale at first, will have in it the germ of vast extension\nwhich will, if adequately supported become a kind of University,\nin which the accumulated experiences of the human race will be massed,\ndigested, and rendered available to the humblest toiler in the great\nwork of social reform.  At the present moment, who is there that can\nproduce in any of our museums and universities as much as a classified\nindex of publications relating to one of the many heads under which I\nhave dealt with this subject?  Who is there among all our wise men and\nsocial reformers that can send me a list of all the best tracts upon--\nsay, the establishment of agricultural colonies or the experiments that\nhave been made in dealing with inebriates; or the best plans for the\nconstruction of a working man's cottage?\n\nFor the development of this Scheme I want an Office to begin with, in\nwhich, under the head of the varied subjects treated of in this volume,\nI may have arranged the condensed essence of all the best books that\nhave been written, and the names and addresses of those whose opinions\nare worth having upon them, together with a note of what those opinions\nare, and the results of experiments which have been made in relation to\nthem.  I want to establish a system which will enable me to use,\nnot only the eyes and hands of Salvation Officers, but of sympathetic\nfriends in all parts of the world, for purposes of noticing and\nreporting at once every social experiment of importance, any words of\nwisdom on the social question, whether it may be the breeding of\nrabbits, the organisation of an emigration service, the best method of\nconducting a Cottage Farm, or the best way of cooking potatoes.\nThere is nothing in the whole range of our operations upon which we\nshould not be accumulating and recording the results of human\nexperience.  What I want is to get the essence of wisdom which the\nwisest have gathered from the widest experience, rendered instantly\navailable for the humblest worker in the Salvation Factory or Farm\nColony, and for any other toiler in similar fields of social progress.\n\nIt can be done, and in the service of the people it ought to be done.\nI look for helpers in this department among those who hitherto may not\nhave cared for the Salvation Army, but who in the seclusion of their\nstudies and libraries will assist in the compiling of this great Index\nof Sociological Experiments, and who would be willing, in this form,\nto help in this Scheme, as Associates, for the ameliorating of the\ncondition of the people, if in nothing else than in using their eyes\nand ears, and giving me the benefit of their brains as to where\nknowledge lies, and how it can best be utilised.  I propose to make a\nbeginning by putting two capable men and a boy in an office, with\ninstructions to cut out, preserve, and verify all contemporary records\nin the daily and weekly press that have a bearing upon any branch of\nour departments.  Round these two men and a boy will grow up,\nI confidently believe, a vast organisation of zealous unpaid workers,\nwho will co-operate in making our Intelligence Department a great\nstorehouse of information--a universal library where any man may\nlearn what is the sum of human knowledge upon any branch of the subject\nwhich we have taken in hand.\n\n\nSECTION 6.--CO-OPERATION IN GENERAL.\n\nIf anyone asked me to state in one word what seemed likely to be the\nkey of the solution of the Social Problem I should answer\nunhesitatingly Co-operation.  It being always understood that it is\nCo-operation conducted on righteous principles, and for wise and\nbenevolent ends; otherwise Association cannot be expected to bear any\nmore profitable fruit than Individualism.  Co-operation is applied\nassociation--association for the purpose of production and\ndistribution.  Co-operation implies the voluntary combination of\nindividuals to the attaining an object by mutual help, mutual counsel,\nand mutual effort.  There is a great deal of idle talk in the world\njust now about capital, as if capital were the enemy of labour.\nIt is quite true that there are capitalists not a few who may be\nregarded as the enemies, not only of labour, but of the human race;\nbut capital itself, so far from being a natural enemy of labour,\nis the great object which the labourer has constantly in view.\nHowever much an agitator may denounce capital, his one great grievance\nis that he has not enough of it for himself.  Capital, therefore, is\nnot an evil in itself; on the contrary, it is good--so good that one\nof the great aims of the social reformer ought to be to facilitate its\nwidest possible distribution among his fellow-men.  It is the\ncongestion of capital that is evil, and the labour question will never\nbe finally solved until every labourer is his own capitalist.\n\nAll this is trite enough, and has been said a thousand times already,\nbut, unfortunately, with the saying of it the matter ends.\nCo-operation has been brought into practice in relation to distribution\nwith considerable success, but co-operation, as a means of production,\nhas not achieved anything like the success that was anticipated.\nAgain and again enterprises have been begun on co-operative principles\nwhich bid fair, in the opinion of the promoters, to succeed; but after\none, two, three, or ten years, the enterprise which was started with\nsuch high hopes has dwindled away into either total or partial failure.\nAt present, many co-operative undertakings are nothing more or less\nthan huge Joint Stock Limited Liability concerns, shares of which are\nheld largely by working people, but not necessarily, and sometimes not\nat all by those who are actually employed in the so-called co-operative\nbusiness.  Now, why is this?  Why do co-operative firms, co-operative\nfactories, and co-operative Utopias so very often come to grief?\nI believe the cause is an open secret, and can be discerned by anyone\nwho will look at the subject with an open eye.\n\nThe success of industrial concerns is largely a question of management.\nManagement signifies government, and government implies authority,\nand authority is the last thing which co-operators of the Utopian order\nare willing to recognise as an element essential to the success of\ntheir Schemes.  The co-operative institution which is governed on\nParliamentary principles, with unlimited right of debate and right of\nobstruction, will never be able to compete successfully with\ninstitutions which are directed by a single brain wielding the united\nresources of a disciplined and obedient army of workers.  Hence, to\nmake co-operation a success you must superadd to the principle of\nconsent the principle of authority; you must invest in those to whom\nyou entrust the management of your co-operative establishment the same\nliberty of action that is possessed by the owner of works on the other\nside of the repudiation of the rotten and effete regime of the\nBourbons, the French peasants and workmen imagined that they were\ninaugurating the millennium when they scrawled Liberty, Equality, and\nFraternity across all the churches in every city of France.\nThey carried their principles of freedom and license to the logical\nultimate, and attempted to manage their army on Parliamentary\nprinciples.  It did not work; their undisciplined levies were driven\nback; disorder reigned in the Republican camp; and the French\nRevolution would have been stifled in its cradle had not the instinct\nof the nation discerned in time the weak point in its armour.\nMenaced by foreign wars and intestine revolt, the Republic established\nan iron discipline in its army, and enforced obedience by the summary\nprocess of military execution.  The liberty and the enthusiasm\ndeveloped by the outburst of the long pent-up revolutionary forces\nsupplied the motive power, but it was the discipline of the\nrevolutionary armies, the stern, unbending obedience which was enforced\nin all ranks from the highest to the lowest, which created for Napoleon\nthe admirable military instrument by which he shattered every throne in\nEurope and swept in triumph from Paris to Moscow.\n\nIn industrial affairs we are very much like the French Republic before\nit tempered its doctrine of the rights of man by the duty of obedience\non the part of the soldier.  We have got to introduce discipline into\nthe industrial army, we have to superadd the principle of authority to\nthe principle of co-operation, and so to enable the worker to profit to\nthe full by the increased productiveness of the willing labour of men\nwho are employed in their own workshops and on their own property.\nThere is no need to clamour for great schemes of State Socialism.\nThe whole thing can be done simply, economically, and speedily if only\nthe workers will practice as much self-denial for the sake of\nestablishing themselves as capitalists, as the Soldiers of the\nSalvation Army practice every year in Self Denial Week.  What is the\nsense of never making a levy except during a strike?  Instead of calling\nfor a shilling, or two shillings, a week in order to maintain men who\nare starving in idleness because of a dispute with their masters,\nwhy should there not be a levy kept up for weeks or months, by the\nworkers, for the purpose of setting themselves up in business as\nmasters?  There would then be no longer a capitalist owner face to face\nwith the masses of the proletariat, but all the means of production,\nthe plant, and all the accumulated resources of capital would really be\nat the disposal of labour.  This will never be done, however, as long\nas co-operative experiments are carried on in the present archaic\nfashion.\n\nBelieving in co-operation as the ultimate solution, if to co-operation\nyou can add subordination, I am disposed to attempt something in this\ndirection in my new Social Scheme.  I shall endeavour to start a\nCo-operative Farm on the principles of Ralahine, and base the whole of\nmy Farm Colony on a Co-operative foundation.\n\nIn starting this little Co-operative Commonwealth, I am reminded by\nthose who are always at a man's elbow to fill him with forebodings of\nill, to look at the failures, which I have just referred to, which make\nup the history of the attempt to realise ideal commonwealths in this\npractical workaday world.  Now, I have read the history of the many\nattempts at co-operation that have been made to form communistic\nsettlements in the United States, and am perfectly familiar with the\nsorrowful fate with which nearly all have been overtaken; but the story\nof their failures does not deter me in the least, for I regard them as\nnothing more than warnings to avoid certain mistakes, beacons to\nillustrate the need of proceeding on a different tack.\nBroadly speaking, your experimental communities fail because your\nUtopias all start upon the system of equality and government by vote of\nthe majority, and, as a necessary and unavoidable consequence,\nyour Utopians get to loggerheads, and Utopia goes to smash, I shall\navoid that rock.  The Farm Colony, like all the other departments of\nthe Scheme, will be governed, not on the principle of counting noses,\nbut on the exactly opposite principle of admitting no noses into the\nconcern that are not willing to be guided by the directing brain.\nIt will be managed on principles which assert that the fittest ought to\nrule, and it will provide for the fittest being selected, and having\ngot them at the top, will insist on universal and unquestioning\nobedience from those at the bottom.  If anyone does not like to work\nfor his rations and submit to the orders of his superior Officers he\ncan leave.  There is no compulsion on him to stay.  The world is wide,\nand outside the confines of our Colony and the operations of our Corps\nmy authority does not extend.  But judging from our brief experience it\nis not from revolt against authority that the Scheme is destined to\nfail.\n\nThere cannot be a greater mistake in this world than to imagine that\nmen object to be governed.  They like to be governed, provided that the\ngovernor has his \"head screwed on right\" and that he is prompt to hear\nand ready to see and recognise all that is vital to the interests of\nthe commonwealth.  So far from there being an innate objection on the\npart of mankind to being governed, the instinct to obey is so universal\nthat even when governments have gone blind, and deaf, and paralytic,\nrotten with corruption, and hopelessly behind the times, they still\ncontrive to live on.  Against a capable Government no people ever\nrebel, only when stupidity and incapacity have taken possession of the\nseat of power do insurrections break out.\n\n\nSECTION 7.--A MATRIMONIAL BUREAU.\n\nThere is another direction in which something ought to be done to\nrestore the natural advantages enjoyed by every rural community which\nhave been destroyed by the increasing tendency of mankind to come\ntogether in huge masses.  I refer to that which is after all one of the\nmost important elements in every human life, that of marrying and\ngiving in marriage.  In the natural life of a country village all the\nlads and lasses grow up together, they meet together in religious\nassociations, in daily employments, and in their amusements on the\nvillage green.  They have learned their A, B, C and pothooks together,\nand when the time comes for pairing off they have had excellent\nopportunities of knowing the qualities and the defects of those whom\nthey select as their partners in life.  Everything in such a community\nlends itself naturally to the indispensable preliminaries of\nlove-making, and courtships, which, however much they may be laughed at,\ncontribute more than most things to the happiness or life.  But in a\ngreat city all this is destroyed.  In London at the present moment how\nmany hundreds, nay thousands, of young men and young women, who are\nliving in lodgings, are practically without any opportunity of making\nthe acquaintance of each other, or of any one of the other sex!\nThe street is no doubt the city substitute for the village green,\nand what a substitute it is!\n\nIt has been bitterly said by one who knew well what he was talking\nabout, \"There are thousands of young men to-day who have no right to\ncall any woman by her Christian name, except the girls they meet plying\ntheir dreadful trade in our public thoroughfares.\"  As long as that is\nthe case, vice has an enormous advantage over virtue; such an abnormal\nsocial arrangement interdicts morality and places a vast premium upon\nprostitution.  We must get back to nature if we have to cope with this\nghastly evil.  There ought to be more opportunities afforded for\nhealthy human intercourse between young men and young women, nor can\nSociety rid itself of a great responsibility for all the wrecks of\nmanhood and womanhood with which our streets are strewn, unless it does\nmake some attempt to bridge this hideous chasm which yawns between the\ntwo halves of humanity.  The older I grow the more absolutely am I\nopposed to anything that violates the fundamental law of the family.\nHumanity is composed of two sexes, and woe be to those who attempt to\nseparate them into distinct bodies, making of each half one whole!\nIt has been tried in monasteries and convents with but poor success,\nyet what our fervent Protestants do not seem to see is that we are\nreconstructing a similar false system for our young people without the\nsafeguards and the restraints of convent walls or the sanctifying\ninfluence of religious conviction.  The conditions of City life,\nthe absence of the enforced companionship of the village and small\ntown, the difficulty of young people finding harmless opportunities of\nfriendly intercourse, all tends to create classes of celibates who are\nnot chaste, and whose irregular and lawless indulgence of a universal\ninstinct is one of the most melancholy features of the present state of\nsociety.  Nay, so generally is this recognised, that one of the terms\nby which one of the consequences of this unnatural state of things is\npopularly known is \"the social evil,\" as if all other social evils were\ncomparatively unworthy of notice in comparison to this.\n\nWhile I have been busily occupied in working out my Scheme for the\nregistration of labour, it has occurred to me more than once, why could\nnot something like the same plan be adopted in relation to men who want\nwives and women who want husbands?  Marriage is with most people largely\na matter or opportunity.  Many a man and many a woman, who would,\nif they had come together, have formed a happy household, are leading\nat this moment miserable and solitary lives, suffering in body and in\nsoul, in consequence of their exclusion from the natural state of\nmatrimony.  Of course, the registration of the unmarried who wish to\nmarry would be a matter of much greater delicacy than the registration\nof the joiners and stone-masons who wish to obtain work.  But the thing\nis not impossible.  I have repeatedly found in my experience that many\na man and many a woman would only be too glad to have a friendly hint\nas to where they might prosecute their attentions or from which they\nmight receive proposals.  In connection with such an agency, if it were\nestablished--for I am mot engaging to undertake this task--\nI am only throwing out a possible suggestion as to the development in\nthe direction of meeting a much needed want, there might be added\ntraining homes for matrimony.  My heart bleeds for many a young couple\nwhom I see launching out into the sea of matrimony with no housewifery\nexperience.  The young girls who leave our public elementary schools\nand go out into factories have never been trained to home duties, and\nyet, when taken to wife, are unreasonably expected to fill worthily the\ndifficult positions of the head of a household and the mother of a\nfamily.  A month spent before marriage in a training home of\nhousewifery would conduce much more to the happiness of the married\nlife than the honeymoon which immediately follows it.\n\nEspecially is this the case with those who marry to go abroad and\nsettle in a distant country.  I often marvel when I think of the utter\nhelplessness of the modern woman, compared with the handiness of her\ngrandmother.  How many of our girls can even bake a loaf?  The baker has\nkilled out one of our fundamental domestic arts.  But if you are in the\nBackwoods or in the Prairie or in the Bush, no baker's cart comes round\nevery morning with the new-made bread, and I have often thought with\nsorrow of the kind of stuff which this poor wife must serve up to her\nhungry husband.  As it is with baking, so it is with washing, with\nmilking, with spinning, with all the arts and sciences of the\nhousehold, which were formerly taught, as a matter of course, to all\nthe daughters who were born in the world.  Talk about woman's rights,\none of the first of woman's rights is to be trained to her trade, to be\nqueen of her household, and mother of her children.\n\nSpeaking of colonists leads me to the suggestion whether something\ncould not be done to supply, on a well-organised system, the thousands\nof bachelor miners or the vast host of unmarried males who are\nstruggling with the wilderness on the outskirts of civilisation,\nwith capable wives from the overplus of marriageable females who abound\nin our great towns.  Woman supplied in adequate quantities is the great\nmoraliser of Society, but woman doled out as she is in the Far West and\nthe Australian bush, in the proportion of one woman to about a dozen\nmen, is a fertile source of vice and crime.  Here again we must get\nback to nature, whose fundamental laws our social arrangements have\nrudely set on one side with consequences which as usual she does not\nfail to exact with remorseless severity.  There have always been born\ninto the world and continue to be born boys and girls in fairly equal\nproportions, but with colonising and soldiering our men go away,\nleaving behind them a continually growing surplus of marriageable but\nunmarried spinsters, who cannot spin, and who are utterly unable to\nfind themselves husbands.  This is a wide field on the discussion of\nwhich I must not enter.  I merely indicate it as one of those\ndepartments in which an intelligent philanthropy might find a great\nsphere for its endeavours; but it would be better not to touch it at\nall than to deal with it with light-hearted precipitancy and without\ndue consideration of all the difficulties and dangers connected\ntherewith.  Obstacles, however, exist to be overcome and converted into\nvictories.  There is even a certain fascination about the difficult and\ndangerous, which appeals very strongly to all who know that it is the\napparently insolvable difficulty which contains within its bosom the\nkey to the problem which you are seeking to solve.\n\n\nSECTION 8.--WHITECHAPEL-BY-THE-SEA.\n\nIn considering the various means by which some substantial improvement\ncan be made in the condition of the toiling masses, recreation cannot\nbe omitted.  I have repeatedly had forced upon me the desirability of\nmaking it possible for them to spend a few hours occasionally by the\nseaside, or even at times three or four days.  Notwithstanding the\ncheapened rates and frequent excursions, there are multitudes of the\npoor who, year in and out, never get beyond the crowded city, with the\nexception of dragging themselves and their children now and then to the\nparks on holidays or hot summer evenings.  The majority, especially the\ninhabitants of the East of London, never get away from the sunless\nalleys and grimy streets in which they exist from year to year.\nIt is true that a few here and there of the adult population, and a\ngood many of the children, have a sort of annual charity excursion to\nEpping Forest, Hampton Court, or perhaps to the sea.  But it is only\nthe minority.  The vast number, while possessed of a passionate love of\nthe sea, which only those who have mixed with them can conceive,\npass their whole lives without having once looked over its blue waters,\nor watched its waves breaking at their feet.\n\nNow I am not so foolish as to dream that it is possible to make any\nsuch change in Society as will enable the poor man to take his wife and\nchildren for a fortnight's sojourn, during the oppressive summer days,\nto brace them up for their winter's task, although this might be as\ndesirable in their case as in that of their more highly favoured\nfellow-creatures.  But I would make it possible for every man;\nwoman and child, to get, now and then, a day's refreshing change by a\nvisit to that never-failing source of interest.  In the carrying out of\nthis plan, we are met at the onset with a difficulty of some little\nmagnitude, and that is the necessity of a vastly reduced charge in the\ncost of the journey.  To do anything effective we must be able to get a\nman from Whitechapel or Stratford to the sea-side and back for a\nshilling.\n\nUnfortunately, London is sixty miles from the sea.  Suppose we take it\nat seventy miles.  This would involve a journey of one hundred and\nforty miles for the small sum of 1s.  Can this be done?  I think it can,\nand done to pay the railway companies; otherwise there is no ground to\nhope for this part of my Scheme ever being realised.  But I think that\nthis great boon can be granted to the poor people without the dividends\nbeing sensibly affected.  I am told that the cost of haulage for an\nordinary passenger train, carrying from five hundred to a thousand\npersons, is 2s. 7d. per mile; a railway company could take six\nhundred passengers seventy miles there, and bring them seventy miles\nback, at a cost of #18 1s. 8d.  Six hundred passengers at a shilling is\n#30, so that there would be a clear profit to the company of nearly #12\non the haulage, towards the payment of interest on the capital, wear\nand tear of line, &c.  But I reckon, at a very moderate computation,\nthat two hundred thousand persons would travel to and fro every season.\nAn addition of #10,000 to the exchequer of a railway company is not to\nbe despised and this would be a mere bagatelle to the indirect profits\nwhich would follow the establishment of a settlement which must in due\ncourse necessarily become very speedily a large and active community.\n\nThis it would be necessary to bring home to the railway companies, and\nfor the execution of this part of my Scheme I must wait till I get some\nmanager sufficiently public-spirited to try the experiment.  When such a\nman is found, I purpose to set at once about my Sea-Side Establishment.\nThis will present the following special advantages, which I am quite\ncertain will be duly appreciated by the very poorest of the London\npopulation: --\n\nAn estate of some three hundred acres would be purchased on which\nbuildings would be erected, calculated to meet the wants of this class\nof excursionists.\n\nRefreshments would be provided at rates very similar to those charged\nat our London Food Depots.  There would, of course, be greater\nfacilities in the way of rooms and accommodation generally.\n\nLodgings for invalids, children, and those requiring to make a short\nstay in the place would be supplied at the lowest prices.  Beds for\nsingle men and single women could be charged at the low rate of\nsixpence a night, and children in proportion, while accommodation of a\nsuitable character, on very moderate terms, could be arranged for\nmarried people.\n\nNo public-houses would be allowed within the precincts of the\nsettlement.\n\nA park, playground, music, boats, covered conveniences for bathing,\nwithout the expense of hiring a machine, and other arrangements for the\ncomfort and enjoyment of the people would be provided.\n\nThe estate would form one of the Colonies of the general enterprise,\nand on it would be grown fruit, vegetables, flowers, and other produce\nfor the use of the visitors, and sold at the lowest remunerative rates.\nOne of the first provisions for the comfort of the excursionists would\nbe the erection of a large hall, affording ample shelter in case of\nunfavourable weather, and in this and other parts of the place there\nwould be the fullest opportunity for ministers of all denominations to\nhold religious services in connection with any excursionists they might\nbring with them.\n\nThere would be shops for tradesmen, houses for residets, a museum with\na panorama and stuffed whale; boats would be let out at moderate\nprices, and a steamer to carry people so many miles out to sea,\nand so many miles back for a penny, with a possible bout of sickness,\nfor which no extra charge would be made.\n\nIn fact the railway fares and refreshment arrangements would be on such\na scale, that a husband and wife could have a 70-mile ride through the\ngreen fields, the new-mown hay, the waving grain or fruit laden\norchards; could wander for hours on the seashore, have comforting and\nnourishing refreshment, and be landed back at home sober, cheered and\ninvigorated for the small sum of 3s.  A couple of children under 12\nmight be added at 1s. 6d.--nay, a whole family, husband, wife and\nfour children, supposing one is in arms, could have a day at the\nseaside, without obligation or charity, for 5s.\n\nThe gaunt, hungry inhabitants of the Slums would save up their\nhalfpence, and come by thousands; clergymen would find it possible to\nbring half the poor and needy occupants of their parishes; schools,\nmothers' meetings, and philanthropic societies of all descriptions\nwould come down wholesale; in short, what Brighton is to the West End\nand middle classes, this place would be to the East End poor, nay, to\nthe poor of the Metropolis generally, a Whitechapel-by-the-Sea.\n\nNow this ought to be done apart from my Scheme altogether.  The rich\ncorporations which have the charge of the affairs of this great City,\nand the millionaires, who would never have amassed their fortunes but\nby the assistance of the masses, ought to say it shall be done.\nSuppose the Railway Companies refused to lend the great highways of\nwhich they have become the monopolists for such an undertaking without\na subvention, then the necessary subvention should be forthcoming.\nIf it could be made possible for the joyless toilers to come out of the\nsweater's den, or the stifling factory; if the seamstress could leave\nher needle, and the mother get away from the weary round of babydom and\nhousehold drudgery for a day now and then, to the cooling,\ninvigorating, heart-stirring influences of the sea, it should be done,\neven if it did cost a few paltry thousands.  Let the men and women who\nspend a little fortune every year in Continental tours, Alpine\nclimbings, yacht excursions, and many another form of luxurious\nwanderings, come forward and say that it shall be possible for these\ncrowds of their less fortunate brethren to have the opportunity of\nspending one day at least in the year by the sea.\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nCAN IT BE DONE, AND HOW?\n\nSECTION 1.--THE CREDENTIALS OF THE SALVATION ARMY.\n\nCan this great work be done?  I believe it can.  And I believe that it\ncan be done by the Salvation Army, because it has ready to hand an\norganisation of men and women, numerous enough and zealous enough to\ngrapple with the enormous undertaking.  The work may prove beyond our\npowers.  But this is not so manifest as to preclude us from wishing to\nmake the attempt.  That in itself is a qualification which is shared by\nno other organisation--at present.  If we can do it we have the field\nentirely to ourselves.  The wealthy churches show no inclination to\ncompete for the onerous privilege of making the experiment in this\ndefinite and practical form.  Whether we have the power or not,\nwe have, at least, the will, the ambition to do this great thing for\nthe sake of our brethren, and therein lies our first credential for\nbeing entrusted with the enterprise.\n\nThe second credential is the fact that, while using all material means,\nour reliance is on the co-working power of God.  We keep our powder\ndry, but we trust in Jehovah.  We go not forth in our own strength to\nthis battle, our dependence is upon Him who can influence the heart of\nman.  There is no doubt that the most satisfactory method of raising a\nman must be to effect such a change in his views and feelings that he\nshall voluntarily abandon his evil ways, give himself to industry and\ngoodness in the midst of the very temptations and companionships that\nbefore led him astray, and live a Christian life, an example in himself\nof what can be done by the power of God in the very face of the most\nimpossible circumstances.\n\nBut herein lies the great difficulty again and again referred to,\nmen have not that force of character which will constrain them to avail\nthemselves of the methods of deliverance.  Now our Scheme is based on\nthe necessity of helping such.\n\nOur third credential is the fact that we have already out of\npractically nothing achieved so great a measure of success that we\nthink we may reasonably be entrusted with this further duty.\nThe ordinary operations of the Army have already effected most\nwonderful changes in the conditions of the poorest and worst.\nMultitudes of slaves of vice in every form have been delivered not only\nfrom these habits, but from the destitution and misery which they even\nproduce.  Instances have been given.  Any number more can be produced.\nOur experience, which has been almost world-wide, has ever shown that\nnot only does the criminal become honest, the drunkard sober,\nthe harlot chaste, but that poverty of the most abject and helpless\ntype vanishes away.  Our fourth credential is that our Organisation\nalone of England's religious bodies is founded upon the principle of\nimplicit obedience.\n\nFor Discipline I can answer.  The Salvation Army, largely recruited\nfrom among the poorest of the poor, is often reproached by its enemies\non account of the severity of its rule.  It is the only religious body\nfounded in our time that is based upon the principle of voluntary\nsubjection to an absolute authority.  No one is bound to remain in the\nArmy a day longer than he pleases.  While he remains there he is bound\nby the conditions of the Service.  The first condition of that Service\nis implicit, unquestioning obedience.  The Salvationist is taught to\nobey as is the soldier on the field of battle.\n\nFrom the time when the Salvation Army began to acquire strength and to\ngrow from the grain of mustard seed until now, when its branches\novershadow the whole earth, we have been constantly warned against the\nevils which this autocratic system would entail.  Especially were we\ntold that in a democratic age the people would never stand the\nestablishment of what was described as a spiritual despotism.\nIt was contrary to the spirit of the times, it would be a stone of\nstumbling and a rock of offence to the masses to whom we appeal,\nand so forth and so forth.\n\nBut what has been the answer of accomplished facts to these predictions\nof theorists?  Despite the alleged unpopularity of our discipline,\nperhaps because of the rigour of military authority upon which we have\ninsisted, the Salvation Army has grown from year to year with a\nrapidity to which nothing in modern Christendom affords any parallel.\nIt is only twenty-five years since it was born.  It is now the largest\nHome and Foreign Missionary Society in the Protestant world.  We have\nnearly 10,000 officers under our orders, a number increasing every day,\nevery one of whom has taken service on the express condition that he or\nshe will obey without questioning or gainsaying the orders from\nHeadquarters.  Of these, 4,600 are in Great Britain.  The greatest\nnumber outside these islands, in any one country, are in the American\nRepublic, where we have 1,018 officers, and democratic Australia,\nwhere we have 800.\n\nNor is the submission to our discipline a mere paper loyalty.\nThese officers are in the field, constantly exposed to privation\nand ill-treatment of all kinds.  A telegram from me will send any of\nthem to the uttermost parts of the earth, will transfer them from the\nSlums of London to San Francisco, or despatch them to assist in opening\nmissions in Holland, Zululand, Sweden, or South America.  So far from\nresenting the exercise of authority, the Salvation Army rejoices to\nrecognise it as one great secret of its success, a pillar of strength\nupon which all its soldiers can rely, a principle which stamps it as\nbeing different from all other religious organisations founded in our\nday.\n\nWith ten thousand officers, trained to obey, and trained equally to\ncommand, I do not feel that the organisation even of the disorganised,\nsweated, hopeless, drink-sodden denizens of darkest England is\nimpossible.  It is possible, because it has already been accomplished\nin the case of thousands who, before they were saved, were even such as\nthose whose evil lot we are now attempting to deal with.\n\nOur fifth credential is the extent and universality of the Army.\nWhat a mighty agency for working out the Scheme is found in the Army in\nthis respect!  This will be apparent when we consider that it has\nalready stretched itself through over thirty different Countries and\nColonies, with a permanent location in something like 4,000 different\nplaces, that it has either soldiers or friends sufficiently in sympathy\nwith it to render assistance in almost every considerable population in\nthe civilised world, and in much of the uncivilised, that it has nearly\n10,000 separated officers whose training, and leisure, and history\nqualify them to become its enthusiastic and earnest co-workers.\nIn fact, our whole people will hail it as the missing link in the great\nScheme for the regeneration of mankind, enabling them to act out those\nimpulses of their hearts which are ever prompting them to do good to\nthe bodies as well as to the souls of men.\n\nTake the meetings.  With few exceptions, every one of these four\nthousand centres has a Hall in which, on every evening in the week and\nfrom early morning until nearly midnight on every Sabbath, services are\nbeing held; that nearly every service held indoors is preceded by one\nout of doors, the special purport of every one being the saving of\nthese wretched crowds.  Indeed, when this Scheme is perfected and\nfairly at work, every meeting and every procession will be looked upon\nas an advertisement of the earthly as well as the heavenly conditions\nof happiness.  And every Barracks and Officer's quarters will become a\ncentre where poor sinful suffering men and women may find sympathy,\ncounsel, and practical assistance in every sorrow that can possibly\ncome upon them, and every Officer throughout our ranks in every quarter\nof the globe will become a co-worker.\n\nSee how useful our people will be in the gathering in of this class.\nThey are in touch with them.  They live in the same street, work in the\nsame shops and factories, and come in contact with them at every turn\nand corner of life.  If they don't live amongst them, they formerly did.\nThey know where to find them; they are their old chums, pot-house\ncompanions, and pals in crime and mischief.  This class is the\nperpetual difficulty of a Salvationist's life.  He feels that there is\nno help for them in the conditions in which they are at present found.\nThey are so hopelessly weak, and their temptations are so terribly\nstrong, that they go down before them.  The Salvationist feels this\nwhen he attacks them in the tap-rooms, in the low lodging houses, or in\ntheir own desolate homes.  Hence, with many, the Crusader has lost all\nheart.  He has tried them so often.  But this Scheme of taking them\nright away from their old haunts and temptations will put new life into\nhim and he will gather up the poor social wrecks wholesale, pass them\nalong, and then go and hunt for more.\n\nThen see how useful this army of Officers and Soldiers will be for the\nregeneration of this festering mass of vice and crime when it is, so to\nspeak, in our possession.  All the thousands of drunkards, and harlots,\nand blasphemers, and idlers have to be made over again, to be renewed\nin the spirit of their minds, that is--made good.  What a host of\nmoral workers will be required to accomplish such a gigantic\ntransformation.  In the Army we have a few thousands ready, anyway we\nhave as many as can be used at the outset, and the Scheme itself will\ngo on manufacturing more.  Look at the qualifications of these warriors\nfor the work!\n\nThey have been trained themselves, brought into line and are examples\nof the characters we want to produce.\n\nThey understand their pupils--having been dug out of the same pit.\nSet a rogue to catch a rogue, they say, that is, we suppose, are formed\nrogue.  Anyway, it is so with us.  These rough-and-ready warriors will\nwork shoulder to shoulder with them in the same manual employment.\nThey will engage in the task for love.  This is a substantial part of\ntheir religion, the moving instinct of the new heavenly nature that has\ncome upon them.  They want to spend their lives in doing good.\nHere will be an opportunity.\n\nThen see how useful these Soldiers will be for distribution!\nEvery Salvation Officer and Soldier in every one of these 4,000\ncentres, scattered through these thirty odd countries and colonies,\nwith all their correspondents and friends and comrades living\nelsewhere, will be ever on the watch-tower looking out for homes and\nemployments where these rescued men and women can be fixed up to\nadvantage, nursed into moral vigour, picked up again on stumbling,\nand watched over generally until able to travel the rough and slippery\npaths of life alone.\n\nI am, therefore, not without warrant for my confidence in the\npossibility of doing great things, if the problem so long deemed\nhopeless be approached with intelligence and determination on a scale\ncorresponding to the magnitude of the evil with which we have to cope.\n\n\nSECTION 2.--HOW MUCH WILL IT COST?\n\nA considerable amount of money will be required to fairly launch this\nScheme, and some income may be necessary to sustain it for a season,\nbut, once fairly afloat, we think there is good reason to believe that\nin all its branches it will be self-supporting, unless its area of\noperation is largely extended, on which we fully rely.  Of course,\nthe cost of the effort must depend very much upon its magnitude.\nIf anything is to be done commensurate with the extent of the evil,\nit will necessarily require a proportionate outlay.  If it is only the\ndrainage of a garden that is undertaken, a few pounds will meet the\ncost, but if it is a great dismal swamp of many miles in area,\nharbouring all manner of vermin, and breeding all kinds of deadly\nmalaria, that has to be reclaimed and cultivated, a very different sum\nwill not only be found necessary, but be deemed an economic investment.\n\nSeeing that the country pays out something like Ten Millions per annum\nin Poor Law and Charitable Relief without securing any real abatement\nof the evil, I cannot doubt that the public will hasten to supply\none-tenth of that sum.  If you reckon that of the submerged tenth we\nhave one million to deal with, this will only be one pound per head for\neach of those whom it is sought to benefit, or say ONE MILLION STERLING\nto give the present Scheme a fair chance of getting into practical\noperation.\n\nAccording to the amount furnished, must necessarily be the extent of\nour operations.  We have carefully calculated that with one hundred\nthousand pounds the scheme can be successfully set in motion,\nand that it can be kept going on an annual income of #30,000\nwhich is about three and a-quarter per cent. on the balance of the\nmillion sterling, for which I ask as an earnest that the public intend\nto put its hand to this business with serious resolution; and our\njudgment is based, not on any mere imaginings, but upon the actual\nresult of the experiments already made.  Still it must be remembered\nthat so vast and desirable an end cannot be even practically\ncontemplated without a proportionate financial outlay.  Supposing,\nhowever, by the subscription of this amount the undertaking is fairly\nset afloat.  The question may be asked, \"What further funds will be\nrequired for its efficient maintenance?\"  This question we proceed to\nanswer.  Let us look at the three Colonies apart, and then at some of\nthe circumstances which apply to the whole.  To begin with, there is\n\nTHE FINANCIAL ASPECT OF THE CITY COLONY.\n\nHere there will be, of course, a considerable outlay required for the\npurchasing and fitting up of property, the acquisition of machinery,\nfurniture, tools, and the necessary plant for carrying forward all\nthese varied operations.  These once acquired, no further outlay will\nbe needed except for the necessary reparations.\n\nThe Homes for the Destitute will be nearly, if not quite, self-sustaining.\nThe Superior Homes for both Single and Married people will not only pay\nfor themselves, but return some interest on the amount invested, which\nwould be devoted to the futherance of other parts of the Scheme.\n\nThe Refuges for Fallen Girls would require considerable funds to keep\nthem going.  But the public has never been slow to practically express\nits sympathy with this class of work.\n\nThe Criminal Homes and Prison Gate Operations would require continued\nhelp, but not a very great deal.  Then, the work in the Slums is\nsomewhat expensive.  The eighty young women at present engaged in it\ncost on an average 12s. per week each for personal maintenance,\ninclusive of clothes and other little matters, and there are expenses\nfor Halls and some little relief which cannot in anyway be avoided,\nbringing our present annual Slum outlay to over #4,000.  But the poor\npeople amongst whom they work notwithstanding their extreme poverty,\nare already contributing over #1,000 per annum towards this amount,\nwhich income will increase.  Still as by this Scheme we propose to add\nat once a hundred to the number already engaged, money will be required\nto keep th is department going.\n\nThe Inebriate Home, I calculate, will maintain itself.  All its inmates\nwill have to engage in some kind of remunerative labour, and we\ncalculate, in addition, upon receiving money with a considerable number\nof those availing themselves of its benefits.  But to practically\nassist the half-million slaves of the cup we must have money not only\nto launch out but to keep our operations going.\n\nThe Food Depots, once fitted up, pay their own working expenses.\n\nThe Emigration, Advice, and Inquiry Bureaux must maintain themselves or\nnearly so.  The Labour Shops, Anti-Sweating, and other similar\noperations will without question require money to make ends meet.\nBut on the whole, a very small sum of money, in proportion to the\nimmense amount of work done, will enable us to accomplish a vast deal\nof good.\n\nTHE FARM COLONY FROM A FINANCIAL POINT OF VIEW.\n\nLet us now turn to the Farm Colony, and consider it from a monetary\nstandpoint.  Here also a certain amount of money will have to be\nexpended at the outset; some of the chief items of which will be the\npurchase of land, the erection of buildings, the supply of stock, and\nthe production of first crops.  There is an abundance of land in the\nmarket, at the present time, at very low prices.  It is rather\nimportant for the initial experiment that an estate should be obtained\nnot too far from London, with land suitable for immediate cultivation.\nSuch an estate would beyond question be expensive.  After a time,\nI have no doubt, we shall be able to deal with land of almost any\nquality (and that in almost any part of the country), in consequence of\nthe superabundance of labour we shall possess.  There is no question if\nthe scheme goes forward, but that estates will be required in\nconnection with all our large towns and cities.  I am not without hope\nthat a sufficient quantity of land will be given, or, in any way,\nsold to us on very favourable terms.\n\nWhen acquired and stocked, it is calculated that this land,\nif cultivated by spade husbandry, will support at least two persons\nper acre.  The ordinary reckoning of those who have had experience\nwith allotments gives five persons to three acres.\nBut, even supposing that this calculation is a little too sanguine,\nwe can still reckon a farm of 500 acres supporting, without any\noutside assistance, say, 750 persons.  But, in this Scheme, we should\nhave many advantages not possessed by the simple peasant, such as\nthose resulting from combination, market gardening, and the other\nforms of cultivation already referred to, and thus we should want to\nplace two or three times this number on that quantity of land.\n\nBy a combination of City and Town Colonies, there will be a market for\nat least a large portion of the products.  At the rate of our present\nconsumption in the London Food Depots and Homes for the Destitute\nalone, at least 50 acres would be required for potatoes alone,\nand every additional Colonist would be an additional consumer.\n\nThere will be no rent to pay, as it is proposed to buy the land right\nout.  In the event of a great rush being made for the allotment's\nspoken of, further land might be rented, with option of purchase.\n\nOf course, the continuous change of labourers would tell against the\nprofitableness of the undertaking.  But this would be proportionally\nbeneficial to the country, seeing that everyone who passes through the\ninstitution with credit makes one less in the helpless crowd.\n\nThe rent of Cottages and Allotments would constitute a small return,\nand at least pay interest on the money invested in them.\n\nThe labour spent upon the Colony would be constantly increasing its\nmoney value.  Cottages would be built, orchards planted, land enriched,\nfactories run up, warehouses erected, while other improvements would be\ncontinually going forward.  All the labour and a large part of the\nmaterial would be provided by the Colonists themselves.\n\nIt may be suggested that the worker would nave to be maintained during\nthe progress of these erections and manufactures, the cost of which\nwould in itself amount to a considerable sum.  Truer and for this the\nfirst outlay would be required.  But after this every cottage erected,\nevery road made, in short every structure and improvement, would be a\nmeans of carrying forward the regenerating process, and in many cases\nit is expected will become a source of income.\n\nAs the Scheme progresses, it is not irrational to expect that\nGovernment, or some of the varied Local Authorities, will assist in the\nworking out of a plan which, in so marked a manner, will relieve the\nrates and taxes or the country.\n\nThe salaries of Officers would be in keeping with those given in the\nSalvation Army, which are very low.\n\nNo wages would be paid to Colonists, as has been described, beyond\npocket money and a trifle for extra service.\n\nAlthough no permanent invalid would be knowingly taken into the\nColonies, it is fair to assume that there will be a certain number,\nand also a considerable residuum of naturally indolent, half-witted\npeople, incapable of improvement, left upon our hands.  Still, it is\nthought that with reformed habits, variety of employment, and careful\noversight, such may be made to earn their own maintenance, at least,\nespecially when it is borne in mind that unless they work, so far as\nthey have ability, they cannot remain in the Colony.\n\nIf the Household Salvage Scheme which has been explained in Chapter II.\nproves the success we anticipate, there can be no question that great\nfinancial assistance will be rendered by it to the entire scheme when\nonce the whole thing has been brought into working order.\n\nTHE FINANCIAL ASPECT OF THE COLONY OVER-SEA.\n\nLet us now turn to the Colony Over-Sea, and regard it also from the\nfinancial standpoint.  Here we must occupy ourselves chiefly with the\npreliminary outlay, as we could not for a moment contemplate having to\nfind money to assist it when once fairly established.  The initial\nexpense will, no doubt, be somewhat heavy, but not beyond a reasonable\namount.\n\nThe land required would probably be given, whether we go to Africa,\nCanada, or elsewhere; anyway, it would be acquired on such easy terms\nas would be a near approach to a gift.\n\nA considerable sum would certainly be necessary for effecting the first\nsettlements.  There would be temporary buildings to erect, land to\nbreak up and crop; stock, farm implements, and furniture to purchase,\nand other similar expenses.  But this would not be undertaken on a\nlarge scale, as we should rely, to some extent, on the successive\nbatches of Colonists more or less providing for themselves, and in this\nrespect working out their own salvation.\n\nThe amount advanced for passages, outfit money, and settlement would be\nrepaid by instalments by the Colonists, which would in turn serve to\npay the cost of conveying others to the same destination.\n\nPassage and outfit money would, no doubt, continue to be some\ndifficulty.  #8 per head, say to Africa--#5 passage money, and #3 for\nthe journey across the country--is a large sum when a considerable\nnumber are involved; and I am afraid no Colony would be reached at a\nmuch lower rate.  But I am not without hope that the Government might\nassist us in this direction.\n\nTaking up the entire question, that is of the three Colonies, we are\nsatisfied that the sum named will suffice to set to work an agency\nwhich will probably rescue from lives of degradation and immorality an\nimmense number of people, and that an income of something like #30,000\nwill keep it afloat.  But supposing that a much larger amount should be\nrequired, by operations greatly in advance of those here spoken of,\nwhich we think exceedingly probable, it is not unreasonable to expect\nthat it will be forthcoming, seeing that caring for the poor is not\nonly a duty of universal obligation, a root principle of all religion,\nbut an instinct of humanity not likely to be abolished in our time.\nWe are not opposed to charity as such, but to the mode of its\nadministration, which, instead of permanently relieving, only\ndemoralises and plunges the recipients lower in the mire, and so\ndefeats its own purpose.\n\n\"What!\" I think I hear some say, \"a million sterling! how can any man\nout of Bedlam dream of raising such a sum?\"  Stop a little!  A million\nmay be a great deal to pay for a diamond or a palace, but it is a mere\ntrifle compared with the sums which Britain lavishes whenever Britons\nare in need of deliverance if they happen to be imprisoned abroad.\nThe King of Ashantee had captive some British subjects--not even of\nEnglish birth--in 1869.  John Bull despatched General Wolseley with\nthe pick of the British army, who smashed Koffee Kalkallee, liberated\nthe captives, and burnt Coomassie, and never winced when the bill came\nin for #750,000.  But that was a mere trifle.  When King Theodore,\nof Abyssinia, made captives of a couple of British representatives,\nLord Napier was despatched to rescue.  He marched his army to Magdala,\nbrought back the prisoners, and left King Theodore dead.\nThe cost of that expedition was over nine millions sterling.\nThe Egyptian Campaign, that smashed Arabi, cost nearly five millions.\nThe rush to Khartoum, that arrived too late to rescue General Gordon,\ncost at least as much.  The Afghan war cost twenty-one millions\nsterling.  Who dares then to say that Britain cannot provide a million\nsterling to rescue, not one or two captives, but a million, whose lot\nis quite as doleful as that of the prisoners of savage kings, but who\nare to be found, not in the land of the Soudan, or in the swamps of\nAshantee, or in the Mountains of the Moon, but here at our very doors?\nDon't talk to me about the impossibility of raising the million.\nNothing is impossible when Britain is in earnest.  All talk of\nimpossibility only means that you don't believe that the nation cares\nto enter upon a serious campaign against the enemy at our gates.\nWhen John Bull goes to the wars he does not count the cost.  And who\ndare deny that the time has fully come for a declaration of war against\nthe Social Evils which seem to shut out God from this our world?\n\n\nSECTION 3.--SOME ADVANTAGES STATED.\n\nThis Scheme takes into its embrace all kinds and classes of men who may\nbe in destitute circumstances, irrespective of their character or\nconduct, and charges itself with supplying at once their temporal\nneeds; and then aims at placing them in a permanent position of\ncomparative comfort, the only stipulation made being a willingness to\nwork and to conform to discipline on the part of those receiving its\nbenefit.\n\nWhile at the commencement, we must impose some limits with respect to\nage and sickness, we hope, when fairly at work, to be able to dispense\nwith even these restrictions, and to receive any unfortunate individual\nwho has only his misery to recommend him and an honest desire to get\nout of it.\n\nIt will be seen that, in this respect, the Scheme stands head and\nshoulders above any plan that has ever been mooted before, seeing that\nnearly all the other charitable and remedial proposals more or less\nconfess their utter inability to benefit any but what they term the\n\"decent\" working man.\n\nThis Scheme seeks out by all manner of agencies, marvellously adapted\nfor the task, the classes whose welfare it contemplates, and, by varied\nmeasures and motives adapted to their circumstances, compels them to\naccept its benefits.\n\nOur Plan contemplates nothing short of revolutionising the character of\nthose whose faults are the reason for their destitution.  We have seen\nthat with fully fifty per cent. of these their own evil conduct is the\ncause of their wretchedness.  To stop short with them of anything less\nthan a real change of heart will be to invite and ensure failure.\nBut this we are confident of effecting--anyway, in the great majority\nof cases, by reasonings and persuasions, concerning both earthly and\nheavenly advantages, by the power of man, and by the power of God.\n\nBy this Scheme any man, no matter how deeply he may have fallen in\nself-respect and the esteem of all about him, may re-enter life afresh,\nwith the prospect of re-establishing his character when lost,\nor perhaps of establishing a character for the first time, and so\nobtaining an introduction to decent employment, and a claim for\nadmission into Society as a good citizen.  While many of this crowd are\nabsolutely without a decent friend, others will have, on that higher\nlevel of respectability they once occupied, some relative, or friend,\nor employer, who occasionally thinks of them, and who, if only\nsatisfied that a real change has taken place in the prodigal, will not\nonly be willing, but delighted, to help them once more.\n\nBy this Scheme, we believe we shall be able to teach habits of economy,\nhousehold management, thrift, and the like.  There are numbers of men\nwho, although suffering the direst pangs of poverty, know little or\nnothing about the value of money, or the prudent use of it; and there\nare hundreds of poor women who do not know what a decently-managed home\nis, and who could not make one if they had the most ample means and\ntried ever so hard to accomplish it, having never seen anything but\ndirt, disorder, and misery in their domestic history.  They could not\ncook a dinner or prepare a meal decently if their lives were dependent\non it, never having had a chance of learning how to do it.  But by this\nScheme hope to teach these things.\n\nBy this Plan, habits of cleanliness will be created, and some\nknowledge of sanitary questions in general will be imparted.\nThis Scheme changes the circumstances of those whose poverty is caused\nby their misfortune.  To begin with, it finds work for the unemployed.\nThis is the chief need.  The great problem that has for ages been\npuzzling the brains of the political economist and philanthropist has\nbeen \"How can we find these people work?\"  No matter what other helps\nare discovered, without work there is no real ground for hope.\nCharity and all the other ten thousand devices are only temporary\nexpedients, altogether insufficient to meet the necessity.  Work, apart\nfrom the fact that it is God's method of supplying the wants of man's\ncomposite nature, is an essential to his well-being in every way--\nand on this Plan there is work, honourable work--none of your\ndemoralising stone-breaking, or oakum-picking business, which\ntantalises and insults poverty, Every worker will feel that he is not\nonly occupied for his own benefit, but that any advantage reaped over\nand above that which he gains himself will serve to lift some other\npoor wretch out of the gutter.\n\nThere would be work within the capacity of all.  Every gift could be\nemployed.  For instance, take five persons on the Farm--a baker,\na tailor, a shoemaker, a cook, and an agriculturist.  The baker would\nmake bread for all, the tailor garments for all, the shoemaker shoes\nfor all, the cook would cook for all, and the agriculturist dig for all.\nThose who know anything which would be useful to the inhabitants of\nthe Colony will be set to do it, and those who are ignorant of any\ntrade or profession will be taught one.\n\nThis Scheme removes the vicious and criminal classes out of the sphere\nof those temptations before which they have invariably fallen in the\npast.  Our experience goes to show that when you have, by Divine grace,\nor by any consideration of the advantages of a good life, or the\ndisadvantages of a bad one, produced in a man circumstanced as those\nwhom we have been describing, the resolution to turn over a new leaf,\nthe temptations and difficulties he has to encounter will ordinarily\nmaster him, and undo all that has been done, if he still continues to\nbe surrounded by old companions and allurements to sin.\n\nNow, look at the force of the temptations this class has to fight\nagainst.  What is it that leads people to do wrong--people of all\nclasses, rich as well as poor?  Not the desire to sin.  They do not want\nto sin; many of them do not know what sin is, but they have certain\nappetites or natural likings, the indulgence of which is pleasant to\nthem, and when the desire for their unlawful gratification is aroused,\nregardless of the claims of God, their own highest interests, or the\nwell-being of their fellows, they are carried away by them; and thus\nall the good resolutions they have made in the past come to grief.\n\nFor instance, take the temptation which comes through the natural\nappetite, hunger.  Here is a man who has been at a religious meeting,\nor received some good advice, or, perhaps, just come out of prison,\nwith the memories of the hardships he has suffered fresh upon him, or\nthe advice of the chaplain ringing in his ears.  He has made up his\nmind to steal no more, but he has no means of earning a livelihood.\nHe becomes hungry.  What is he to do?  A loaf of bread tempts him, or,\nmore likely, a gold chain which he can turn into bread.  An inward\nstruggle commences, he tries to stick to his bargain, but the hunger\ngoes on gnawing within, and it may be there is a wife and children\nhungry as well as himself; so he yields to the temptation, takes the\nchain, and in turn the policeman takes him.\n\nNow this man does not want to do wrong, and still less does he want to\ngo to prison.  In a sincere, dreamy way he desires to be good,\nand if the path were easier for him he would probably walk in it.\n\nAgain, there is the appetite for drink.  That man has no thought of\nsinning when he takes his first glass.  Much less does he want to get\ndrunk.  He may have still a vivid recollection of the unpleasant\nconsequences that followed his last spree, but the craving is on him;\nthe public-house is there handy; his companions press him; he yields,\nand falls, and, perhaps, falls to rise no more.\n\nWe might amplify, but our Scheme proposes to take the poor slave right\naway from the public-houses, the drink, and the companions that allure\nhim to it, and therefore we think the chances of reformation in him are\nfar greater.\n\nThen think of the great boon this Scheme will be to the children,\nbringing them out of the slums, wretched hovels, and filthy surroundings\nin which they are being reared for lives of abomination of every\ndescription, into the fields, amongst the green trees and cottage homes,\nwhere they can grow up with a chance of saving both body and soul.\n\nThink again of the change this Scheme will make for these poor\ncreatures from the depressing, demoralising surroundings, of the\nunsightly, filthy quarters in which they are huddled together, to the\npure air and sights and sounds of the country.  There is much talk\nabout the beneficial influence of pictures, music and literature upon\nthe multitudes.  Money, like water, is being poured forth to supply\nsuch attractions in Museums, People's Palaces, and the like, for the\nedification and amelioration of the social condition of the masses.\nBut \"God made the country, man made the town,\" and if we take the\npeople to the pictures of divine manufacture, that must be the superior\nplan.\n\nAgain, the Scheme is capable of illimitable application.  The plaister\ncan be made as large as the wound.  The wound is certainly a very\nextensive one, and it seems at first sight almost ridiculous for any\nprivate enterprise to attempt dealing with it.  Three millions of\npeople, living in little short of perpetual misery have to be reached\nand rescued out of this terrible condition.  But it can be done, and\nthis Scheme will do it, if it is allowed a fair chance.  Not all at\nonce?  True!  It will take time, but it will begin to tell on the\nrestering mass straight away.  Within a measurable distance we ought\nto be able to take out of this black sea at least a hundred individuals\na week, and there is no reason why this number should not go on\nincreasing.\n\nAn appreciable impression on this gulf of misery would be immediately\nmade, not only for those who are rescued from its dark waters,\nbut for those who are left behind, seeing that for every hundred\nindividuals removed, there is just the additional work which they\nperformed for those who remain.  It might not be much, but still it\nwould soon count up.  Supposing three carpenters are starving on\nemployment which covered one-third of their time, if you take two away,\nthe one left will have full employment.  But it will be for the public\nto fix, by their contributions, the extent of our operations.\n\nThe benefits bestowed by this Scheme will be permanent in duration.\nIt will be seen that this is no temporary expedient, such as, alas!\nnearly every effort hitherto made on behalf of these classes has been.\nRelief Works, Soup Kitchens, Enquiries into Character, Emigration\nSchemes, of which none will avail themselves, Charity in its hundred\nforms, Casual Wards, the Union, and a hundred other Nostrums may serve\nfor the hour, but they are only at the best palliations.  But this\nScheme, I am bold to say, offers a substantial and permanent remedy.\n\nIn relieving one section of the community, our plan involves no\ninterference with the well-being of any other.\n(See Chapter VII. Section 4, \"Objections.\")\n\nThis Scheme removes the all but insuperable barrier to an industrious\nand godly life.  It means not only the leading of these lost multitudes\nout of the \"City of Destruction\" into the Canaan of plenty, but the\nlifting of them up to the same level of advantage with the more\nfavoured of mankind for securing the salvation of their souls.\n\nLook at the circumstances of hundreds and thousands of the classes of\nwhom we are speaking.  From the cradle to the grave, might not their\ninfluence in the direction of Religious Belief be summarised in one\nsentence, \"Atheism made easy.\"  Let my readers imagine theirs to have\nbeen a similar lot.  Is it not possible that, under such circumstances,\nthey might have entertained some serious doubts as to the existence of\na benevolent God who would thus allow His creatures to starve, or that\nthey would have been so preoccupied with their temporal miseries as to\nhave no heart for any concern about the next life?\n\nTake a man, hungry and cold, who does not know where his next meal is\ncoming from; nay, who thinks it problematical whether it will come at\nall.  We know his thoughts will be taken up entirely with the bread he\nneeds for his body.  What he wants is a dinner.  The interests of his\nsoul must wait.\n\nTake a woman with a starving family, who knows that as soon as Monday\ncomes round the rent must be paid, or else she and her children must\ngo into the street, and her little belongings be impounded.\nAt the present moment she is without it.  Are not her thoughts likely\nto wander in that direction if she slips into a Church or Mission Hall,\nor Salvation Army Barracks?\n\nI have had some experience on this subject, and have been making\nobservations with respect to it ever since the day I made my first\nattempt to reach these starving, hungry, crowds--just over forty-five\nyears ago--and I am quite satisfied that these multitudes will not be\nsaved in their present circumstances.  All the Clergymen.\nHome Missionaries, Tract Distributors, Sick Visitors, and everyone else\nwho care about the Salvation of the poor, may make up their minds as to\nthat.  If these people are to believe in Jesus Christ, become the\nServants of God, and escape the miseries of the wrath to come, they\nmust be helped out of their present social miseries.  They must be put\ninto a position in which they can work and eat, and have a decent room\nto live and sleep in, and see something before them besides a long,\nweary, monotonous, grinding round of toil, and anxious care to keep\nthemselves and those they love barely alive, with nothing at the\nfurther end but the Hospital, the Union, or the Madhouse.  If Christian\nWorkers and Philanthropists will join hands to effect this change it\nwill be accomplished, and the people will rise up and bless them, and\nbe saved; if they will not, the people will curse them and perish.\n\n\nSECTION 4.--SOME OBJECTIONS MET.\n\nObjections must be expected.  They are a necessity with regard to any\nScheme that has not yet been reduced to practice, and simply signify\nforeseen difficulties in the working of it.  We freely admit that there\nare abundance of difficulties in the way of working out the plan\nsmoothly and successfully that has been laid down.  But many of these\nwe imagine will vanish when we come to close quarters, and the\nremainder will be surmounted by courage and patience.  Should, however,\nthis plan prove the success we predict, it must eventually\nrevolutionise the condition of the starving sections of Society,\nnot only in this great metropolis, but throughout the whole range of\ncivilisation.  It must therefore be worthy not only of a careful\nconsideration but of persevering trial.\n\nSome of these difficulties at first sight appear rather serious.\nLet us look at them.\n\nObjection I.--It is suggested that the class of people for whose\nbenefit the Scheme is designed would not avail themselves of it.\n\nWhen the feast was prepared and the invitation had gone forth,\nit is said that the starving multitudes would not come; that though\nlabour was offered them in the City, or prepared for them on the Farm,\nthey would prefer to rot in their present miseries rather than avail\nthemselves of the benefit provided.\n\nIn order to gather the opinions of those most concerned, we consulted\none evening, by a Census in our London Shelters, two hundred and fifty\nmen out of work, and all suffering severely in consequence.\nWe furnished a set of questions, and obtained answers from the whole.\nNow, it must be borne in mind that these men were under no obligation\nwhatever to make any reply to our enquiries, much less to answer them\nfavourably to our plan, of which they knew next to nothing.\n\nThese two hundred and fifty men were mostly in the prime of life,\nthe greater portion of them being skilled workmen; an examination of\nthe return papers showing that out of the entire number two hundred and\nseven were able to work at their trades had they the opportunity.\n\nThe number of trades naturally varied.  There were some of all kinds:\nEngineers, Custom House Officers, Schoolmasters, Watch and Clockmakers,\nSailors, and men of the different branches of the Building trade;\nalso a number of men who have been in business on their own account.\n\nThe average amount of wages earned by the skilled mechanics when\nregularly employed was 33s. per week; the money earned by the\nunskilled averaged 22s. per week.\n\nThey could not be accounted lazy, as most of them; when not employed\nat their own trade or occupation, had proved their willingness to work\nby getting jobs at anything that turned up.  On looking over the list\nwe saw that one who had been a Custom House Officer had recently acted\nas Carpenter's Labourer; a Type-founder had been glad to work at\nChimney Sweeping; the Schoolmaster, able to speak five languages, who\nin his prosperous days had owned a farm, was glad to do odd jobs as a\nBricklayer's Labourer; a Gentleman's Valet, who once earned #5 a week,\nhad come so low down in the world that he was glad to act as Sandwich\nman for the magnificent sum of fourteenpence a day, and that, only as\nan occasional affair.\n\nIn the list was a dyer and cleaner, married, with a wife and nine\nchildren, who had been able to earn 40s. a week, but had done no\nregular work for three years out of the last ten.\n\nWe put the following question to the entire number: -- \"If you were put\non a farm, and set to work at anything you could do, and supplied with\nfood, lodging, and clothing, with a view to getting you on to your\nfeet, would you be willing to do all you could?\"\n\nIn response, the whole 250 replied in the affirmative, with one\nexception, and on enquiry we elicited that, being a sailor, the man was\nafraid he would not know how to do the work.\n\nOn being interrogated as to their willingness to grapple with the hard\nlabour on the land, they said:  \"Why should we not?  Look at us.\nCan any plight be more miserable than ours?\"  Why not, indeed?\nA glance at them would certainly make it impossible for any thoughtful\nperson to assign a rational reason for their refusal--in rags,\nswarming with vermin, hungry, many of them living on scraps of food,\nbegged or earned in the most haphazard fashion, without sufficient\nclothing to cover their poor gaunt limbs, most of them without a shirt.\nThey had to start out the next morning, uncertain which way to turn to\nearn a crust for dinner, or the fourpence necessary to supply them\nagain with the humble shelter they had enjoyed that night.  The idea of\ntheir refusing employment which would supply abundantly the necessaries\nof life, and give the prospect of becoming, in process of time,\nthe owner of a home, with its comforts and companionships, is beyond\nconception.  There is not much question that this class will not only\naccept the Scheme we want to set before them, but gratefully do all in\ntheir power to make it a success.\n\nII.--Too many would come.  This would be very probable.\nThere would certainly be too many apply.  But we should be under no\nobligation to take more than was convenient.  The larger the number of\napplications the wider the field for selection, and the greater the\nnecessity for the enlargement of our operations.\n\nIII.--They would run away.  It is further objected that if they did\ncome, the monotony of the life, the strangeness of the work, together\nwith the absence of the excitements and amusements with which they had\nbeen entertained in the cities and towns, would render their existence\nunbearable.  Even when left to the streets, there is an amount of life\nand action in the city which is very attractive.  Doubtless some would\nrun away, but I don't think this would be a large proportion.\nThe change would be so great, and so palpably advantageous, that I\nthink they would find in it ample compensation for the deprivation of\nany little pleasureable excitement they had left behind them in the\ncity.  For instance, there would be--\n\n   A Sufficiency of Food.\n\n   The friendliness and sympathy of their new associates.  There would\n   be abundance of companions of similar tastes and circumstances--\n   not all pious.  It would be quite another matter to going\n   single-handed on to a farm, or into a melancholy family.\n\n   Then there would be the prospect of doing well for themselves in\n   the future, together with all the religious life, meetings, music,\n   and freedom of the Salvation Army.\n\nBut what says our experience?\n\nIf there be one class which is the despair of the social reformer,\nit is that which is variously described, but which we may term the lost\nwomen of our streets.  From the point of view of the industrial\norganiser, they suffer from almost every fault that human material can\npossess.  They are, with some exceptions, untrained to labour,\ndemoralised by a life of debauchery, accustomed to the wildest license,\nemancipated from all discipline but that of starvation, given to drink,\nand, for the most part, impaired in health.  If, therefore,\nany considerable number of this class can be shown to be ready to\nsubmit themselves voluntarily to discipline, to endure deprivation of\ndrink, and to apply themselves steadily to industry, then example will\ngo a long way towards proving that even the worst description of\nhumanity, when intelligently, thoroughly handled, is amenable to\ndiscipline and willing to work.  In our British Rescue Homes we receive\nconsiderably over a thousand unfortunates every year; while all over\nthe world, our annual average is two thousand.  The work has been in\nprogress for three years--long enough to enable us to test very fully\nthe capacity of the class in question to reform.\n\nWith us there is no compulsion.  If any girl wishes to remain, she\nremains.  If she wishes to go, she goes.  No one is detained a day or\nan hour longer than they choose to stay.  Yet our experience shows\nthat, as a rule, they do not run away.  Much more restless and\nthoughtless and given to change, as a class, than men, the girls do\nnot, in any considerable numbers, desert.  The average of our London\nHomes, for the last three years, gives only 14 per cent. as leaving on\ntheir own account, while for the year 1889 only 5 per cent.  And the\nentire number, who have either left or been dismissed during that year,\namounts only to 13 per cent. on the whole.\n\nIV.--They would not work.\nOf course, to such as had for years been leading idle lives, anything\nlike work and exhaustive labour would be very trying and wearisome,\nand a little patience and coaxing might be required to get them into\nthe way of it.  Perhaps some would be hopelessly beyond salvation in\nthis respect, and, until the time comes, if it ever does arrive,\nwhen the Government will make it a crime for an abled-bodied man to beg\nwhen there is an opportunity for him to engage in remunerative work,\nthis class will wander abroad preying upon a generous public.  It will,\nhowever, only need to be known that any man can obtain work if he wants\nit, for those who have by their liberality maintained men and women in\nidleness to cease doing so.  And when it comes to this pass, that a man\ncannot eat without working, of the two evils he will choose the latter,\npreferring labour, however unpleasant it may be to his tastes, to\nactual starvation.\n\nIt must be borne in mind that the penalty of certain expulsion, which\nall would be given to understand would be strictly enforced would have\na good influence in inducing the idlest to give work a fair trial,\nand once at it should not despair of conquering the aversion\naltogether, and eventually being able to transform and pass these once\nlazy loafers as real industrious members of Society.\n\nAgain, any who have fears on this point may be encouraged by\ncontrasting the varied and ever-changing methods of labour we should\npursue, with the monotonous and uninteresting grind of many of the\nordinary employments of the poor, and the circumstances by which they\nare surrounded.\n\nHere, again, we fall back upon our actual experience in reclamation\nwork.  In our Homes for Saving the Lost Women we have no difficulty of\ngetting them to work.  The idleness of this section of the social\nstrata has been before referred to; it is not for a moment denied,\nand there can be no question, as to its being the cause of much of\ntheir poverty and distress.  But from early morn until the lights are\nout at night, all is a round of busy, and, to a great extent, very\nuninteresting labour; while the girls have, as a human inducement,\nonly domestic service to look forward to--of which they are in no way\nparticularly enamoured--and yet here is no mutiny, no objection,\nno unwillingness to work; in fact they appear well pleased to be kept\ncontinually at it.  Here is a report that teaches the same lesson.\n\nA small Bookbinding Factory is worked in connection with the Rescue\nHomes in London.  The folders and stitchers are girls saved from the\nstreets, but who, for various reasons, were found unsuitable for\ndomestic service.  The Factory has solved the problem of employment for\nsome of the most difficult cases.  Two of the girls at present employed\nthere are crippled, while one is supporting herself and two young\nchildren.\n\nWhile learning the work they live in the Rescue Homes, and the few\nshillings they are able to earn are paid into the Home funds.\nAs soon as they are able to earn 12s. a week, a lodging is found for\nthem (with Salvationists, if possible), and they are placed entirely\nupon their own resources.  The majority of girls working at this trade\nin London are living in the family, and 6s., 7s., and 8s. a week make\nan acceptable addition to the Home income; but our girls who are\nentirely dependent upon their own earnings must make an average wage of\n12s. a week at least.  In order that they may do this we are obliged to\npay higher wages than other employers.  For instance, we give from\n2 1/2d. to 3d. a thousand more than the trade for binding small\npamphlets; nevertheless, after the Manager, a married man, is paid, and\na man for the superintendence of the machines, a profit of about #500\nhas been made, and the work is improving.  They are all paid piecework.\n\nEighteen women are supporting themselves in this way at present, and\nconducting themselves most admirably.  One of their number acts as\nforewoman, and conducts the Prayer Meeting at 12.30, the Two-minutes'\nPrayer after meals, etc.  Their continuance in the factory is subject\nto their good behaviour--both at home as well as at work.\nIn one instance only have we had any trouble at all, and in this\nsolitary case the girl was so penitent she was forgiven, and has done\nwell ever since.  I think that, without exception, they are Salvation\nSoldiers, and will be found at nearly every meeting on the Sabbath,\netc.  The binding of Salvation Army publications-- \"The Deliverer,\"\n\"All the World,\" the Penny Song Books, etc., almost keep us going.\nA little outside work for the end of the months is taken, but we are\nnot able to make any profit generally, it is so badly paid.\n\nIt will be seen that this is a miniature factory, but still it is a\nfactory, and worked on principles that will admit of illimitable\nextension, and may, I think, be justly regarded as an encouragement and\nan exemplification of what may be accomplished in endless variations.\n\nV.--Again, it is objected that the class whose benefit we\ncontemplate would not have physical ability to work on a farm, or in\nthe open air.\n\nHow, it is asked, would tailors, clerks, weavers, seamstresses,\nand the destitute people, born and reared in the slums and\npoverty-hovels of the towns and cities, do farm or any other work that\nhas to do with the land?  The employment in the open air, with exposure\nto every kind of weather which accompanies it, would, it is said, kill\nthem off right away.\n\nWe reply, that the division of labour before described would render it\nas unnecessary as it would be undesirable and uneconomical, to put many\nof these people to dig or to plant.  Neither is it any part of our plan\nto do so.  On our Scheme we have shown how each one would be appointed\nto that kind of work for which his previous knowledge and experience\nand strength best adapted him.  Moreover, there can be no possible\ncomparison between the conditions of health enjoyed by men and women\nwandering about homeless, sleeping in the streets or in the\nfever-haunted lodging-houses, or living huddled up in a single room,\nand toiling twelve and fourteen hours in a sweater's den, and living in\ncomparative comfort in well-warmed and ventilated houses, situated in\nthe open country, with abundance of good, healthy food.\n\nTake a man or a woman out into the fresh air, give them proper\nexercise, and substantial food.  Supply them with a comfortable home,\ncheerful companions, and a fair prospect of reaching a position of\nindependence in this or some other land, and a complete renewal of\nhealth and careful increase of vigour will, we expect, be one of the\nfirst great benefits that will ensue.\n\nVI.--It is objected that we should be left with a considerable\nresiduum of half-witted, helpless people.\n\nDoubtless this would be a real difficulty, and we should have to\nprepare for it.  We certainly, at the outset, should have to guard\nagainst too many of this class being left upon our hands, although we\nshould not be compelled to keep anyone.  It would, how ever, be painful\nto have to send them back to the dreadful life from which we had\nrescued them.  Still, however, this would not be so ruinous a risk,\nlooked at financially, as some would imagine.  We could, we think,\nmaintain them for 4s. per week, and they would be very weak indeed in\nbody, and very wanting in mental, strength if they were not able to\nearn that amount in some one of the many forms of employment which the\nColony would open up.\n\nVII.--Again, it will be objected that some efforts of a similar\ncharacter have failed.  For instance, co-operative enterprises in\nfarming have not succeeded.\n\nTrue, but so far as I can ascertain, nothing of the character I am\ndescribing has ever been attempted.  A large number of Socialistic\ncommunities have been established and come to grief in the United\nStates, in Germany, and elsewhere, but they have all, both in principle\nand practice, strikingly differed from what we are proposing here:\nTake one particular alone, the great bulk of these societies have not\nonly been fashioned without any regard to the principles of\nChristianity, but, in the vast majority of instances, have been in\ndirect opposition to them; and the only communities based on\nco-operative principles that have survived the first few months of\ntheir existence have been based upon Christian truth.  If not absolute\nsuccesses, there have been some very remarkable results obtained by\nefforts partaking somewhat of the nature of the one I am setting forth.\n(See that of Ralahine, described in Appendix.)\n\nVIII.--It is further objected that it would be impossible to maintain\norder and enforce good discipline amongst this class of people.\n\nWe are of just the opposite opinion.  We think that it would --nay,\nwe are certain of it, and we speak as those who have had considerable\nexperience in dealing with the lower classes of Society.\nWe have already dealt with this difficulty.  We may say further--\n\nThat we do not propose to commence with a thousand people in a wild,\nuntamed state, either at home or abroad.  To the Colony Over-Sea we\nshould send none but those who have had a long period of training in\nthis country.  The bulk of those sent to the Provincial Farm would have\nhad some sort of trial in the different City Establishments.  We should\nonly draft them on to the Estate in small numbers, as we were prepared\nto deal with them, and I am quite satisfied that without the legal\nmethods of maintaining order that are acted upon so freely in\nworkhouses and other similar institutions, we should have as perfect\nobedience to Law, as great respect for authority, and as strong a\nspirit of kindness pervading all ranks throughout the whole of the\ncommunity as could be found in any other institution in the land.\n\nIt will be borne in mind that our Army system of government largely\nprepares us, if it does not qualify us, for this task.  Anyway, it\ngives us a good start.  All our people are trained in habits of\nobedience, and all our Officers are educated in the exercise of\nauthority.  The Officers throughout the Colony would be almost\nexclusively recruited from the ranks of the Army, and everyone of them\nwould go to the work, both theoretically and practically, familiar with\nthose principles which are the essence of good discipline.\n\nThen we can argue, and that very forcibly, from the actual experience\nwe have already had in dealing with this class.  Take our experience in\nthe Army itself.  Look at the order of our Soldiers.  Here are men and\nwomen, who have no temporal interest whatever at stake, receiving no\nremuneration, often sacrificing their earthly interests by their union\nwith us, and yet see how they fall into line, and obey orders in the\npromptest manner, even when such orders go right in the teeth of their\ntemporal interests.\n\n\"Yes,\" it will be replied by some, \"this is all very excellent so far\nas it relates to those who are altogether of your own way of thinking.\nYou can command them as you please, and they will obey, but what proof\nhave you given of your ability to control and discipline those who are\nnot of your way of thinking?\n\n\"You can do that with your Salvationists because they are saved, as you\ncall it.  When men are born again you can do anything with them.\nBut unless you convert all the denizens of Darkest England, what chance\nis there that they will be docile to your discipline?  If they were\nsoundly saved no doubt something might be done.  But they are not\nsaved, soundly or otherwise; they are lost.  What reason have you for\nbelieving that they will be amenable to discipline?\"\n\nI admit the force of this objection; but I have an answer, and an\nanswer which seems to me complete.  Discipline, and that of the most\nmerciless description, is enforced upon multitudes of these people even\nnow.  Nothing that the most authoritative organisation of industry\ncould devise in the excess of absolute power, could for a moment\ncompare with the slavery enforced to-day in the dens of the sweater.\nIt is not a choice between liberty and discipline that confronts these\nunfortunates, but between discipline mercilessly enforced by starvation\nand inspired by futile greed, and discipline accompanied with regular\nrations and administered solely for their own benefit.  What liberty is\nthere for the tailors who have to sew for sixteen to twenty hours a\nday, in a pest-hole, in order to earn ten shillings a week?\nThere is no discipline so brutal as that of the sweater; there is no\nslavery so relentless as that from which we seek to deliver the\nvictims.  Compared with their normal condition of existence, the most\nrigorous discipline which would be needed to secure the complete\nsuccess of any new individual organisation would be an escape from\nslavery into freedom.\n\nYou may reply, \"that it might be so, if people understood their own\ninterest.  But as a matter of fact they do not understand it, and that\nthey will never have sufficient far-sightedness to appreciate the\nadvantages that are offered them.\"\n\nTo this I answer, that here also I do not speak from theory.\nI lay before you the ascertained results of years of experience.\nMore than two years ago, moved by the misery and despair of the\nunemployed, I opened the Food and Shelter Depots in London already\ndescribed.  Here are a large number of men every night, many of them of\nthe lowest type of casuals who crawl about the streets, a certain\nproportion criminals, and about as difficult a class to manage as I\nshould think could be got together, and while there will be 200 of them\nin a single building night after night, from the first opening of the\ndoors in the evening until the last man has departed in the morning,\nthere shall scarcely be a word of dissatisfaction; anyway, nothing in\nthe shape of angry temper or bad language.  No policemen are required;\nindeed two or three nights' experience will be sufficient to turn the\nregular frequenters of the place of their own free will into Officers\nof Order, glad not only to keep the regulations of the place, but to\nenforce its discipline upon others.\n\nAgain, every Colonist, whether in the City or elsewhere, would know\nthat those who took the interests of the Colony to heart, were loyal to\nits authority and principles, and laboured industriously in promoting\nits interests, would be rewarded accordingly by promotion to positions\nof influence and authority, which would also carry with them temporal\nadvantages, present and prospective.\n\nBut one of our main hopes would be in the apprehension by the Colonists\nof the fact that all our efforts were put forth on their behalf.\nEvery man and woman on the place would know that this enterprise was\nbegun and carried on solely for their benefit, and that of the other\nmembers of their class, and that only their own good behaviour and\nco-operation would ensure their reaping a personal share in such\nbenefit.  Still our expectations would be largely based on the creation\nof a spirit of unselfish interest in the community.\n\nIX.  Again, it is objected that the Scheme is too vast to be attempted\nby voluntary enterprise; it ought to be taken up and carried out by the\nGovernment itself.\n\nPerhaps so, but there is no very near probability of Government\nundertaking it, and we are not quite sure whether such an attempt would\nprove a success if it were made.  But seeing that neither Governments,\nnor Society, nor individuals have stood forward to undertake what God\nhas made appear to us to be so vitally important a work, and as He has\ngiven us the willingness, and in many important senses the ability,\nwe are prepared, if the financial help is furnished, to make a\ndetermined effort, not only to undertake but to carry it forward to a\ntriumphant success.\n\nX.--It is objected that the classes we seek to benefit are too\nignorant and depraved for Christian effort, or for effort of any kind,\nto reach and reform.--\n\nLook at the tramps, the drunkards, the harlots, the criminals.\nHow confirmed they are in their idle and vicious habits.  It will be\nsaid, indeed has been already said by those with whom I have conversed,\nthat I don't know them; which statement cannot, I think, be maintained,\nfor if I don't know them, who does?\n\nI admit, however, that thousands of this class are very far gone from\nevery sentiment, principle and practice of right conduct.  But I argue\nthat these poor people cannot be much more unfavourable subjects for\nthe work of regeneration than are many of the savages and heathen\ntribes, in the conversion of whom Christians universally believe;\nfor whom they beg large sums of money, and to whom they send their best\nand bravest people.\n\nThese poor people are certainly embraced in the Divine plan of mercy.\nTo their class, the Saviour especially gave His attention when he was\non the earth, and for them He most certainly died on the Cross.\n\nSome of the best examples of Christian faith and practice, and some of\nthe most successful workers for the benefit of mankind, have sprung\nfrom this class, of which we have instances recorded in the Bible,\nand any number in the history of the Church and of the Salvation Army.\n\nIt may be objected that while this Scheme would undoubtedly assist one\nclass of the community by making steady, industrious workmen, it must\nthereby injure another class by introducing so many new hands into the\nlabour market, already so seriously overstocked.\n\nTo this we reply that there is certainly an appearance of force in this\nobjection; but it has, I think, been already answered in the foregoing\npages.  Further, if the increase of workers, which this Scheme will\ncertainly bring about, was the beginning and the end of it, it would\ncertainly present a somewhat serious aspect.  But, even on that\nsupposition, I don't see how the skilled worker could leave his\nbrothers to rot in their present wretchedness, though their rescue\nshould involve the sharing of a portion of his wages.\n\n(1) But there is no such danger, seeing that the number of extra\n    hands thrown on the British Labour Market must be necessarily\n    inconsiderable.\n\n(2) The increased production of food in our Farm and Colonial\n    operations must indirectly benefit the working man.\n\n(3) The taking out of the labour market of a large number of\n    individuals who at present have only partial work, while benefiting\n    them, must of necessity afford increased labour to those left\n    behind.\n\n(4) While every poor workless individual made into a wage earner will\n    of necessity have increased requirements in proportion.\n    For instance, the drunkard who has had to manage with a few bricks,\n    a soap box, and a bundle of rags, will want a chair, a table,\n    a bed, and at least the other necessary adjuncts to a furnished home,\n    however sparely fitted up it may be.\n\nThere is no question but that when our Colonisation Scheme is fairly\nafloat it will drain off, not only many of those who are in the morass,\nbut a large number who are on the verge of it.  Nay, even artisans,\nearning what are considered good wages, will be drawn by the desire to\nimprove their circumstances, or to raise their children under more\nfavourable surroundings, or from still nobler motives, to leave the old\ncountry.  Then it is expected that the agricultural labourer and the\nvillage artisan, who are ever migrating to the great towns and cities,\nwill give the preference to the Colony Over-Sea, and so prevent that\naccumulation of cheap labour which is considered to interfere so\nmaterially with the maintenance of a high wages standard.\n\n\nSECTION 5.  RECAPITULATION.\n\nI have now passed in review the leading features of the Scheme, which I\nput forward as one that is calculated to considerably contribute to the\namelioration of the condition of the lowest stratum of our Society.\nIt in no way professes to be complete in all its details.\nAnyone may at any point lay his finger on this, that, or the other\nfeature of the Scheme, and show some void that must be filled in if it\nis to work with effect.  There is one thing, however, that can be\nsafely said in excuse for the short comings of the Scheme, and that is\nthat if you wait until you get an ideally perfect plan you will have to\nwait until the Millennium, and then you will not need it.\nMy suggestions, crude though they may be, have, nevertheless, one\nelement that will in time supply all deficiencies.  There is life in\nthem, with life there is the promise and power of adaptation to all the\ninnumerable and varying circumstances of the class with which we have\nto deal.  Where there is life there is infinite power of adjustment.\nThis is no cast-iron Scheme, forged in a single brain and then set up\nas a standard to which all must conform.  It is a sturdy plant,\nwhich has its roots deep down in the nature and circumstances of men.\nNay, I believe in the very heart of God Himself.  It has already grown\nmuch, and will, if duly nurtured and tended, grow still further, until\nfrom it, as from the grain of mustard-seed in the parable, there shall\nspring up a great tree whose branches shall overshadow all the earth.\n\nOnce more let me say, I claim no patent rights in any part of this\nScheme.  Indeed, I do not know what in it is original and what is not.\nSince formulating some of the plans, which I had thought were new under\nthe sun, I have discovered that they have been already tried in\ndifferent parts of the world, and that with great promise.  It may be\nso with others, and in this I rejoice.  I plead for no exclusiveness.\nThe question is much too serious for such fooling as that.  Here are\nmillions of our fellow-creatures perishing amidst the breakers of the\nsea of life, dashed to pieces on sharp rocks, sucked under by eddying\nwhirlpools, suffocated even when they think they have reached land by\ntreacherous quicksands; to save them from this imminent destruction I\nsuggest that these things should be done.  If you have any better plan\nthan mine for effecting this purpose, in God's name bring it to the\nlight and get it carried out quickly.  If you have not, then lend me a\nhand with mine, as I would be only too glad to lend you a hand with\nyours if it had in it greater promise of successful action than mine.\n\nIn a Scheme for the working out of social salvation the great,\nthe only, test that is worth anything is the success with which they\nattain the object for which they are devised.  An ugly old tub of a\nboat that will land a shipwrecked sailor safe on the beach is worth\nmore to him than the finest yacht that ever left a slip-way incapable\nof effecting the same object.  The superfine votaries of culture may\nrecoil in disgust from the rough-and-ready suggestions which I have\nmade for dealing with the Sunken Tenth, but mere recoiling is no\nsolution.  If the cultured and the respectable and the orthodox and the\nestablished dignitaries and conventionalities of Society pass by on the\nother side we cannot follow their example.\n\nWe may not be priests and Levites, but we can at least play the part of\nthe Good Samaritan.  The man who went down to Jericho and fell among\nthieves was probably a very improvident, reckless individual, who ought\nto have known better than to go roaming alone through defiles haunted\nby banditti, whom he even led into temptation by the careless way in\nwhich he exposed himself and his goods to their avaricious gaze.\nIt was, no doubt, largely his own fault that he lay there bruised and\nsenseless, and ready to perish, just as it is largely the fault of\nthose whom we seek to help that they lie in the helpless plight in\nwhich we find them.  But for all that, let us bind up their wounds with\nsuch balm as we can procure, and, setting them on our ass, let us take\nthem to our Colony, where they may have time to recover, and once more\nset forth on the journey of life.\n\nAnd now, having said this much by way of reply to some of my critics,\nI will recapitulate the salient features of the Scheme.  I laid down at\nthe beginning certain points to be kept in view as embodying those\ninvariable laws or principles of political economy, without due regard\nto which no Scheme can hope for even a chance of success.\nSubject to these conditions, I think my Scheme will pass muster.\nIt is large enough to cope with the evils that will confront us;\nit is practicable, for it is already in course of application, and it\nis capable of indefinite expansion.  But it would be better to pass the\nwhole Scheme in its more salient features in review once more.\n\nThe Scheme will seek to convey benefit to the destitute classes in\nvarious ways altogether apart from their entering the Colonies.\nMen and women maybe very poor and in very great sorrow, nay, on the\nverge of actual starvation, and yet be so circumstanced as to be unable\nto enrol themselves in the Colonial ranks.  To these our cheap Food\nDepots, our Advice Bureau, Labour Shops, and other agencies will prove\nan unspeakable boon, and will be likely by such temporary assistance to\nhelp them out of the deep gulf in which they are struggling.\nThose who need permanent assistance will be passed on to the City\nColony, and taken directly under our control.  Here they will be\nemployed as before described.  Many will be sent off to friends;\nwork will be found for others in the City or elsewhere, while the great\nbulk, after reasonable testing as to their sincerity and willingness to\nassist in their own salvation, will be sent on to the Farm Colonies,\nwhere the same process of reformation and training will be continued,\nand unless employment is otherwise obtained they will then be passed on\nto the Over-Sea Colony.\n\nAll in circumstances of destitution, vice, or criminality will receive\ncasual assistance or be taken into the Colony, on the sole conditions\nof their being anxious for deliverance, and willing to work for it,\nand to conform to discipline, altogether irrespective of character,\nability, religious opinions, or anything else.\n\nNo benefit will be conferred upon any individual except under\nextraordinary circumstances, without some return being made in labour.\nEven where relatives and friends supply money to the Colonists,\nthe latter must take their share of work with their comrades.\nWe shall not have room for a single idler throughout all our borders.\n\nThe labour allotted to each individual will be chosen in view of his\npast employment or ability.  Those who have any knowledge of\nagriculture will naturally be put to work on the land; the shoemaker\nwill make shoes, the weaver cloth, and so on.  And when there is no\nknowledge of any handicraft, the aptitude of the individual and the\nnecessities of the hour will suggest the sort of work it would be most\nprofitable for such an one to learn.\n\nWork of all descriptions will be executed as far as possible by hand\nlabour.  The present rage for machinery has tended to produce much\ndestitution by supplanting hand labour so exclusively that the rush has\nbeen from the human to the machine.  We want, as far as is practicable,\nto travel back from the machine to the human.\n\nEach member of the Colony would receive food, clothing, lodging,\nmedicine, and all necessary care in case of sickness.\n\nNo wages would be paid, except a trifle by way of encouragement for\ngood behaviour and industry, or to those occupying positions of trust,\npart of which will be saved in view of exigencies in our Colonial Bank,\nand the remainder used for pocket money.\n\nThe whole Scheme of the three Colonies will for all practical purposes\nbe regarded as one; hence the training will have in view the\nqualification of the Colonists for ultimately earning their livelihood\nin the world altogether independently of our assistance, or, failing\nthis, fit them for taking some permanent work within our borders either\nat home or abroad.\n\nAnother result of this unity of the Town and Country Colonies will be\nthe removal of one of the difficulties ever connected with the disposal\nof the products of unemployed labour.  The food from the Farm would be\nconsumed by the City, while many of the things manufactured in the City\nwould be consumed on the Farm.\n\nThe continued effort of all concerned in the reformation of these\npeople will be to inspire and cultivate those habits, the want of which\nhas been so largely the cause of the destitution and vice of the past.\n\nStrict discipline, involving careful and continuous oversight, would be\nnecessary to the maintenance of order amongst so large a number of\npeople, many of whom had hitherto lived a wild and licentious life.\nOur chief reliance in this respect would be upon the spirit of mutual\ninterest that would prevail.\n\nThe entire Colony would probably be divided into sections, each under\nthe supervision of a sergeant--one of themselves--working side by\nside with them, yet responsible for the behaviour of all.\n\nThe chief Officers of the Colony would be individuals who had given\nthemselves to the work, not for a livelihood, but from a desire to be\nuseful to the suffering poor.  They would be selected at the outset\nfrom the Army, and that on the ground of their possessing certain\ncapabilities for the position, such as knowledge of the particular kind\nof work they had to superintend, or their being good disciplinarians\nand having the faculty for controlling men and being themselves\ninfluenced by a spirit of love.  Ultimately the Officers, we have no\ndoubt, would be, as is the case in all our other operations, men and\nwomen raised up from the Colonists themselves, and who will\nconsequently, possess some special qualifications for dealing with\nthose they have to superintend.  The Colonists will be divided into two\nclasses:  the 1st, the class which receives no wages will consist of: --\n\n(a) The new arrivals, whose ability, character, and habits are as yet\n    unknown.\n(b) The less capable in strength, mental calibre, or other capacity.\n(c) The indolent, and those whose conduct and character appeared\n    doubtful.  These would remain in this class, until sufficiently\n    improved for advancement, or are pronounced so hopeless as to\n    justify expulsion.\n\nThe 2nd class would have a small extra allowance, a part of which would\nbe given to the workers for private use, and a part reserved for future\ncontingencies, the payment of travelling expenses, etc.\nFrom this class we should obtain our petty officers, send out hired\nlabourers, emigrants, etc., etc.\n\nSuch is the Scheme as I have conceived it.  Intelligently applied, and\nresolutely persevered in, I cannot doubt that it will produce a great\nand salutary change in the condition of many of the most hopeless of\nour fellow countrymen.  Nor is it only our fellow countrymen to whom it\nis capable of application.  In its salient features, with such\nalterations as are necessary, owing to differences of climate and of\nrace, it is capable of adoption in every city in the world, for it is\nan attempt to restore to the masses of humanity that are crowded\ntogether in cities, the human and natural elements of life which they\npossessed when they lived in the smaller unit of the village or the\nmarket town.  Of the extent of the need there can be no question.\nIt is, perhaps, greatest in London, where the masses of population are\ndenser than those of any other city; but it exists equally in the chief\ncentres of population in the new Englands that have sprung up beyond\nthe sea, as well as in the larger cities of Europe.  It is a remarkable\nfact that up to the present moment the most eager welcome that has been\nextended to this Scheme reaches us from Melbourne, where our officers\nhave been compelled to begin operations by the pressure of public\nopinion and in compliance with the urgent entreaties of the Government\non one side and the leaders of the working classes on the other before\nthe plan had been elaborated, or instructions could be sent out for\ntheir guidance.\n\nIt is rather strange to hear of distress reaching starvation point in a\ncity like Melbourne, the capital of a great new country which teems\nwith natural wealth of every kind.  But Melbourne, too, has its\nunemployed, and in no city in the Empire have we been more successful\nin dealing with the social problem than in the capital of Victoria.\nThe Australian papers for some weeks back have been filled with reports\nof the dealings of the Salvation Army with the unemployed of Melbourne.\nThis was before the great Strike.  The Government of Victoria\npractically threw upon our officers the task of dealing with the\nunemployed.  The subject was debated in the House of Assembly,\nand at the close of the debate a subscription was taken up by one of\nthose who had been our most strenuous opponents, and a sum of #400\nwas handed over to our officers to dispense in keeping the starving\nfrom perishing.  Our people have found situations for no fewer than\n1,776 persons, and are dispensing meals at the rate of 700 a day.\nThe Government of Victoria has long been taking the lead in recognising\nthe secular uses of the Salvation Army.  The following letter addressed\nby the Minister of the Interior to the Officer charged with the\noversight of this part of our operations, indicates the estimation in\nwhich we are held: --\n\nGovernment of Victoria, Chief Secretary's Office,\nMelbourne.\n\nJuly 4th, 1889.\n\nSuperintendent Salvation Army Rescue Work.\n\nSir,--in compliance with your request for a letter of introduction\nwhich may be of use to you in England, I have much pleasure in stating\nfrom reports furnished by Officers of my Department, I am convinced\nthat the work you have been engaged on during the past six years has\nbeen of material advantage to the community.  You have rescued from\ncrime some who, but for the counsel and assistance rendered them, might\nhave been a permanent tax upon the State, and you have restrained from\nfurther criminal courses others who had already suffered legal\npunishment for their misdeeds.  It has given me pleasure to obtain from\nthe Executive Council authority for you to apprehend children found in\nBrothels, and to take charge of such children after formal committal.\nOf the great value of this branch of your work there can be no\nquestion.  It is evident that the attendance of yourself and your\nOfficers at the police-courts and lock-ups has been attended with\nbeneficial results, and your invitation to our largest jails has been\nhighly approved by the head of the Department.  Generally speaking,\nI may say that your policy and procedure have been commended by the\nChief Officers of the Government of this Colony, who have observed your\nwork.\n\nI have the honour to be, Sir, Your obedient Servant,\n\n(Signed)  ALFRED DEAKIN.\n\nThe Victorian Parliament has voted an annual grant to our funds,\nnot as a religious endowment, but in recognition of the service which\nwe render in the reclamation of criminals, and what may be called,\nif I may use a word which has been so depraved by Continental abuse,\nthe moral police of the city.  Our Officer in Melbourne has an official\nposition which opens to him almost every State institution and all the\nhaunts of vice where it may be necessary for him to make his way in the\nsearch for girls that have been decoyed from home or who have fallen\ninto evil courses.\n\nIt is in Victoria also that a system prevails of handing over first\noffenders to the care of the Salvation Army Officers, placing them in\nrecognizance to come up when called for.  An Officer of the Army\nattends at every Police Court, and the Prison Brigade is always on\nguard at the gaol doors when the prisoners are discharged.\nOur Officers also have free access to the prisons, where they can\nconduct services and labour with the inmates for their Salvation.\nAs Victoria is probably the most democratic of our colonies, and the\none in which the working-class has supreme control, the extent to which\nit has by its government recognised the value of our operations is\nsufficient to indicate that we have nothing to fear from the opposition\nof the democracy.  In the neighbouring colony of New South Wales a lady\nhas already given us a farm of three hundred acres fully stocked,\non which to begin operations with a Farm Colony, and there seems some\nprospect that the Scheme will get itself into active shape at the other\nend of the world before it is set agoing in London.  The eager welcome\nwhich has thus forced the initiative upon our Officers in Melbourne\ntends to encourage the expectation that the Scheme will be regarded as\nno quack application, but will be generally taken up and quickly set in\noperation all round the world.\n\n\nCHAPTER 8.  A PRACTICAL CONCLUSION.\n\nThroughout this book I have more constantly used the first personal\npronoun than ever before in anything I have written.  I have done this\ndeliberately, not from egotism, but in order to make it more clearly\nmanifest that here is a definite proposal made by an individual who is\nprepared, if the means are furnished him, to carry it out.  At the same\ntime I want it to be clearly understood that it is not in my own\nstrength, nor at my own charge, that I purpose to embark upon this\ngreat undertaking.  Unless God wills that I should work out the idea of\nwhich I believe He has given me the conception, nothing can come of any\nattempt at its execution but confusion, disaster, and disappointment.\nBut if it be His will--and whether it is or not, visible and manifest\ntokens will soon be forthcoming--who is there that can stand against it?\nTrusting in Him for guidance, encouragement, and support, I propose at\nonce to enter upon this formidable campaign.\n\nI do not run without being called.  I do not press forward to fill this\nbreach without being urgently pushed from behind.  Whether or not,\nI am called of God, as well as by the agonising cries of suffering men\nand women and children, He will make plain to me, and to us all;\nfor as Gideon looked for a sign before he, at the bidding of the\nheavenly messenger, undertook the leading of the chosen people against\nthe hosts of Midian, even so do I look for a sign.  Gideon's sign was\narbitrary.  He selected it.  He dictated his own terms; and out of\ncompassion for his halting faith, a sign was given to him, and that\ntwice over.  First, his fleece was dry when all the country round was\ndrenched with dew; and, secondly, his fleece was drenched with dew when\nall the country round was dry.\n\nThe sign for which I ask to embolden me to go forwards is single,\nnot double.  It is necessary and not arbitrary, and it is one which the\nveriest sceptic or the most cynical materialist will recognise as\nsufficient.  If I am to work out the Scheme I have outlined in this\nbook, I must have ample means for doing so.  How much would be required\nto establish this Plan of Campaign in all its fulness, overshadowing\nall the land with its branches laden with all manner of pleasant fruit,\nI cannot even venture to form a conception.  But I have a definite idea\nas to how much would be required to set it fairly in operation.\n\nWhy do I talk about commencing?  We have already begun, and that with\nconsiderable effect.  Our hand has been forced by circumstances.\nThe mere rumour of our undertaking reaching the Antipodes, as before\ndescribed, called forth such a demonstration of approval that my\nOfficers there were compelled to begin action without waiting orders\nfrom home.  In this country we have been working on the verge of the\ndeadly morass for some years gone by, and not without marvellous\neffect.  We have our Shelters, our Labour Bureau, our Factory,\nour Inquiry Officers, our Rescue Homes, our Slum Sisters, and other\nkindred agencies, all in good going order.  The sphere of these\noperations may be a limited one; still, what we have done already is\nample proof that when I propose to do much more I am not speaking\nwithout my book; and though the sign I ask for may not be given,\nI shall go struggling forward on the same lines; still, to seriously\ntake in hand the work which I have sketched out--to establish this\ntriple Colony, with all its affiliated agencies, I must have, at least,\na hundred thousand pounds.\n\nA hundred thousand pounds!  That is the dew on my fleece.  It is not\nmuch considering the money that is raised by my poor people for the\nwork of the Salvation Army.  The proceeds of the Self-denial Week alone\nlast year brought us in #20,000.  This year it will not fall short of\n#25,000.  If our poor people can do so much out of their poverty,\nI do not think I am making an extravagant demand when I ask that out of\nthe millions of the wealth of the world I raise, as a first instalment,\na hundred thousand pounds, and say that I cannot consider myself\neffectually called to undertake this work unless it is forthcoming.\n\nIt is in no spirit of dictation or arrogance that I ask the sign.\nIt is a necessity.  Even Moses could not have taken the Children of\nIsrael dry-shod through the Red Sea unless the waves had divided.\n\nThat was the sign which marked out his duty, aided his faith,\nand determined his action.  The sign which I seek is somewhat similar.\nMoney is not everything.  It is not by any means the main thing.\nMidas, with all his millions, could no more do the work than he could\nwin the battle of Waterloo, or hold the Pass of Thermopylae.\nBut the millions of Midas are capable of accomplishing great and mighty\nthings, if they be sent about doing good under the direction of Divine\nwisdom and Christ-like love.\n\nHow hardly shall they that have riches enter into the Kingdom of\nHeaven!  It is easier to make a hundred poor men sacrifice their lives\nthan it is to induce one rich man to sacrifice his fortune, or even a\nportion of it, to a cause in which, in his half-hearted fashion,\nhe seems to believe.  When I look over the roll of men and women who\nhave given up friends, parents, home prospects, and everything they\npossess in order to walk bare-footed beneath a burning sun in distant\nIndia, to live on a handful of rice, and die in the midst of the dark\nheathen for God and the Salvation Army, I sometimes marvel how it is\nthat they should be so eager to give up all, even life itself, in a\ncause which has not power enough in it to induce any reasonable number\nof wealthy men to give to it the mere superfluities and luxuries of\ntheir existence.  From those to whom much is given much is expected;\nbut, alas, alas, how little is realised!  It is still the widow who\ncasts her all into the Lord's treasury--the wealthy deem it a\npreposterous suggestion when we allude to the Lord's tithe, and count\nit boredom when we ask only for the crumbs that fall from their tables.\n\nThose who have followed me thus far will decide for themselves to what\nextent they ought to help me to carry out this Project, or whether they\nought to help me at all.  I do not think that any sectarian differences\nor religious feelings whatever ought to be imported into this question.\nSupposing you do not like my Salvationism, surely it is better for\nthese miserable, wretched crowds to have food to eat, clothes to wear,\nand a home in which to lay their weary bones after their day's toil is\ndone, even though the change is accompanied by some peculiar religious\nnotions and practices, than it would be for them to be hungry,\nand naked, and homeless, and possess no religion at all.  It must be\ninfinitely preferable that they should speak the truth, and be\nvirtuous, industrious, and contented, even if they do pray to God,\nsing Psalms, and go about with red jerseys, fanatically, as you call\nit, \"seeking for the millennium\"--than that they should remain\nthieves or harlots, with no belief in God at all, a burden to the\nMunicipality, a curse to Society, and a danger to the State.\n\nThat you do not like the Salvation Army, I venture to say, is no\njustification for withholding your sympathy and practical co-operation\nin carrying out a Scheme which promises so much blessedness to your\nfellow-men.  You may not like our government, our methods, our faith.\nYour feeling towards us might perhaps be duly described by an\nobservation that slipped unwittingly from the tongue of a somewhat\ncelebrated leader in the evangelistic world sometime ago, who,\nwhen asked what he thought of the Salvation Army, replied that\n\"He did not like it at all, but he believed that God Almighty did.\"\nPerhaps, as an agency, we may not be exactly of your way of thinking,\nbut that is hardly the question.  Look at that dark ocean, full of\nhuman wrecks, writhing in anguish and despair.  How to rescue those\nunfortunates is the question.  The particular character of the methods\nemployed, the peculiar uniforms worn by the lifeboat crew, the noises\nmade by the rocket apparatus, and the mingled shoutings of the rescued\nand the rescuers, may all be contrary to your taste and traditions.\nBut all these objections and antipathies, I submit, are as nothing\ncompared with the delivering of the people out of that dark sea.\n\nIf among my readers there be any who have the least conception that\nthis scheme is put forward by me from any interested motives by all\nmeans let them refuse to contribute even by a single penny to what\nwould be, at least, one of the most shameless of shams.  There may be\nthose who are able to imagine that men who have been literally martyred\nin this cause have faced their death for the sake of the paltry coppers\nthey collected to keep body and soul together.  Such may possibly find\nno difficulty in persuading themselves that this is but another attempt\nto raise money to augment that mythical fortune which I, who never yet\ndrew a penny beyond mere out-of-pocket expenses from the Salvation Army\nfunds, am supposed to be accumulating.  From all such I ask only the\ntribute of their abuse, assured that the worst they say of me is too\nmild to describe the infamy of my conduct if they are correct in this\ninterpretation of my motives.\n\nThere appears to me to be only two reasons that will justify any man,\nwith a heart in his bosom, in refusing to co-operate with me in this\nScheme: --\n\n1. That he should have an honest and intelligent conviction that it\n   cannot be carried out with any reasonable measure of success; or,\n\n2. That he (the objector) is prepared with some other plan which will\n   as effectually accomplish the end it contemplates.\n\nLet me consider the second reason first.  If it be that you have some\nplan that promises more directly to accomplish the deliverance of these\nmultitudes than mine, I implore you at once to bring it out.\nLet it see the light of day.  Let us not only hear your theory,\nbut see the evidences which prove its practical character and assure\nits success.  If your plan will bear investigation, I shall then\nconsider you to be relieved from the obligation to assist me--nay,\nif after full consideration of your plan I find it better than mine,\nI will give up mine, turn to, and help you with all my might.\nBut if you have nothing to offer, I demand your help in the name of\nthose whose cause I plead.\n\nNow, then, for your first objection, which I suppose can be expressed\nin one word--\"impossible.\"  This, if well founded, is equally fatal to\nmy proposals.  But, in reply, I may say--How do you know?\nHave you inquired?  I will assume that you have read the book, and duly\nconsidered it.  Surely you would not dismiss so important a theme\nwithout some thought.  And though my arguments may not have sufficient\nweight to carry conviction, you must admit them to be of sufficient\nimportance to warrant investigation.  Will you therefore come and see\nfor yourself what has been done already, or, rather, what we are doing\nto-day.  Failing this, will you send someone capable of judging on your\nbehalf.  I do not care very much whom you send.  It is true the things\nof the Spirit are spiritually discerned, but the things of humanity any\nman can judge, whether saint or sinner, if he only possess average\nintelligence and ordinary bowels of compassion.\n\nI should, however, if I had a choice, prefer an investigator who has\nsome practical knowledge of social economics, and much more should I be\npleased if he had spent some of his own time and a little of his own\nmoney in trying to do the work himself.  After such investigation I am\nconfident there could be only one result.\n\nThere is one more plea I have to offer to those who might seek to\nexcuse themselves from rendering any financial assistance to the\nScheme.  Is it not worthy at least of being tried as an experiment?\nTens of thousands of pounds are yearly spent in \"trying\" for minerals,\nboring for coals, sinking for water, and I believe there are those who\nthink it worth while, at an expenditure of hundreds of thousands of\npounds, to experiment in order to test the possibility of making a\ntunnel under the sea between this country and France.  Should these\nadventurers fail in their varied operations, they have, at least, the\nsatisfaction of knowing, though hundreds of thousands of pounds have\nbeen expended, that they have not been wasted, and they will not\ncomplain; because they have at least attempted the accomplishment of\nthat which they felt ought to be done; and it must be better to attempt\na duty, though we fail, than never to attempt it at all.  In this book\nwe do think we have presented a sufficient reason to justify the\nexpenditure of the money and effort involved in the making of this\nexperiment.  And though the effort should not terminate in the grand\nsuccess which I so confidently predict, and which we all must so\nardently desire, still there is bound to be, not only the satisfaction\nof having attempted some sort of deliverance for these wretched people,\nbut certain results which will amply repay every farthing expended in\nthe experiment.\n\nI am now sixty-one years of age.  The last eighteen months, during\nwhich the continual partner of all my activities for now nearly forty\nyears has laid in the arms of unspeakable suffering, has added more\nthan many many former ones, to the exhaustion of my term of service.\nI feel already something of the pressure which led the dying Emperor of\nGermany to say, \"I have no time to be weary.\"  If I am to see the\naccomplishment in any considerable degree of these life-long hopes,\nI must be enabled to embark up on the enterprise without delay, and\nwith the world-wide burden constantly upon me in connection with the\nuniversal mission of our Army I cannot be expected to struggle in this\nmatter alone.\n\nBut I trust that the upper and middle classes are at last being\nawakened out of their long slumber with regard to the permanent\nimprovement of the lot of those who have hitherto been regarded as\nbeing for ever abandoned and hopeless.  Shame indeed upon England if,\nwith the example presented to us nowadays by the Emperor and Government\nof Germany, we simply shrug our shoulders, and pass on again to our\nbusiness or our pleasure leaving these wretched multitudes in the\ngutters where they have lain so long.  No, no, no; time is short.\nLet us arise in the name of God and humanity, and wipe away the sad\nstigma from the British banner that our horses are better treated than\nour labourers.\n\nIt will be seen that this Scheme contains many branches.\nIt is probable that some of my readers may not be able to endorse the\nplan as a whole, while heartily approving of some of its features and\nto the support of what they do not heartily approve they may not be\nwilling to subscribe.  Where this is so, we shall be glad for them to\nassist us in carrying out those portions of the undertaking which more\nespecially command their sympathy and commend themselves to their\njudgment.  For instance, one man may believe in the Over-Sea Colony,\nbut feel no interest in the Inebriates' Home; another, who may not care\nfor emigration, may desire to furnish a Factory or Rescue Home; a third\nmay wish to give us an estate, assist in the Food and Shelter work, or\nthe extension of the Slum Brigade.  Now, although I regard the Scheme\nas one and indivisible--from which you cannot take away any portion\nwithout impairing the prospect of the whole--it is quite practicable\nto administer the money subscribed so that the wishes of each donor may\nbe carried out.  Subscriptions may, therefore, be sent in for the\ngeneral fund of the Social Scheme, or they can be devoted to any of the\nfollowing distinct funds: --\n\n 1.  The City Colony.\n 2.  The Farm Colony.\n 3.  The Colony Over-sea.\n 4.  The Household Salvage Brigade.\n 5.  The Rescue Homes for Fallen Women.\n 6.  Deliverance for the Drunkard.\n 7.  The Prison Gate Brigade.\n 8.  The Poor Man's Bank.\n 9.  The Poor Man's Lawyer.\n 10. Whitechapel-by-the-Sea.\n\nOr any other department suggested by the foregoing.  In making this\nappeal I have, so far, addressed myself chiefly to those who have\nmoney; but money, indispensable as it is, has never been the thing most\nneedful.  Money is the sinews of war; and, as society is at present\nconstituted, neither carnal nor spiritual wars can be carried on\nwithout money.  But there is something more necessary still.\nWar cannot be waged without soldiers.  A Wellington can do far more in\na campaign than a Rothschild.  More than money--a long, long way--\nI want men; and when I say men, I mean women also--men of experience,\nmen of brains, men of heart, and men of God.\n\nIn this great expedition, though I am starting for territory which is\nfamiliar enough, I am, in a certain sense, entering an unknown land.\nMy people will be new at it.  We have trained our soldiers to the\nsaving of souls, we have taught them Knee-drill, we have instructed\nthem in the art and mystery of dealing with the consciences and hearts\nof men; and that will ever continue the main business of their lives.\n\nTo save the soul, to regenerate the life, and to inspire the spirit\nwith the undying love of Christ is the work to which all other duties\nmust ever be strictly subordinate in the Soldiers of the Salvation\nArmy.  But the new sphere on which we are entering will call for\nfaculties other than those which have hitherto been cultivated,\nand for knowledge of a different character; and those who have these\ngifts, and who are possessed of this practical information, will be\nsorely needed.\n\nAlready our world-wide Salvation work engrosses the energies of every\nOfficer whom we command.  With its extension we have the greatest\ndifficulty to keep pace; and, when this Scheme has to be practically\ngrappled with, we shall be in greater straits than ever.  True, it will\nfind employment for a multitude of energies and talents which are now\nlying dormant, but, nevertheless, this extension will tax our resources\nto the very utmost.  In view of this, reinforcements will be\nindispensable.  We shall need the best brains, the largest experience,\nand the most undaunted energy of the community.\n\nI want Recruits, but I cannot soften the conditions in order to attract\nmen to the Colours.  I want no comrades on these terms, but those who\nknow our rules and are prepared to submit to our discipline:  who are\none with us on the great principles which determine our action,\nand whose hearts are in this great work for the amelioration of the\nhard lot of the lapsed and lost.  These I will welcome to the service.\n\nIt may be that you cannot deliver an open-air address, or conduct an\nindoor meeting.  Public labour for souls has hitherto been outside your\npractice.  In the Lord's vineyard, however, are many labourers,\nand all are not needed to do the same thing.  If you have a practical\nacquaintance with any of the varied operations of which I have spoken\nin this book; if you are familiar with agriculture, understand the\nbuilding trade, or have a practical knowledge of almost any form of\nmanufacture, there is a place for you.\n\nWe cannot offer you great pay, social position, or any glitter and\ntinsel of man's glory; in fact, we can promise little more than\nrations, plenty of hard work, and probably no little of worldly scorn;\nbut if on the whole you believe you can in no other way help your Lord\nso well and bless humanity so much, you will brave the opposition of\nfriends, abandon earthly prospects, trample pride under foot, and come\nout and follow Him in this New Crusade.\n\nTo you who believe in the remedy here proposed, and the soundness of\nthese plans, and have the ability to assist me, I now confidently\nappeal for practical evidence of the faith that is in you.\nThe responsibility is no longer mine alone.  It is yours as much as\nmine.  It is yours even more than mine if you withhold the means by\nwhich I may carry out the Scheme.  I give what I have.\nIf you give what you have the work will be done.  If it is not done,\nand the dark river of wretchedness rolls on, as wide and deep as ever,\nthe consequences will lie at the door of him who holds back.\n\nI am only one man among my fellows, the same as you.  The obligation to\ncare for these lost and perishing multitudes does not rest on me any\nmore than it does on you.  To me has been given the idea, but to you\nthe means by which it may be realised.  The Plan has now been published\nto the world; it is for you to say whether it is to remain barren,\nor whether it is to bear fruit in unnumbered blessings to all the\nchildren of men.\n\n\nAPPENDIX\n\n1. The Salvation Army--A Sketch--The Position of the Forces,\n   October, 1890.\n\n2. Circular, Registration Forms, and Notices now issued by the\n   Labour Bureau.\n\n3. Count Rumford's Bavarian Experience.\n\n4. The Co-operative Experiment at Ralahine.\n\n5. Mr Carlyle on the Regimenation of the Out-of-Works.\n\n6. \"Christianity and Civilization,\" by the Rev. Dr. Barry.\n\n\nTHE SALVATION ARMY\n\nThe position of our forces.  October, 1890.\n\n                      Corps  or     Outposts     Officers or persons\n                      Societies                  wholly engaged in\n                                                 the work.\n\nThe United Kingdom ...  1375           ---          4506\n\nFrance   ...  ... )      106            72           352\nSwitzerland   ... )\n\nSweden   ...  ...  ...   103            41           328\n\nUnited States ...  ...   363            57          1066\n\nCanada   ...  ...  ...   317            78          1021\n\nAustralia--\n  Victoria ...  ...)\n  South Australia  )\n  New South Wales  )     270           465           903\n  Tasmania ...  ...)\n  Queensland    ...)\n\nNew Zeland ...  ...       65            99           186\n\nIndia ...  ...  ...)      80            51           419\nCeylon     ...  ...)\n\nHolland    ...  ...       40             8           131\n\nDenmark    ...  ...       33            --            87\n\nNorway     ...  ...       45             7           132\n\nGermany    ...  ...       16             6            75\n\nBelgium    ...  ...        4            --            21\n\nFinland    ...  ...        3            --            12\n\nThe Argentine Republic     2            --            15\n\nSouth Africa & St Helena  52            12           162\n                        ----          ----          ----\n      Total abroad      1499           896          4910\n                        ----          ----          ----\n      Grand total       2874           896          9416\n\n\nTHE SUPPLY (\"TRADE\") DEPARTMENT    At Home.     Abroad\n\nBuildings occupied ...  ...  ...      8            22\n\nOfficers ...  ...  ...  ...  ...     53            15\n\nEmployes ...  ...  ...  ...  ...    207            55\n                                    ---           ---\n                           Total    260            70\n\n\nTHE PROPERTY DEPARTMENT.\n\nProperty now Vested in the Army;--\n\nThe United Kingdom  ...  ...  ...  #377,500\n\nFrance and Switzerland   ...  ...    10,000\n\nSweden    ...  ...  ...  ...  ...    13,598\n\nNorway    ...  ...  ...  ...  ...    11,676\n\nThe United States   ...  ...  ...     6,601\n\nCanada    ...  ...  ...  ...  ...    98,728\n\nAustralia ...  ...  ...  ...  ...    86,251\n\nNew Zealand    ...  ...  ...  ...    14,798\n\nIndia     ...  ...  ...  ...  ...     5,537\n\nHolland   ...  ...  ...  ...  ...     7,188\n\nDenmark   ...  ...  ...  ...  ...     2,340\n\nSouth Africa   ...  ...  ...  ...    10,401\n                                   --------\n                         Total     #644,618\n                                   --------\n\nValue of trade effects, stock, machinery, and goods on hand,\n#130,000 additional.\n\n\nSOCIAL WORK OF THE ARMY.\n\nRescue homes (fallen women) ...  ...  33\nSlum Posts   ...  ...  ...  ...  ...  33\nPrison Gate Brigades   ...  ...  ...  10\nFood Depots  ...  ...  ...  ...  ...   4\nShelters for the Destitute  ...  ...   5\nInebriates Home   ...  ...  ...  ...   1\nFactory for the \"out of work\"    ...   1\nLabour Bureaux    ...  ...  ...  ...   2\n\nOfficers and others managing those branches  384\n\n\nSALVATION AND SOCIAL REFORM LITERATURE\n\n                      At home.    Abroad      Circulation\nWeekly Newspapers ...    3          24          31,000,000\nMonthly Magazines ...    3          12           2,400,000\n                        --         ---         -----------\n               Total     6          36          33,400,000\n                        --         ---         -----------\n\n\nTotal annual circulation of the above           33,400,000\nTotal annual circulation of other publications   4,000,000\n                                               -----------\nTotal annual circulation of Army literature     37,400,000\n                                               -----------\n\nThe United Kingdom--\n\n\"The War Cry\"         300,000 weekly\n\"The Young Soldier\"   126,750 weekly\n\"All the World\"        50,000 monthly\n\"The Deliverer\"        48,000 monthly\n\n\nGENERAL STATEMENTS AND STATISTICS.\n                                     Accommodation   Annual cost.\nTraining Garrisons for Officers\n                 (United Kingdom)   28                #11,500\n                 (Abroad)           38      760\n\nLarge Vans for Evangelising the Villages\n        (known as Cavalry Forts)\n\nHomes of Rest for Officers          24      240        10,000\n\nIndoor Meetings, held weekly             28,351\n\nOpen-air Meetings held weekly\n    (chiefly in England and Colonies)    21,467\n                                        -------\nTotal Meetings held weekly               49,818\n                                        -------\n\nNumber of Houses visited weekly\n    (Great Britain only)                 54,000\n\nNumber of Countries and Colonies occupied\n\nNumber of Languages in which Literature is issued     15\n\nNumber of Languages in which Salvation is preached\nby the Officers                                       29\n\nNumber of Local (Non-Commissioned Officers)\nand Bandsman                                      23,069\n\nNumber of Scribes and Office Employes                471\n\nAverage weekly reception of telegrams, 600\nand letters, 5,400 at the London Headquarters\n\nSum raised annually from all sources by the Army  #750,000\n\nBalance Sheets, duly audited by chartered accountants, are issued\nannually in connection with the International Headquarters.\nSee the Annual Report of 1889--\"Apostolic Warfare.\"\n\nBalance Sheets are also produced quarterly at every Corps in the world,\naudited and signed by the Local Officers. Divisional Balance Sheets\nissued monthly and audited by a Special Department at Headquarters.\n\nDuly and independently audited Balance Sheets are also issued annually\nfrom every Territorial Headquarters.\n\n\nTHE AUXILIARY LEAGUE.\n\n1.--Of persons who, without necessarily endorsing or approving of\nevery single method used by thee Salvation Army, are sufficiently in\nsympathy with its great work of reclaiming drunkards, rescuing the\nfallen--in a word, saving the lost--as to give it their PRAYERS,\nINFLUENCE, AND MONEY.\n\n2.--Of persons who, although seeing eye to eye with the Army, yet are\nunable to join it, owing to being actively engaged in the work of their\nown denominations, or by reason of bad health or other infirmities,\nwhich forbid their taking any active part in Christian work.\nPersons are enrolled either as Subscribing or Collecting Auxiliaries.\n\nThe League comprises persons of influence and position, members of\nnearly all denominations, and many ministers.\n\nPAMPHLETS.--Auxiliaries will always be supplied gratis with copies of\nour Annual Report and Balance Sheet and other pamphlets for\ndistribution on application to Headquarters.  Some of our Auxiliaries\nhave materially helped us in this way by distributing our literature at\nthe seaside and elsewhere, and by making arrangements for the regular\nsupply of waiting rooms, hydropathics, and hotels, thus helping to\ndispel the prejudice under which many persons unacquainted with the\nArmy are found to labour.\n\n\"All The World\" posted free regularly each month to Auxiliaries.\n\nFor further information, and for full particulars of the work of The\nSalvation Army, apply personally or by letter to GENERAL BOOTH,.\nor to the Financial Secretary at International Headquarters,\n101, Queen Victoria St., London, E.C., to whom also contributions\nshould be sent.\n\nCheques and Postal Orders crossed \"City Bank.\"\n\n\nTHE SALVATION ARMY:  A SKETCH.\n\nBY AN OFFICER OF SEVENTEEN YEARS' STANDING.  What is the Salvation Army?\n\nIt is an Organisation existing to effect a radical revolution in the\nspiritual condition of the enormous majority of the people of all\nlands.  Its aim is to produce a change not only in the opinions,\nfeelings, and principles of these vast populations, but to alter the\nwhole course of their lives, so that instead of spending their time in\nfrivolity and pleasure-seeking, if not in the grossest forms of vice,\nthey shall spend it in the service of their generation and in the\nworship of God.  So far it has mainly operated in professedly Christian\ncountries, where the overwhelming majority of the people have ceased,\npublicly, at any rate, to worship Jesus Christ, or to submit themselves\nin any way to His authority.  To what extent has the Army succeeded?\n\nIts flag is now flying in 34 countries or colonies, where under the\nleadership of nearly 10,000 men and women, whose lives are entirely\ngiven up to the work, it is holding some 49,800 religious meetings\nevery week, attended by millions of persons, who ten years ago would\nhave laughed at the idea of praying.\n\nAnd these operations are but the means for further extension,\nas will be seen, especially when it is remembered that the Army has\nits 27 weekly newspapers, of which no less than 31,000,000 copies are\nsold in the streets, public houses, and popular resorts of the\ngodless majority.  From its, ranks it is therefore certain that an\never-increasing multitude of men and women must eventually be won.\n\nThat all this has not amounted to the creation of a mere passing gust\nof feeling, may best be demonstrated perhaps from the fact that the\nArmy has accumulated no less than #775,000 worth of property,\npays rentals amounting to #220,000 per annum for its meeting places,\nand has a total income from all sources of three-quarters of a million\nper annum.  Now consider from whence all this has sprung.\nIt is only twenty-five years since the author of this volume stood\nabsolutely alone in the East of London, to endeavour to Christianise\nits irreligious multitudes, without the remotest conception in his own\nmind of the possibility of any such Organisation being created.\n\nConsider, moreover, through what opposition the Salvation Army has ever\nhad to make its way.\n\nIn each country it has to face universal prejudice, distrust,\nand contempt, and often stronger antipathy still.  This opposition has\ngenerally found expression in systematic, Governmental, and Police\nrestriction, followed in too many cases by imprisonment, and by the\ncondemnatory outpourings of Bishops, Clergy, Pressmen and others,\nnaturally followed in too many instances by the oaths and curses,\nthe blows and insults of the populace.  Through all this, in country\nafter country, the Army makes its way to the position of universal\nrespect, that respect, at any rate, which is shown to those who have\nconquered.  And of what material has this conquering host been made?\nWherever the Army goes it gathers into its meetings, in the first\ninstance, a crowd of the most debased, brutal, blasphemous elements\nthat can be found who, if permitted, interrupt the services,\nand if they see the slightest sign of police tolerance for their\nmisconduct, frequently fall upon the Army officers or their property\nwith violence.  Yet a couple of Officers face such an audience with the\nabsolute certainty of recruiting out of it an Army Corps.\nMany thousands of those who are now most prominent in the ranks of the\nArmy never knew what it was to pray before they attended its services;\nand large numbers of them had settled into a profound conviction that\neverything connected with religion was utterly false.  It is out of such\nmaterial that God has constructed what is admitted to be one of the\nmost fervid bodies of believers ever seen on the face of the earth.\n\nMany persons in looking at the progress of the Army have shown a\nstrange want of discernment in talking and writing as though all this\nhad been done in a most haphazard fashion, or as though an individual\ncould by the mere effort of his will produce such changes in the lives\nof others as he chose.  The slightest reflection will be sufficient we\nare sure to convince any impartial individual that the gigantic results\nattained by the Salvation Army could only be reached by steady\nunaltering processes adapted to this end.  And what are the processes by\nwhich this great Army has been made?\n\n1. The foundation of all the Army's success, looked at apart from its\ndivine source of strength, is its continued direct attack upon those\nwhom it seeks to bring under the influence of the Gospel.\nThe Salvation Army Officer, instead of standing upon some dignified\npedestal, to describe the fallen condition of his fellow men, in the\nhope that though far from him, they may thus, by some mysterious\nprocess, come to a better life, goes down into the street, and from\ndoor to door, and from room to room, lays his hands on those who are\nspiritually sick, and leads them to the Almighty Healer.  In its forms of\nspeech and writing the Army constantly exhibits this same characteristic.\nInstead of propounding religious theories or pretending to teach a\nsystem of theology, it speaks much after the fashion of the old Prophet\nor Apostle, to each individual, about his or her sin and duty, thus\nbringing to bear upon each heart and conscience the light and power\nfrom heaven, by which alone the world can be transformed.\n\n2. And step by step, along with this human contact goes unmistakably\nsomething that is not human.\n\nThe puzzlement and self-contradiction of most critics of the Army\nsprings undoubtedly from the fact that they are bound to account for\nits success without admitting that any superhuman power attends its\nministry, yet day after day, and night after night, the wonderful facts\ngo on multiplying.  The man who last night was drunk in a London slum,\nis to-night standing up for Christ on an Army platform.  The clever\nsceptic, who a few weeks ago was interrupting the speakers in Berlin,\nand pouring contempt upon their claims to a personal knowledge of the\nunseen Saviour, is to-day as thorough a believer as any of them.\nThe poor girl, lost to shame and hope, who a month ago was an outcast\nof Paris, is to-day a modest devoted follower of Christ, working in a\nhumble situation.  To those who admit we are right in saying\n\"this is the Lord's doing,\" all is simple enough, and our certainty\nthat the dregs of Society can become its ornaments requires no further\nexplanation.\n\n3. All these modern miracles would, however, have been comparatively\nuseless but for the Army's system of utilising the gifts and energy of\nour converts to the uttermost.  Suppose that without any claim to Divine\npower the Army had succeeded in raising up tens of thousands of\npersons, formerly unknown and unseen in the community, and made them\ninto Singers, Speakers, Musicians, and Orderlies, that would surely in\nitself have been a remarkable fact.  But not only have these engaged in\nvarious labours for the benefit of the community.  They have been filled\nwith a burning ambition to attain the highest possible degree of\nusefulness.  No one can wonder that we expect to see the same process\ncarried on successfully amongst our new friends of the Casual Ward and\nthe Slum.  And if the Army has been able to accomplish all this\nutilisation of human talents for the highest purposes, in spite of an\nalmost universally prevailing contrary practice amongst the Churches,\nwhat may not its Social Wing be expected to do, with the example of the\nArmy before it?\n\n4. The maintenance of all this system has, of course, been largely due\nto the unqualified acceptance of military government and discipline.\nBut for this we cannot be blind to the fact that even in our own ranks\ndifficulties would every day arise as to the exaltation to front seats\nof those who were formerly persecutors and injurious.  The old feeling\nwhich would have kept Paul suspected, in the background, after his\nconversion is, unfortunately, a part of the conservative groundwork of\nhuman nature that continues to exist everywhere, and which has to be\novercome by rigid discipline in order to secure that everywhere and\nalways, the new convert should be made the most of for Christ.\nBut our Army system is a great indisputable fact, so much so that our\nenemies sometimes reproach us with it.  That it should be possible to\ncreate an Army Organisation, and to secure faithful execution of duty\ndaily is indeed a wonder, but a wonder accomplished, just as completely\namongst the Republicans of America and France, as amongst the\nmilitarily trained Germans, or the subjects of the British monarchy.\nIt is notorious that we can send an officer from London, possessed of\nno extraordinary ability, to take command of any corps in the world,\nwith a certainty that he will find soldiers eager to do his bidding,\nand without a thought of disputing his commands, so long as he\ncontinues faithful to the orders and regulations under which his men\nare enlisted.\n\n5. But those show a curious ignorance who set down our successes to\nthis discipline, as though it were something of the prison order,\nalthough enforced without any of the power lying either behind the\nprison warder or the Catholic priest.  On the contrary, wherever the\ndiscipline of the Army has been endangered, and its regular success for\na time interrupted, it has been through an attempt to enforce it\nwithout enough of that joyous, cheerful spirit of love which is its\nmain spring.  Nobody can become acquainted with our soldiers in any\nland, without being almost immediately struck with their extraordinary\ngladness, and this joy is in itself one of the most infectious and\ninfluential elements of the Army's success.  But if this be so, amid the\ncomparatively well to do, judge of what its results are likely to be\namongst the poorest and most wretched!  To those who have never known\nbright days, the mere sight of a happy face is as it were a revelation\nand inspiration in one.\n\n6. But the Army's success does not come with magical rapidity;\nit depends, like that of all real work, upon infinite perseverance.\n\nTo say nothing of the perseverance of the Officer who has made the\nsaving of men his life work, and who, occupied and absorbed with this\ngreat pursuit, may naturally enough be expected to remain faithful,\nthere are multitudes of our Soldiers who, after a hard day's toil for\ntheir daily bread, have but a few hours of leisure, but devote it\nungrudgingly to the service of the War.  Again and again, when the\nremains of some Soldier are laid to rest, amid the almost universal\nrespect of a town, which once knew him only as an evil-doer, we hear it\nsaid that this man, since the date of his conversion, from five to ten\nyears ago, has seldom been absent from his post, and never without good\nreason for it.  His duty may have been comparatively insignificant,\n\"only a door-keeper,\" \"only a War Cry seller,\" yet Sunday after Sunday,\nevening after evening, he would be present, no matter who the\ncommanding officer might be, to do his part, bearing with the unruly,\nbreathing hope into the distressed, and showing unwavering faithfulness\nto all.  The continuance of these processes of mercy depends largely\nupon leadership, and the creation and maintenance of this leadership\nhas been one of the marvels of the Movement.  We have men to-day looked\nup to and reverenced over wide areas of country, arousing multitudes to\nthe most devoted service, who a few years ago were champions of\niniquity, notorious in nearly every form of vice, and some of them\nringleaders in violent opposition to the Army.  We have a right to\nbelieve that on the same lines God is going to raise up just such\nleaders without measure and without end.\n\nBeneath, behind, and pervading all the successes of the Salvation Army\nis a force against which the world may sneer, but without which the\nworld's miseries cannot be removed, the force of that Divine love which\nbreathed on Calvary, and which God is able to communicate by His spirit\nto human hearts to-day.\n\nIt is pitiful to see intelligent men attempting to account, without the\nadmission of this great fact, for the self-sacrifice and success of\nSalvation Officers and Soldiers.  If those who wish to understand the\nArmy would only take the trouble to spend as much as twenty-four hours\nwith its people, how different in almost every instance would be the\nconclusions arrived at.  Half-an-hour spent in the rooms inhabited by\nmany of our officers would be sufficient to convince, even a well-to-do\nworking man, that life could not be lived happily in such circumstances\nwithout some superhuman power, which alike sustains and gladdens the\nsoul, altogether independently of earthly surroundings.\n\nThe Scheme that has been propounded in this volume would, we are quite\nsatisfied, have no chance of success were it not for the fact that we\nhave such a vast supply of men and women who, through the love of\nChrist ruling in their hearts, are prepared to look upon a life of\nself-sacrificing effort for the benefit of the vilest and roughest as\nthe highest of privileges.  With such a force at command, we dare to say\nthat the accomplishment of this stupendous undertaking is a foregone\nconclusion, if the material assistance which the Army does not possess\nis forthcoming.\n\n\nTHE SALVATION ARMY SOCIAL REFORM WING.\n\nTemporary Headquarters 36, UPPER THAMES STREET, LONDON, E.C.\n\nOBJECTS.--The bringing together of employers and workers for their\nmutual advantage.  Making known the wants of each to each by providing a\nready method of communication.\n\nPLAN OF OPERATION.--The Opening of a Central Registry Office,\nwhich for the present will be located at the above address,\nand where registers will be kept free of charge wherein the wants of\nboth employers and workers will be recorded, the registers being open\nfor consultation by all interested.\n\nPublic Waiting Rooms (for male and female), to which the unemployed may\ncome for the purpose of scanning the newspapers, the insertion of\nadvertisements for employment in all newspapers at lowest rates.\nWriting tables, &c., provided for their use to enable them to write\napplications for situations on work.  The receiving of letters\n(replies to applications for employment) for unemployed workers.\n\nThe Waiting Rooms will also act as Houses-of-Call, where employers\ncan meet and enter into engagements with Workers of all kinds,\nby appointment or otherwise, thus doing away with the snare\nthat awaits many of the unemployed, who have no place to wait other\nthan the Public House, which at present is almost the only\n\"house-of-call\" for Out-of-Work men.\n\nBy making known to the public generally the wants of the unemployed\nby means of advertisements, by circulars, and direct application to\nemployers, the issue of labour statistics with information as to the\nnumber of unemployed who are anxious for work, the various trades and\noccupations they represent, &c., &c.\n\nThe opening of branches of the Labour Bureau as fast as funds and\nopportunities permit, in all the large towns and centres of industry\nthroughout Great Britain.\n\nIn connection with the Labour Bureau, we propose to deal with both\nskilled and unskilled workers, amongst the latter forming such agencies\nas \"Sandwich\" Board Men's Society, Shoe Black, Carpet Beating,\nWhite-washing, Window Cleaning, Wood Chopping, and other Brigades,\nall of which will, with many others, be put into operation as far as\nthe assistance of the public (in the shape of applying for workers of\nall kinds) will afford us the opportunity.\n\nA Domestic Servants' Agency will also be a branch of the Bureau,\nand a Home For Domestic Servants out of situation is also in\ncontemplation.  In this and other matters funds alone are required to\ncommence operations.  All communications, donations, etc., should be\naddressed as above, marked \"Labour Bureau,\" etc.\n\n\nCENTRAL LABOUR BUREAU.  LOCAL AGENTS AND CORRESPONDENTS' DEPARTMENT.\n\nDear Comrade,--The enclosed letter, which has been sent to our\nOfficers throughout the Field, will explain the object we have in view.\nYour name has been suggested to us as one whose heart is thoroughly in\nsympathy with any effort on behalf of poor suffering humanity.\nWe are anxious to have in connection with each of our Corps,\nand in every locality throughout the Kingdom, some sympathetic,\nlevel-headed comrade, acting as our Agent or local Correspondent,\nto whom we could refer at all times for reliable information,\nand who would take it as work of love to regularly communicate useful\ninformation respecting the social condition of things generally in\ntheir neighbourhood.\n\nKindly reply, giving us your views and feelings on the subject as soon\nas possible, as we are anxious to organise at once.  The first business\non hand is for us to get information of those out of work and employers\nrequiring workers, so that we can place them upon our registers,\nand make known the wants both of employers and employes.\n\nWe shall be glad of a communication from you, giving us some facts as\nto the condition of things in your locality, or any ideas or\nsuggestions you would like to give, calculated to help us in connection\nwith this good work.\n\nI may say that the Social Wing not only comprehends the labour\nquestion, but also prison rescue and other branches of Salvation work,\ndealing with broken-down humanity generally, so that you can see what a\ngreat blessing you may be to the work of God by co-operating with us.\n\nBelieve me to be, Yours affectionately for the Suffering and Lost, etc.\n\n\n\nLOCAL AGENTS AND CORRESPONDENTS DEPARTMENT.\n\nProposition for local agent, correspondent, etc.\n\n\nName...................................................................\n\nAddress................................................................\n\nOccupation.............................................................\n\nIf a Soldier, what Corps?..............................................\n\nIf not a Soldier, what Denomination?...................................\n\nIf spoken to on the subject, what reply they have made?................\n\n.......................................................................\n\n.......................................................................\n\n.......................................................................\n\n.......................................................................\n\n.......................................................................\n\n            Signed.....................................................\n\n            Corps......................................................\n\n                        Date............................ 189  .\n\nKindly return this as soon as possible, and we will then place\nourselves in communication with the Comrade you propose for this\nposition.\n\n\n\nTO EMPLOYERS OF LABOUR.\n\nWe beg to bring to your notice the fact that the Salvation Army has\nopened at the above address (in connection with the Social Reform Wing),\na Labour Bureau for the Registration of the wants of all classes\nof Labour, for both employer and employe in London and throughout the\nKingdom, our object being to place in communication with each other,\nfor mutual advantage, those who want workers and those who want work.\n\nArrangements have been made at the above address for waiting rooms,\nwhere employers can see unemployed men and women, and where the latter\nmay have accommodation to write letters, see the advertisements in the\npapers, &c., &c.\n\nIf you are in want of workers of any kind, will you kindly fill up the\nenclosed form and return it to us?  We will then have the particulars\nentered up, and endeavour to have your wants supplied.\nAll applications, I need hardly assure you, will have our best attention,\nwhether they refer to work of a permanent or temporary character.\n\nWe shall also be glad, through the information office of Labour\nDepartment, to give you any further information as to our plans, &c.,\nor an Officer will wait upon you to receive instructions for the supply\nof workers, if requested.\n\nAs no charge will be made for registration of either the wants of\nemployers or the wants of the unemployed, it will be obvious that a\nconsiderable outlay will be necessary to sustain these operations in\nactive usefulness, and that therefore financial help will be greatly\nneeded.\n\nWe shall gratefully receive donations, from the smallest coin up,\nto help to cover the cost of working this department.  We think it right\nto say that only in special cases shall we feel at liberty to give\npersonal recommendations.  This however, will no doubt be understood,\nseeing that we shall have to deal with very large numbers who are\ntotal strangers to us.  Please address all communications or donations\nas above, marked \"Central Labour Bureau,\" etc.\n\n\nWE PROPOSE TO ENTER UPON A CRUSADE AGAINST \"SWEATING.\" WILL YOU HELP US?\n\nDear Sir,--in connection with the Social Reform Wing a Central Labour\nBureau has been opened, one department of which will deal especially\nwith that class of labour termed \"unskilled,\" from amongst whom are\ndrawn BOARDMEN, MESSENGERS, BILL DISTRIBUTORS, CIRCULAR ADDRESSERS,\nWINDOW CLEANERS, WHITE-WASHERS, CARPET BEATERS, &C., &C.\n\nIt is very important that work given to these workers and others not\nenumerated, should be taxed as little as possible by the Contractor,\nor those who act between the employer and the worker.\n\nIn all our operations in this capacity we do not propose to make profit\nout of those we benefit; paying over the whole amount received, less\nsay one halfpenny in the shilling, or some such small sum which will go\ntowards the expense of providing boards for \"sandwich\" boardmen, the\nhire of barrows, purchase of necessary tools, &c., &c.\n\nWe are very anxious to help that most needy class, the \"boardmen,\" many\nof whom are \"sweated\" out of their miserable earnings; receiving often\nas low as one shilling for a day's toil.\n\nWE APPEAL TO ALL WHO SYMPATHISE WITH SUFFERING HUMANITY, especially\nReligious and Philanthropic individuals and Societies, to assist us in\nour efforts, by placing orders for the supply of Boardmen, Messengers,\nBill-distributors, Window-cleaners and other kinds of labour in our\nhands.  Our charge for \"boardmen\" will be 2s. 2d., including boards, the\nplacing and proper supervision of the men, &c.  Two shillings, at least,\nwill go direct to the men; most of the hirers of boardmen pay this, and\nsome even more, but often not more than one-half reaches the men.\nWe shall be glad to forward you further information of our plans,\nor will send a representative to further explain, or to take orders,\non receiving notice from you to that effect.\n\n                                Believe me to be,\n                                              Yours faithfully, etc.\n\n\n                    CENTRAL LABOUR BUREAU.\n\n            TO THE UNEMPLOYED.--MALE AND FEMALE.\n\n                            NOTICE.\n\nA Free Registry, for all kinds of unemployed labour, has been opened at\nthe above address.  If you want work, call and make yourself and your\nwants known.  Enter your name and address and wants on the Registers, or\nfill up form below, and hand it in at above address.  Look over the\nadvertising pages of the papers provided.  Tables with pens and ink are\nprovided for you to write for situations.  If you live at a distance,\nfill up this form giving all particulars, or references, and forward to\nCommissioner Smith, care of the Labour Bureau.\n\nName.......................................................\n\nAddress....................................................\n\n...........................................................\n\nKind of work wanted........................................\n\nWages you ask..............................................\n\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------\n                                  I\n               Name               I\n                                  I\n---------------------------------------------------------------------\n                                  I\n               Age                I\n                                  I\n---------------------------------------------------------------------\n                                  I\n  During past 10 years have       I\n  you had regular employment?     I\n                                  I\n---------------------------------------------------------------------\n                                  I\n         How long for?            I\n                                  I\n---------------------------------------------------------------------\n                                  I\n       What kind of work?         I\n                                  I\n---------------------------------------------------------------------\n                                  I\n      What work can you do?       I\n                                  I\n---------------------------------------------------------------------\n                                  I\n    What have you worked at       I\n    at odd times?                 I\n                                  I\n---------------------------------------------------------------------\n                                  I\n   How much did you earn when     I\n   regularly employed?            I\n                                  I\n---------------------------------------------------------------------\n                                  I\n   How much did you earn when     I\n   irregularly employed?          I\n                                  I\n---------------------------------------------------------------------\n                                  I\n        Are you married?          I\n                                  I\n---------------------------------------------------------------------\n                                  I\n         Is wife living?          I\n                                  I\n---------------------------------------------------------------------\n                                  I\n  How many children and ages?     I\n                                  I\n---------------------------------------------------------------------\nIf you were put on a farm to      I\nwork at anything you could do,    I\nand were supplied with food,      I\nlodging, and clothes, with a      I\nview to getting you on your feet, I\nwould you do all you could?       I\n---------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\nHOW BEGGARY WAS ABOLISHED IN BAVARIA BY COUNT RUMFORD.\n\nCount Rumford was an American officer who served with considerable\ndistinction in the Revolutionary War in that country, and afterwards\nsettled in England.  From thence he went to Bavaria, where he was\npromoted to the chief command of its army, and also was energetically\nemployed in the Civil Government.  Bavaria at this time literally\nswarmed with beggars, who were not only an eyesore and discredit to the\nnation, but a positive injury to the State.  The Count resolved upon the\nextinction of this miserable profession, and the following extracts\nfrom his writings describe the method by which he accomplished it: --\n\n\"Bavaria, by the neglect of the Government, and the abuse of the\nkindness and charity of its amiable people, had become infested with\nbeggars, with whom mingled vagabonds and thieves.  They were to the body\npolitic what parasites and vermin are to people and dwellings--\nbreeding by the same lazy neglect.\"--(Page 14.)\n\n\"In Bavaria there were laws which made provision for the poor, but they\nsuffered them to fall into neglect.  Beggary had become general.\"--\n(Page 15.)\n\n\"In short,\" says Count Rumford, \"these detestable vermin swarmed\neverywhere; and not only their impudence and clamorous importunity were\nboundless, but they had recourse to the most diabolical arts and the\nmost horrid crimes in the prosecution of their infamous trade.\nThey exposed and tortured their own children, and those they stole for\nthe purpose, to extort contributions from the charitable.\"--(Page 15.)\n\n\"In the large towns beggary was an organised imposture, with a sort of\ngovernment and police of its own.  Each beggar had his beat, with\norderly successions and promotions, as with other governments.\nThere were battles to decide conflicting claims, and a good beat was\nnot unfreguently a marriage portion or a thumping legacy.\"--(Page 16.)\n\n\"He saw that it was not enough to forbid beggary by law or to punish it\nby imprisonment.  The beggars cared for neither.  The energetic Yankee\nStatesman attacked the question as he did problems in physical science.\nHe studied beggary and beggars.  How would he deal with one individual\nbeggar?  Send him for a month to prison to beg again as soon as he came\nout?  That is no remedy.  The evident course was to forbid him to beg,\nbut at the same time to give him the opportunity to labor; to teach him\nto work, to encourage him to honest industry.  And the wise ruler sets\nhimself to provide food, comfort, and work for every beggar and\nvagabond in Bavaria, and did it.\"--(Page 17.)\n\n\"Count Rumford, wise and just, sets himself to reform the whole class\nof beggars and vagabonds, and convert them into useful citizens, even\nthose who had sunk into vice and crime.\n\n\"'What,' he asked himself, 'is, after the necessaries of life, the\nfirst condition of comfort?'  Cleanliness, which animals and insects\nprize, which in man affects his moral character, and which is akin to\ngodliness.  The idea that the soul is defiled and depraved by what is\nunclean has long prevailed in all ages.  Virtue never dwelt long with\nfilth.  Our bodies are at war with everything that defiles them.\n\n\"His first step, after a thorough study and consideration of the\nsubject, was to provide in Munich, and at all necessary points, large,\nairy, and even elegant Houses of Industry, and store them with the\ntools and materials of such manufactures as were most needed, and would\nbe most useful.  Each house was provided with a large dining-room and a\ncooking apparatus sufficient to furnish an economical dinner to every\nworker.  Teachers were engaged for each kind of labour.  Warmth, light,\ncomfort, neatness, and order, in and around these houses, made them\nattractive.  The dinner every day was gratis, provided at first by the\nGovernment, later by the contributions of the citizens.  Bakers brought\nstale bread; butchers, refuse meat; citizens, their broken victuals--\nall rejoicing in being freed from the nuisance of beggary.  The teachers\nof handicrafts were provided by the Government.  And while all this was\nfree, everyone was paid the full value for his labour.  You shall not\nbeg; but here is comfort, food, work, pay.  There was no ill-usage, no\nharsh language; in five years not a blow was given even to a child by\nhis instructor.\n\n\"When the preparations for this great experiment had been silently\ncompleted, the army--the right arm of the governing power, which had\nbeen prepared tor the work by its own thorough reformation--was\ncalled into action in aid of the police and the civil magistrates.\nRegiments of cavalry were so disposed as to furnish every town with a\ndetachment, with patrols on every highway, and squads in the villages,\nkeeping the strictest order and discipline, paying the utmost deference\nto the civil authorities, and avoiding all offence to the people;\ninstructed when the order was given to arrest every beggar, vagrant,\nand deserter and bring them before the magistrates.  This military\npolice cost nothing extra to the country beyond a few cantonments,\nand this expense to the whole country was less than #3,000 a-year.\n\n\"The 1st of January, 1790--New Year's Day, from time immemorial\nthe beggars' holiday, when they swarmed in the streets, expecting\neveryone to give--the commissioned and non-commissioned officers of\nthree regiments of infantry were distributed early in the morning at\ndifferent points of Munich to wait for orders.  Lieutenant-General Count\nRumford assembled at his residence the chief officers of the army and\nprincipal magistrates of the city, and communicated to them his plans\nfor the campaign.  Then, dressed in the uniform of his rank, with his\norders and decorations glittering on his breast, setting an example to\nthe humblest soldier, he led them into the street, and had scarcely\nreached it before a beggar approached wished him a 'Happy New Year,'\nand waited for the expected aims.  'I went up to him, says Count Rumford,\n'and laying my hand gently on his shoulder, told him that henceforth\nbegging would not be permitted in Munich; that if he was in need,\nassistance would be given him; and if detected begging again, he would\nbe severely punished.' He was then sent to the Town Hall, his name and\nresidence inscribed upon the register, and he was directed to repair to\nthe Military House of Industry next morning, where he would find\ndinner, work, and wages.  Every officer, every magistrate, every\nsoldier, followed the example set them; every beggar was arrested,\nand in one day a stop was put to beggary in Bavaria.  It was banished\nout of the kingdom.\n\n\"And now let us see what was the progress and success of this\nexperiment.  It seemed a risk to trust the raw materials of industry--\nwool, flax, hemp, etc.--to the hands of common beggars; to render\ndebauched and depraved class orderly and useful, was an arduous\nenterprise.  Of course the greater number made bad work at the\nbeginning.  For months they cost more than they came to.  They spoiled\nmore horns than they made spoons.  Employed first in the coarser and\nruder manufactures, they were advanced as they improved, and were for\nsome time paid more than they earned--paid to encourage good will,\neffort, and perseverance.  These were worth any sum.  The poor people saw\nthat they were treated with more than justice--with kindness.  It was\nvery evident that it was all for their good.  At first there was\nconfusion, but no insubordination.  They were awkward, but not\ninsensible to kindness.  The aged, the weak, and the children were put\nto the easiest tasks.  The younger children were paid simply to look on\nuntil they begged to join in the work, which seemed to them like play.\nEverything around them was made clean, quiet, orderly, and pleasant.\nLiving at their own homes, they came at a fixed hour in the morning.\nThey had at noon a hot, nourishing dinner of soup and bread.  Provisions\nwere either contributed or bought wholesale, and the economies of\ncookery were carried to the last point of perfection.  Count Rumford had\nso planned the cooking apparatus that three women cooked a dinner for\none thousand persons at a cost though wood was used, of 4 1/2d. for\nfuel; and the entire cost of the dinner for 1,200 was only #1 7s 6 1/2d.,\nor about one-third of a penny for each person!  Perfect order was kept\n--at work, at meals, and everywhere.  As soon as a company took its\nplace at table, the food having been previously served, all repeated a\nshort prayer.  'Perhaps,' says Count Rumford, 'I ought to ask pardon for\nmentioning so old-fashioned a custom, but I own I am old-fashioned\nenough myself to like such things.'\n\n\"These poor people were generously paid for their labour, but something\nmore than cash payment was necessary.  There was needed the feeling of\nemulation, the desire to excel, the sense of honour, the love of glory.\nNot only pay, but rewards, prizes, distinctions, were given to the more\ndeserving.  Peculiar care was taken with the children.  They were first\npaid simply for being present, idle lookers-on, until they begged with\ntears to be allowed to work.  'How sweet those tears were to me,' says\nCount Rumford, 'can easily be imagined.' Certain hours were spent by\nthem in a school, for which teachers were provided.\n\n\"The effect of these measures was very remarkable.  Awkward as the\npeople were, they were not stupid, and learned to work with unexpected\nrapidity.  More wonderful was the change in their manners, appearances\nand the very expression of their countenances.  Cheerfulness and\ngratitude replaced the gloom of misery and the sullenness of despair.\nTheir hearts were softened; they were most grateful to their benefactor\nfor themselves, still more for their children.  These worked with their\nparents, forming little industrial groups, whose affection excited the\ninterest of every visitor.  Parents were happy in the industry and\ngrowing intelligence of their children, and the children were proud of\ntheir own achievements.\n\n\"The great experiment was a complete and triumphant success.  When Count\nRumford wrote his account of it, it had been five years in operation;\nit was, financially, a paying speculation, and had not only banished\nbeggary, but had wrought an entire change in the manners, habits, and\nvery appearance of the most abandoned and degraded people in the\nkingdom.\"--(\"Count Rumford,\" pages 18-24.)\n\n\"Are the poor ungrateful?  Count Rumford did not find them so.  When,\nfrom the exhaustion of his great labours, he fell dangerously ill,\nthese poor people whom he had rescued from lives of shame and misery,\nspontaneously assembled, formed a procession, and went in a body to the\nCathedral to offer their united prayers for his recovery.  When he was\nabsent in Italy, and supposed to be dangerously ill in Naples, they set\napart a certain time every day, after work hours, to pray for their\nbenefactor.  After an absence of fifteen months, Count Rumford returned\nwith renewed health to Munich--a city where there was work for everyone,\nand not one person whose wants were not provided for.  When he visited\nthe military workhouse, the reception given him by these poor people\ndrew tears from the eyes of all present.  A few days after he\nentertained eighteen hundred of them in the English garden--a festival\nat which 30,000 of the citizens of Munich assisted.\"\n(\"Count Rumford,\" pages 24-25.)\n\n\n\nTHE CO-OPERATIVE EXPERIMENT AT RALAHINE,\n\n\"The outrages of the 'Whitefeet,' 'Lady Clare Boys,' and 'Terry Alts'\n(labourers) far exceeded those of recent occurrence; yet no remedy but\nforce was attempted, except by one Irish landlord, Mr. John Scott\nVandeleur, of Ralahine, county Clare, late high sheriff of his county.\nEarly in 1831 his family had been obliged to take flight, in charge of\nan armed police force, and his steward had been murdered by one of the\nlabourers, having been chosen by lot at a meeting held to decide who\nshould perpetrate the deed.  Mr. Vandeleur came to England to seek\nsomeone who would aid him in organising the labourers into an\nagricultural and manufacturing association, to be conducted on\nco-operative principles, and he was recommended to Mr. Craig, who, at\ngreat sacrifice of his position and prospects, consented to give his\nservices.\n\n\"No one but a man of rare zeal and courage would have attempted so\napparently hopeless a task as that which Mr. Craig undertook.  Both the\nmen whom he had to manage--the Terry Alts who had murdered their\nmaster's steward--and their surroundings were as little calculated to\ngive confidence in the success of the scheme as they well could be.\nThe men spoke generally the Irish language, which Mr. Craig did not\nunderstand, and they looked upon him with suspicion as one sent to worm\nout of them the secret of the murder recently committed.  He was\nconsequently treated with coldness, and worse than that.  On one\noccasion the outline of his grave was cut out of the pasture near his\ndwelling, and he carried his life in his hand.  After a time, however,\nhe won the confidence of these men, rendered savage as they had been by\nill-treatment.\n\n\"The farm was let by Mr. Vandeleur at a fixed rent, to be paid in fixed\nquantities of farm produce, which, at the prices ruling in 1830-31,\nwould bring in #900, which included interest on buildings, machinery,\nand live stock provided by Mr. Vandeleur.  The rent alone was #700.\nAs the farm consisted of 618 acres, only 268 of which were under\ntillage, this rent was a very high one--a fact which was acknowledged\nby the landlord.  All profits after payment of rent and interest\nbelonged to the members, divisible at the end of the year if desired.\nThey started a co-operative store to supply themselves with food and\nclothing, and the estate was managed by a committee of the members,\nwho paid every male and female member wages for their labour in labour\nnotes which were exchangeable at the store for goods or cash.\nIntoxicating drink or tobacco were prohibited.  The committee each day\nallotted each man his duties.  The members worked the land partly as\nkitchen garden and fruit orchards, and partly as dairy farm, stall\nfeeding being encouraged and root crops grown for the cattle.  Pigs,\npoultry, &c., were reared.  Wages at the time were only 8d per day for\nmen and 5d. for women, and the members were paid at these rates.\nYet, as they lived chiefly on potatoes and milk produced on the farm,\nwhich, as well as mutton and pork, were sold to them at extremely low\nprices, they saved money or rather notes.  Their health and appearance\nquickly improved, so much so that, with disease raging round them,\nthere was no case of death or serious illness among them while the\nexperiment lasted.  The single men lived together in a large building,\nand the families in cottages.  Assisted by Mrs. Craig, the secretary\ncarried out the most enlightened system of education for the young,\nthose old enough being alternately employed on the farm and in the\nschool.  Sanitary arrangements were in a high state of perfection, and\nphysical and moral training were most carefully attended to.  In respect\nof these and other social arrangements, Mr. Craig was a man much before\nhis time, and he has since made himself a name in connection with their\napplication in various parts of the country.\n\n\"The 'New System,' as the Ralahine experiment was called, though at\nfirst regarded with suspicion and derision, quickly gained favour in\nthe district, so that before long outsiders were extremely anxious to\nbecome members of the association.  In January, 1832, the community\nconsisted of fifty adults and seventeen children.  The total number\nafterwards increased to eighty-one.  Everything was prosperous, and the\nmembers of the association were not only benefitted themselves, but\ntheir improvement exercised a beneficent influence upon the people in\ntheir neighbourhood.  It was hoped that other landlords would imitate\nthe excellent example of Mr. Vandeleur, especially as his experiment\nwas one profitable to himself, as well as calculated to produce peace\nand contentment in disturbed Ireland.  Just when these hopes were raised\nto their highest degree of expectancy, the happy community at Ralahine\nwas broken up through the ruin and flight of Mr. Vandeleur, who had\nlost his property by gambling.  Everything was sold off, and the labour\nnotes saved by the members would have been worthless had not Mr. Craig,\nwith noble self-sacrifice, redeemed them out of his own pocket.\n\n\"We have given but a very scanty description of the system pursued at\nRalahine.  The arrangements were in most respects admirable,\nand reflected the greatest credit upon Mr. Craig as an organiser and\nadministrator.  To his wisdom, energy, tact, and forbearance the success\nof his experiment was in great measure due, and it is greatly to be\nregretted that he was not in a position to repeat the attempt under\nmore favourable circumstances.\"  (\"History of a Co-operative Farm.\")\n\n\n\nCARLYLE ON THE SOCIAL OBLIGATIONS OF THE NATION\n\nFORTY-FIVE YEARS AGO.  Inserted at the earnest request of a friend, who\nwas struck by the coincidence of some ideas, similar to those of this\nvolume, set forth so long ago, but as yet remaining unrealised, and\nwhich I had never read.\n\nEXTRACTS FROM \"PAST AND PRESENT.\"\n\n\"A Prime Minister, even here in England, who shall dare believe the\nheavenly omens, and address himself like a man and hero to the great\ndumb-struggling heart of England, and speak out for it, and act out for\nit, the God's-justice it is writhing to get uttered and perishing for\nwant of--yes, he too will see awaken round him, in passionate,\nburning, all-defiant loyalty, the heart of England, and such a\n'support' as no Division-List or Parliamentary Majority was ever yet\nknown to yield a man!  Here as there, now as then, he who can and dare\ntrust the heavenly Immensities, all earthly Localities are subject to\nhim.  We will pray for such a man and First-Lord;--yes, and far\nbetter, we will strive and incessantly make ready, each of us, to be\nworthy to serve and second such a First-Lord!  We shall then be as good\nas sure of his arriving; sure of many things, let him arrive or not.\n\n\"Who can despair of Governments that passes a Soldier's Guard-house, or\nmeets a red-coated man on the streets?  That a body of men could be got\ntogether to kill other men when you bade them:  this, a priori, does it\nnot seem one of the impossiblest things?  Yet look, behold it:  in the\nstolidest of Do-nothing Governments, that impossibility is a thing\ndone.\"--(Carlyle, \"Past and Present,\" page 223.)\n\n\"Strange, interesting, and yet most mournful to reflect on.  Was this,\nthen, of all the things mankind had some talent for, the one thing\nimportant to learn well, and bring to perfection; this of successfully\nkilling one another?  Truly, you have learned it well, and carried the\nbusiness to a high perfection.  It is incalculable what, by arranging,\ncommanding, and regimenting you can make of men.  These thousand\nstraight-standing, firm-set individuals, who shoulder arms, who march,\nwheel, advance, retreat; and are, for your behoof a magazine charged\nwith fiery death, in the most perfect condition of potential activity.\nFew months ago, till the persuasive sergeant came, what were they?\nMultiform ragged losels, runaway apprentices, starved weavers thievish\nvalets; an entirely broken population, fast tending towards the\ntreadmill.  But the persuasive sergeant came, by tap of drum enlisted,\nor formed lists of them, took heartily to drilling them; and he and you\nhave made them this!  Most potent effectual for all work whatsoever,\nis wise planning, firm, combining, and commanding among men.  Let no man\ndespair of Governments who looks on these two sentries at the Horse\nGuards and our United Service clubs.  I could conceive an Emigration\nService, a Teaching Service, considerable varieties of United and\nSeparate Services, of the due thousands strong, all effective as this\nFighting Service is; all doing their work like it--which work, much\nmore than fighting, is henceforth the necessity of these new ages we\nare got into!  Much lies among us, convulsively, nigh desperately,\nstruggling to be born.\"--(\"Past and Present,\" page 224.)\n\n\"It was well, all this, we know; and yet it was not well.\nForty soldiers, I am told, will disperse the largest Spitalfields mob;\nforty to ten thousand, that is the proportion between drilled and\nundrilled.  Much there is which cannot yet be organised in this world,\nbut somewhat also which can--somewhat also which must.  When one\nthinks, for example, what books are become and becoming for us, what\noperative Lancashires are become; what a Fourth Estate and innumerable\nvirtualities not yet got to be actualities are become and becoming,\none sees organisms enough in the dim huge future, and 'United Services'\nquite other than the redcoat one; and much, even in these years,\nstruggling to be born!\"--(\"Past and Present,\" page 226.)\n\n\"An effective 'Teaching Service,' I do consider that there must be;\nsome education secretary, captain-general of teachers, who will\nactually contrive to get us taught.  Then again, why should there not be\nan 'Emigration Service,' and secretary with adjuncts, with funds,\nforces, idle navy ships, and ever-increasing apparatus, in fine an\neffective system of emigration, so that at length before our twenty\nyears of respite ended, every honest willing workman who found England\ntoo strait, and the 'organisation of labour' not yet sufficiently\nadvanced, might find likewise a bridge built to carry him into new\nwestern lands, there to 'organise' with more elbow room some labour for\nhimself?  There to be a real blessing, raising new corn for us,\npurchasing new webs and hatchets from us; leaving us at least in peace;\ninstead of staying here to be a physical-force Chartist, unblessed and\nno blessing! Is it not scandalous to consider that a Prime Minister\ncould raise within the year, as I have seen it done, a hundred and\ntwenty millions sterling to shoot the French; and we are stopped short\nfor want of the hundredth part of that to keep the English living?\nThe bodies of the English living, and the souls of the English living,\nthese two 'Services,' an Education Service and an Emigration Service,\nthese with others, will have actually to be organised.\n\n\"A free bridge for emigrants!  Why, we should then be on a par with\nAmerica itself, the most favoured of all lands that have no government;\nand we should have, besides, so many traditions and mementos of\npriceless things which America has cast away.  We could proceed\ndeliberately to organise labour not doomed to perish unless we effected\nit within year and day every willing worker that proved superfluous,\nfinding a bridge ready for him.  This verily will have to be done;\nthe time is big with this.  Our little Isle is grown too narrow for us;\nbut the world is wide enough yet for another six thousand years.\nEngland's sure markets will be among new colonies of Englishmen in all\nquarters of the Globe.  All men trade with all men when mutually\nconvenient, and are even bound to do it by the Maker of Men.\nOur friends of China, who guiltily refused to trade in these\ncircumstances--had we not to argue with them, in cannon-shot at last,\nand convince them that they ought to trade?  'Hostile tariffs' will\narise to shut us out, and then, again, will fall, to let us in;\nbut the sons of England--speakers of the English language, were it\nnothing more--will in all times have the ineradicable predisposition to\ntrade with England.  Mycale was the Pan-Ionian--rendezvous of all the\ntribes of Ion--for old Greece; why should not London long continue the\nAll Saxon Home, rendezvous of all the 'Children of the Harz-Rock,'\narriving, in select samples, from the Antipodes and elsewhere by steam\nand otherwise, to the 'season' here?  What a future!  Wide as the world,\nif we have the heart and heroism for it, which, by Heaven's blessing,\nwe shall.\n\n \"Keep not standing fixed and rooted,\n Briskly venture, briskly roam;\n Head and hand, where'er thou foot it,\n And stout heart are still at home.\n In what land the sun does visit\n Brisk are we, what e'er betide;\n To give space for wandering is it\n That the world was made so wide.\n\n\"Fourteen hundred years ago it was a considerable 'Emigration Service,'\nnever doubt it, by much enlistment, discussion, and apparatus that we\nourselves arrived in this remarkable island, and got into our present\ndifficulties among others.\"--(\"Past and Present,\" pages 228-230)\n\n\"The main substance of this immense problem of organising labour, and\nfirst of all of managing the working classes, will, it is very clear,\nhave to be solved by those who stand practically in the middle of it,\nby those who themselves work and preside over work.  Of all that can be\nenacted by any Parliament in regard to it, the germs must already lie\npotentially extant in those two classes who are to obey such enactment.\nA human chaos in which there is no light, you vainly attempt to\nirradiate by light shed on it; order never can arise there.\"\n(\"Past and Present,\" pages 231-32.)\n\n\"Look around you.  Your world-hosts are all in mutiny, in confusion,\ndestitution; on the eve of fiery wreck and madness.  They will not march\nfarther for you, on the sixpence a day and supply-and-demand principle:\nthey will not; nor ought they; nor can they.  Ye shall reduce them to\norder; begin reducing them to order, to just subordination; noble\nloyalty in return for noble guidance.  Their souls are driven nigh mad;\nlet yours be sane and ever saner.  Not as a bewildered bewildering mob,\nbut as a firm regimented mass, with real captains over them, will these\nmen march any more.  All human interests, combined human endeavours,\nand social growth in this world have, at a certain stage of their\ndevelopment, required organising and work, the grandest of human\ninterests, does not require it.\n\n\"God knows the task will be hard, but no noble task was ever easy.\nThis task will wear away your lives and the lives of your sons and\ngrandsons; but for what purpose, if not for tasks like this, were lives\ngiven to men?  Ye shall cease to count your thousand-pound scalps;\nthe noble of you shall cease!  Nay, the very scalps, as I say,\nwill not long be left, if you count only these.  Ye shall cease wholly\nto be barbarous vulturous Chactaws, and become noble European\nnineteenth-century men.  Ye shall know that Mammon, in never such gigs\nand flunky 'respectabilities' in not the alone God; that of himself he\nis but a devil and even a brute-god.\n\n\"Difficult?  Yes, it will be difficult.  The short-fibre cotton; that,\ntoo, was difficult.  The waste-cotton shrub, long useless, disobedient\nas the thistle by the wayside; have ye not conquered it, made it into\nbeautiful bandana webs, white woven shirts for men, bright tinted air\ngarments wherein flit goddesses?  Ye have shivered mountains asunder,\nmade the hard iron pliant to you as soft putty; the forest-giants--\nmarsh-jotuns--bear sheaves of golden grain; AEgir--the Sea-Demon\nhimself stretches his back for a sleek highway to you, and on\nFirehorses and Windhorses ye career.  Ye are most strong.\nThor, red-bearded, with his blue sun-eyes, with his cheery heart and\nstrong thunder-hammer, he and you have prevailed.  Ye are most strong,\nye Sons of the icy North, of the far East, far marching from your rugged\nEastern Wildernesses, hitherward from the gray dawn of Time!\nYe are Sons of the Jotun-land; the land of Difficulties Conquered.\nDifficult?  You must try this thing.  Once try it with the understanding\nthat it will and shall have to be done.  Try it as ye try the paltrier\nthing, making of money!  I will bet on you once more, against all\nJotuns, Tailor-gods, Double-barrelled Law-wards, and Denizens of Chaos\nwhatsoever!\"--(\"Past and Present,\" pages 236-37.)\n\n\"A question arises here:  Whether, in some ulterior, perhaps not\nfar-distant stage of this 'Chivalry of Labour,' your Master-Worker may\nnot find it possible, and needful, to grant his Workers permanent\ninterest in his enterprise and theirs?  So that it become, in practical\nresult, what in essential fact and justice it ever is, a joint\nenterprise; all men, from the Chief Master down to the lowest Overseer\nand Operative, economically as well as loyally concerned for it?\nWhich question I do not answer.  The answer, near or else far,\nis perhaps, Yes; and yet one knows the difficulties.  Despotism is\nessential in most enterprises; I am told they do not tolerate 'freedom\nof debate' on board a seventy-four.  Republican senate and plebiscite\nwould not answer well in cotton mills.  And yet, observe there too,\nFreedom--not nomad's or ape's Freedom, but man's Freedom; this is\nindispensable.  We must have it, and will have it!  To reconcile\nDespotism with Freedom--well, is that such a mystery?  Do you not\nalready know the way?  It is to make your Despotism just.  Rigorous as\nDestiny, but just, too, as Destiny and its Laws.  The Laws of God;\nall men obey these, and have no 'Freedom' at all but in obeying them.\nThe way is already known, part of the way; and courage and some\nqualities are needed for walking on it.\"\n(\"Past and Present ,\" pages 241-42)\n\n\"Not a May-game is this man's life, but a battle and a march, a warfare\nwith principalities and powers.  No idle promenade through fragrant\norange-groves and green flowery spaces, waited on by the choral Muses\nand the rosy Hours:  it is a stern pilgrimage through burning sandy\nsolitudes, through regions of thick-ribbed ice.  He walks among men,\nloves men, with inexpressible soft pity, as they cannot love him,\nbut his soul dwells in solitude in the uttermost parts of creation.\nIn green oases by the palm-tree wells he rests a space, but anon he has\nto journey forward, escorted by the Terrors and the Splendours, the\nArchdemons and Archangels.  All Heaven, all Pandemonium are his escort.\nThe stars keen-glancing from the Immensities send tidings to him;\nthe graves, silent with their dead, from the Eternities.\nDeep calls for him unto Deep.\"--(\"Past and Present,\" page 249.)\n\n\n\nTHE CATHOLIC CHURCH AND THE SOCIAL QUESTION.\n\nThe Rev. Dr. Barry read a paper at the Catholic Conference on\nJune 30th, 1890, from which I take the following extracts as\nillustrative of the rising feeling of this subject in the Catholic\nChurch.  The Rev. Dr. Barry began by defining the proletariat as those\nwho have only one possession--their labour.  Those who have no land,\nand no stake in the land, no house, and no home except the few sticks\nof furniture they significantly call by the name, no right to employment,\nbut at the most a right to poor relief; and who, until the last 20 years,\nhad not even a right to be educated unless by the charity of their\n\"betters.\"  The class which, without figure of speech or flights of\nrhetoric, is homeless, landless, property less in our chief cities--\nthat I call the proletariat.  Of the proletariat he declared there were\nhundreds of thousands growing up outside the pale of all churches.\n\nHe continued:  For it is frightfully evident that Christianity has not\nkept pace with the population; that it has lagged terribly behind;\nthat, in plain words, we have in our midst a nation of heathens to whom\nthe ideals, the practices, and the commandments of religion are things\nunknown--as little realised in the miles on miles of tenement-houses,\nand the factories which have produced them, as though Christ had never\nlived or never died.  How could it be otherwise?  The great mass of men\nand women have never had time for religion.  You cannot expect them to\nwork double-tides.  With hard physical labour, from morning till night\nin the surroundings we know and see, how much mind and leisure is left\nfor higher things on six days of the week? ... We must look this matter\nin the face.  I do not pretend to establish the proportion between\ndifferent sections in which these things happen.  Still less am I\nwilling to lay the blame on those who are houseless, landless, and\nproperty less.  What I say is that if the Government of a country allows\nmillions of human beings to be thrown into such conditions of living\nand working as we have seen, these are the consequences that must be\nlooked for.  \"A child,\" said the Anglican Bishop South, \"has a right to\nbe born, and not to be damned into the world.\"  Here have been millions\nof children literally \"damned into the world,\" neither their heads nor\ntheir hands trained to anything useful, their miserable subsistence a\nthing to be fought and scrambled for, their homes reeking dens under\nthe law of lease-holding which has produced outcast London and horrible\nGlasgow, their right to a playground and amusement curtailed to the\nrunning gutter, and their great \"object-lesson\" in life the drunken\nparents who end so often in the prison, the hospital, and the\nworkhouse.  We need not be astonished if these not only are not\nChristians, but have never understood why they should be....\n\nThe social condition has created this domestic heathenism.\nThen the social condition must be changed.  We stand in need of a\npublic creed--of a social, and if you will understand the word, of a\nlay Christianity.  This work cannot be done by the clergy, nor within\nthe four walls of a church.  The field of battle lies in the school,\nthe home, the street, the tavern, the market, and wherever men come\ntogether.  To make the people Christian they must be restored to their\nhomes, and their homes to them.","title":"In Darkest England, and the Way Out","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":125621}